Blackhorse Riders: A Desperate Last Stand, an Extraordinary Rescue Mission, and the Vietnam Battle America Forgot

From Booklist The battle, which took place on March 26, 1970, didn’t even have an official name. An American infantry unit was pinned down and outnumbered by the North Vietnamese. The 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, also known as the Blackhorse Regiment, responded to the unit’s distress calls. Despite daunting odds and fierce opposition, the Blackhorse Regiment, led by Captain John Poindexter, carried out a rescue mission, after which Poindexter campaigned to have his men recognized for their accomplishment. The book is a detailed account of the rescue mission and a chronicle of Poindexter’s tireless efforts to provide some sort of recognition for his soldiers. There are a lot of “forgotten” battles in the long history of warfare, but this one’s neglect seems particularly egregious, given the heroism involved. Keith, a decorated aviator who fought in Vietnam, shows real compassion for the soldiers of Blackhorse Regiment, and his own anger and frustration at their subsequent lack of recognition bubble through from time to time. For followers of books about the Vietnam War, this is a definite must-read. --David Pitt "A fine, precisely detailed record of an obscure but nasty battle in Vietnam in which heroism was forgotten even more quickly than the war itself... Keith provides engrossing, almost minute-by-minute account..." --Kirkus Reviews "For followers of books about the Vietnam War, this is a definite must-read." -- David Pitt Booklist On-Line “A riveting account of one of the most extraordinary and courageous rescues in U.S. military history. Blackhorse Riders is written with enough detail to satisfy even the most particular of military historians, yet Keith’s compelling storytelling breathes life into the personalities involved, so that minute by minute, following both rescuers and rescued, you keep turning pages to find out who lives and who dies.” —Karl Marlantes, New York Times bestselling author of Matterhorn and What It Is Like to Go to War “One of the finest and best-told combat stories to come out of Vietnam. Blackhorse Riders is a portrait of men at war; reluctant soldiers in an unpopular conflict whose actions on a single day rose to the level of extraordinary heroism, courage, and sacrifice. For those of us who were there, this is the kind of book we would be proud to pass on to our children.” —Nelson DeMille “This gripping, vividly detailed narrative finally tells a story that was overlooked for far too long, a story of nail-biting action and Band of Brothers --like courage. Blackhorse Riders is a bold tale, well told, of heroism, rescue, and, finally, recognition.” —Bob Drury and Tom Clavin, New York Times bestselling authors of Halsey’s Typhoon and The Last Stand of Fox Company “This riveting true story of young American soldiers fighting in Vietnam paints a gut-wrenching picture of combat rarely described in print.” —John C. “Doc” Bahnsen, Brigadier General, U.S. Army (Ret.), former Squadron Commander of 1st Squadron, 11th Armored Cavalry, the “Blackhorse Regiment” This is a true story about ordinary soldiers doing extraordinary deeds--and then being "forgotten" for almost 40 years before their valor is finally recognized. For those of us who fought in Vietnam, the brave warriors of the Blackhorse Regiment chronicled in this book, epitomize the true spirit of the men aand women who served. Now, finally, we have a Vietnam story with a proud, proper and positive outcome. I am honored to know these men and doubly honored to have had the privilege to write about their exploits. PHILIP KEITH became a naval aviator after graduating from Harvard. During three tours in Vietnam he was awarded, among other decorations, the Presidential Unit Citation, the Air Medal for Gallantry, the Purple Heart, and the Navy Commendation Medal. Keith is also a columnist for the Southampton Press and a feature writer for magazines. He lives in Southampton, Long Island. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. 1 ALPHA TROOP: MEN OF IRON, STEEDS OF STEEL 1200, MARCH 26, 1970, ALPHA TROOP’S NDP, WAR ZONE C, REPUBLIC OF VIETNAM Somebody’s in serious trouble, Capt. John Poindexter told himself as he sat, sweltering, in the stifling heat. The long, tall Texan, twenty-five, was trying to steal a few minutes of downtime after a horrible night of pain, terror, and numbing death among the members of his cavalry troop.It was well over a hundred degrees, even under the cover of the canvas tent-top that extended from the rear of Poindexter’s M-577 (a specialized ACAV, or armored cavalry assault vehicle). Seconds before, the battalion radio inside the baking command vehicle behind him had crackled to life. Racer Two-Nine was calling Stone Mountain Two-Nine and insistently asking for help.Poindexter perked up and cocked an ear to listen. He knew Stone Mountain Two-Nine was his current boss, Lt. Col. Mike Conrad, battalion commander of the 2nd Battalion, 8th Cavalry. It took him a few more seconds to recall that Racer Two-Nine was that fellow Hobson, the commander of Charlie Company, also part of Conrad’s battalion. Poindexter had worked with Hobson’s company, but that was before Hobson had taken over a couple of weeks back. Poindexter’s men were soldiering with Alpha Company, a brother company to Charlie, currently under the command of Capt. Ray Armer. Armer was, in fact, sitting just a few feet away from Poindexter, suffering in the same heat and also intently interested in what the radio was pumping out.From the semigarbled back-and-forth it eventually became clear that Hobson was in a real shit sandwich (a very bad tactical situation). His company of infantry, about eighty men, had inadvertently walked into the middle of a large, concealed, heavily fortified North Vietnamese Army (NVA) supply base. Worse, the complex seemed to be populated by frontline regular soldiers, possibly as many as a battalion. If the NVA were even at moderate strength, Hobson was outnumbered at least seven or eight to one, maybe more. Even worse news: The NVA were entrenched in bunkers. This meant they were safely behind stout dirt-and-log barricades and Hobson and his men were out in the open, or at best ducking down behind much less substantial jungle foliage, fallen timbers, or whatever cover they could find. They had already taken boo-koo (bastardization of the French beaucoup, many) casualties and were getting dangerously low on ammunition.Poindexter got up wearily and stepped into the back of the M-577. He found a map of the local operations area. He didn’t know exactly where Hobson was, but by the sound of the gunfire that was growing in volume he guessed he and his men had to be somewhere off to the northwest about four klicks away (approximately two and a half miles). He tossed the chart down on the table and went back outside, sinking into his grime-and-grease-stained canvas chair once more.Four Cobra gunships and two U.S. Air Force F-4 Phantom jets streaked overhead, racing to where Poindexter figured Hobson was bogged down. Artillery rounds, from Fire Support Base Illingworth, a few klicks behind them, arced overhead, trying to reach out to the NVA and cover the stranded Americans. The distant crash and boom ratcheted up and up, the crescendo building, indicating an all-out firefight was under way.Ray Armer stared at Poindexter and quietly said, “Sounds like they need help.”Both officers knew that their small command of approximately two hundred soldiers, Sheridan tanks, and ACAVs were the only ground forces within miles that could come to Charlie Company’s aid. They were way out in the boonies, far in advance of the main force, but Charlie was out even farther, probably very close to the Cambodian border.Both men also knew that the jungle nearby was virtually impenetrable from the air. Unless Charlie had somehow located or manufactured an LZ (landing zone) before they were jumped (not very likely) it would be impossible to send in a rescue force by air or attempt any kind of vertical extraction. If Charlie Company couldn’t fight their way out, and the radio traffic clearly indicated they were surrounded, their only hope was a rescue column of some sort. The only conceivable “column” was hunkered down in the middle of a dry lake bed, licking its own wounds, and separated from Charlie by a couple of miles of dense, choking jungle.The choices were few and ugly: Do nothing until ordered, in which case the men of Charlie Company would continue to suffer and die without hope; or mount up and charge off into the jungle with every prospect of either getting ambushed along the way or being chopped up in the same meat grinder that was chewing through the ranks of Charlie.The sweat rolled off Poindexter’s brow, but it was no longer only because of the heat of the day.*xa0xa0xa0*xa0xa0xa0*The subsequent decisions made by John Poindexter and the resultant actions of the men of Team Alpha are the main focus of this book. Before we learn more about what happened to this redoubtable band, it is important to describe their organization, their capabilities, and how they came to be sitting in that dust-choked depression in the middle of War Zone C, deep in enemy territory. ALPHA TROOP , THE MECHANIZED COMPONENT The 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment (see appendix 2) traces its roots back to the 11th Cavalry, a much-decorated unit that began operations in 1901 at Fort Myer, Virginia. It was all about the horses at first, but the real provenance of the 11th begins after the flesh-and-blood mounts were traded in for steeds of steel. Reorganized first as a tank battalion at the beginning of World War II, and then converted into a true armored cavalry regiment, the 11th served steadfastly in France and Germany, including the D-day landings and the Battle of the Bulge. After the end of World War II, the 11th, like many similar units, was caught up in a rapid and extensive demobilization effort intended to take the army back to much smaller and more traditional peacetime levels. The 11th was ultimately deactivated completely on November 30, 1948.No one knew the Korean War was coming, of course, so when that conflict erupted in 1950, the army planners reversed course and reactivated the proud old unit, this time as the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, and stationed it at Camp Carson, Colorado. The regiment had to be rebuilt from scratch, except for its motto, which remained, “Allons” (“Let’s go,” in French) and its “Blackhorse” logo.Once the 11th was back on line, it was moved again, to Fort Knox, Kentucky, and the unit was given the task of training reservists. They relocated yet again in 1957 to Germany, where the men took up duties of guarding the German-Czechoslovakian border. The regiment’s overseas duties ended in 1964 and the entire command, now supporting an aviation company, was shipped back to Fort Meade, Maryland. The 11th would remain at Fort Meade until its deployment to Vietnam in September 1966.The 11th would stay in Vietnam almost six years. The last men out would not return until March of 1972. In that long stretch of time, the regiment would engage in many actions, such as the one that is the subject of this book; be led by nine different commanders, including Col. George Patton Jr., son of the legendary General Patton of World War II; and three of its members would receive the Medal of Honor.In March 1970, the 11th Armored had three squadrons with four troops in each. Troops are akin to company-sized units but slightly larger, about 160 men per troop. Alpha Troop, in 1st Squadron, was commanded by Capt. John Poindexter and had an official allowance of thirty-one “tracks”: nine M-551 Sheridan tanks, fifteen M-113 ACAVs, three mortar tracks (modified M-113s), and four armored command and admin vehicles.On March 26, Alpha Troop was short one M-113. ACAV A-13 had been disabled by a land mine a few days earlier. Their roster had “somewhere around” 110 or 115 men present for duty. Exact lists were hard to maintain. Squad and platoon leaders could generally keep a precise count or a mental list of all the men for whom they were responsible; then again, they might not all be present. A few were always on R&R (rest and relaxation); some were detailed to rear echelon duties helping the XO (executive officer—second in command) with supplies, rearmament, the squadron kitchen, and the like. There were always broken bones, wounds, and a myriad of illnesses to deal with, all of which constantly kept at least a few men in the hospital. COMPANY A , THE INFANTRY COMPONENT Soldiering along with Alpha Troop was Company A, 2nd Battalion, 8th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile). Company A numbered about a hundred men (keeping track here, too, was not an exact science for the same reasons stated above) and was a straight-leg, nonmechanized infantry company of regular grunts (what the men called themselves, a modern-day equivalent to “GI”).Together, the two units were designated Team Alpha. To grasp the tactical logic that had thrown these two normally incompatible units together, it is essential to further understand the military objectives for War Zone C. THE TACTICAL ENVIRONMENT War Zone C, in 1970, was an area of roughly 1,000 square kilometers, much of it thick jungle, containing the all-but-deserted town of Katum and the more active Tay Ninh City. In the rainy season (May to September), the area was a swamp. In the dry season (the balance of the year), it was often a choking, ovenlike dust bowl. The western boundary was the north-south Highway 15; the eastern boundary ran parallel to the north-south Highway 13 from Loc Ninh to Saigon; the southern boundary ran east-west from Highway 13 to Highway 15; the northern boundary was the Cambodian border itself. The entire zone was located northwest of Saigon, and the roug... Read more