Cliff Sivadge Memorabilia
Photographs with 1st platoon.
Cliff wrote the events of January 14, 1970 to contribute to Haynie's Memoir When I Turned Nineteen.
What happened January 14, 1970, as told by Cliff Sivadge
Alpha Company had a combat assault into the foothills, three klicks from Hill 4-11. Due to the rough terrain, the choppers couldn’t drop each platoon within the same logistical landing zone. As a result, the company separated as a unit. The area contained tall grass which we later used for cover but not protection.
After First Platoon had begun reconnaissance of the area, members of second squad observed two enemy soldiers in the distance, sitting and smoking on a large rock. The enemy soldiers were unaware or our presence. They relayed this information to our platoon leader who decided second squad needed to seek cover and, once in position, engage the enemy with small weapons. Our squad attempted to gain strategic positions and our M-60 machine gunner gave support for those carrying M-16s.
Within minutes, the platoon leader gave the order to engage the enemy with M-16s. Second squad soon discovered that our surprise attack had awakened a sleeping dog and within less than thirty minutes, what we hoped a short firefight became a full-blown battle. The NVA soldiers, we soon learned, had chi-com grenades and RPGs.
Our enemy, who we later learned were NVA forces, ordered snipers to circle around and flank second squad to the left and right of our positions. It was customary for the French who fought the Vietnamese for nine years before U.S. occupation, to build walls three to four feet high constructed of small circular stones. These stone walls provided excellent protection for the NVA snipers and they had second squad pinned down, our only escape route being back up the hill to our rear.
My position during this firefight was beside Lieutenant Litneger, our platoon leader. I recall hearing a loud explosion behind us and to our left. I crawled back up the hill to check out what had happened and discovered that Zink, a member of second squad, wounded by shrapnel from what I assumed was a chi-com grenade. Zink suffered injuries to his face, primarily to his eye, but Zink spoke and it appeared he suffered no other major wounds.
I low-crawled along the hill to join my platoon leader and I’m not sure how much time elapsed before we heard another explosion further out and to the right of our position.
A horrific scream from a squad member followed the explosion. The following day we learned what had transpired. The squad member’s name was Gary Morris. He had taken a direct hit from an RPG and killed instantly. Gary had advanced too near the enemy’s position, allowing them to fire the fatal shot from their vantage point. Unknown at the time the enemy killed Roger Kendall and wounded Bill Davenport during the same exchange.
During the firefight, the platoon leader radioed Hill 4-11 requesting whatever air support might be available. Our squad’s position was too close in proximity to the enemy to expect much, but we were in hopes we might get a Huey with two M-60 machine gunners to fire and allow our squad to retreat up the hill to a safer position. Unfortunately, the only chopper dispatched was a “Loach” which, although not equipped with M-60 machine gunners, proved to be helpful. I heard the chopper making its approach as it maneuvered to Lieutenant Litneger’s and my position. It’s difficult to convey the pride I felt for this heroic chopper pilot as he hovered over our enemy’s position, diverting their attention and gunfire away from our squad. The chopper pilot communicated he observed what he believed was at least twelve dead enemy soldiers. He was taking fire from the enemy and within a short time forced to return to Hill 4-11. We later learned that the Loach chopper received thirteen bullet hits.
Another platoon from Alpha Company arrived and provided added support, allowing second squad to withdraw back up the hill to safety. The firefight lasted long enough that darkness soon fell upon the company and as a result, trip flares couldn’t be set out. Guard duty that night was scary for everyone, knowing what had taken place that day. I remember a phrase an instructor taught me at the combat center of pulling nightly guard duty in the bush. The instructor said “When you’re alone at your guard position, staring into the blackness, wondering if you heard something or not, your asshole tightened up so you couldn’t pound a ten-penny nail in it with a fifteen pound sledge.” Much to the relief of everyone who pulled guard duty the night passed without incident.
On the morning of January 15, we revisited the site of the earlier day’s firefight to extract our casualties. As we approached, the position where second squad first engaged the enemy, we noticed that not one of the enemy soldiers’ bodies was visible. During the night, the NVA had removed their dead (as most combat veterans are aware, Vietnamese believe in reincarnation, but only if their bodies are recovered by their own people). We learned later that day how our enemy did this.
I had volunteered to help remove Gary Morris. As its common for the NVA to booby trap the bodies of their enemy with grenades, as a precaution, we tied claymore wire to Gary’s body to roll him over, but the claymore wire proved too weak. We gave up on avoiding any danger from booby traps and placed Gary in a body bag. With the help of several second squad members, we lifted Gary into the dust-off chopper that was hovering nearby. Later another platoon member told me they put Roger on the same dust-off.
We then began a recon of the entire battle field, focusing on the locations of our enemy from the earlier day’s firefight. Although our company had passed this location at least once during the earlier six months, we soon learned that our enemy had been surveying Hill 4-11 from this vantage point for a time. The enemy position had huge boulders that formed a natural labyrinth of cracks and crevices between the various rock formations. After further investigation of these large openings between the boulders, we discovered a natural pathway which led to an underground tunnel. This tunnel allowed our enemy to remove their casualties from the night before the firefight.
The squad leader asked for volunteers to enter and survey the discovered tunnel. While I do not recall the name of the soldier who agreed to this assignment, I applaud his bravery. The life expectancy of Tunnel Rats was, as most Viet Nam vets are aware, short. The NVA had evacuated the tunnel; but, the enemy abandoned the articles in their haste to leave. Items discovered in the tunnel included: bloodied rags (from wounds suffered by our enemy the previous day) and five-gallon sealed aluminum containers filled with fish heads soaking in oil. We discovered no weapons or ammunition in the tunnel. I wasn’t privileged to information of the disposition or destruction of the tunnel discovered on January 15, 1970 by Alpha Company. The commanding officers of Alpha Company coordinated efforts with military intelligence teams that led to the tunnel’s destruction.
What happened January 14, 1970, as told by Cliff Sivadge
Alpha Company had a combat assault into the foothills, three klicks from Hill 4-11. Due to the rough terrain, the choppers couldn’t drop each platoon within the same logistical landing zone. As a result, the company separated as a unit. The area contained tall grass which we later used for cover but not protection.
After First Platoon had begun reconnaissance of the area, members of second squad observed two enemy soldiers in the distance, sitting and smoking on a large rock. The enemy soldiers were unaware or our presence. They relayed this information to our platoon leader who decided second squad needed to seek cover and, once in position, engage the enemy with small weapons. Our squad attempted to gain strategic positions and our M-60 machine gunner gave support for those carrying M-16s.
Within minutes, the platoon leader gave the order to engage the enemy with M-16s. Second squad soon discovered that our surprise attack had awakened a sleeping dog and within less than thirty minutes, what we hoped a short firefight became a full-blown battle. The NVA soldiers, we soon learned, had chi-com grenades and RPGs.
Our enemy, who we later learned were NVA forces, ordered snipers to circle around and flank second squad to the left and right of our positions. It was customary for the French who fought the Vietnamese for nine years before U.S. occupation, to build walls three to four feet high constructed of small circular stones. These stone walls provided excellent protection for the NVA snipers and they had second squad pinned down, our only escape route being back up the hill to our rear.
My position during this firefight was beside Lieutenant Litneger, our platoon leader. I recall hearing a loud explosion behind us and to our left. I crawled back up the hill to check out what had happened and discovered that Zink, a member of second squad, wounded by shrapnel from what I assumed was a chi-com grenade. Zink suffered injuries to his face, primarily to his eye, but Zink spoke and it appeared he suffered no other major wounds.
I low-crawled along the hill to join my platoon leader and I’m not sure how much time elapsed before we heard another explosion further out and to the right of our position.
A horrific scream from a squad member followed the explosion. The following day we learned what had transpired. The squad member’s name was Gary Morris. He had taken a direct hit from an RPG and killed instantly. Gary had advanced too near the enemy’s position, allowing them to fire the fatal shot from their vantage point. Unknown at the time the enemy killed Roger Kendall and wounded Bill Davenport during the same exchange.
During the firefight, the platoon leader radioed Hill 4-11 requesting whatever air support might be available. Our squad’s position was too close in proximity to the enemy to expect much, but we were in hopes we might get a Huey with two M-60 machine gunners to fire and allow our squad to retreat up the hill to a safer position. Unfortunately, the only chopper dispatched was a “Loach” which, although not equipped with M-60 machine gunners, proved to be helpful. I heard the chopper making its approach as it maneuvered to Lieutenant Litneger’s and my position. It’s difficult to convey the pride I felt for this heroic chopper pilot as he hovered over our enemy’s position, diverting their attention and gunfire away from our squad. The chopper pilot communicated he observed what he believed was at least twelve dead enemy soldiers. He was taking fire from the enemy and within a short time forced to return to Hill 4-11. We later learned that the Loach chopper received thirteen bullet hits.
Another platoon from Alpha Company arrived and provided added support, allowing second squad to withdraw back up the hill to safety. The firefight lasted long enough that darkness soon fell upon the company and as a result, trip flares couldn’t be set out. Guard duty that night was scary for everyone, knowing what had taken place that day. I remember a phrase an instructor taught me at the combat center of pulling nightly guard duty in the bush. The instructor said “When you’re alone at your guard position, staring into the blackness, wondering if you heard something or not, your asshole tightened up so you couldn’t pound a ten-penny nail in it with a fifteen pound sledge.” Much to the relief of everyone who pulled guard duty the night passed without incident.
On the morning of January 15, we revisited the site of the earlier day’s firefight to extract our casualties. As we approached, the position where second squad first engaged the enemy, we noticed that not one of the enemy soldiers’ bodies was visible. During the night, the NVA had removed their dead (as most combat veterans are aware, Vietnamese believe in reincarnation, but only if their bodies are recovered by their own people). We learned later that day how our enemy did this.
I had volunteered to help remove Gary Morris. As its common for the NVA to booby trap the bodies of their enemy with grenades, as a precaution, we tied claymore wire to Gary’s body to roll him over, but the claymore wire proved too weak. We gave up on avoiding any danger from booby traps and placed Gary in a body bag. With the help of several second squad members, we lifted Gary into the dust-off chopper that was hovering nearby. Later another platoon member told me they put Roger on the same dust-off.
We then began a recon of the entire battle field, focusing on the locations of our enemy from the earlier day’s firefight. Although our company had passed this location at least once during the earlier six months, we soon learned that our enemy had been surveying Hill 4-11 from this vantage point for a time. The enemy position had huge boulders that formed a natural labyrinth of cracks and crevices between the various rock formations. After further investigation of these large openings between the boulders, we discovered a natural pathway which led to an underground tunnel. This tunnel allowed our enemy to remove their casualties from the night before the firefight.
The squad leader asked for volunteers to enter and survey the discovered tunnel. While I do not recall the name of the soldier who agreed to this assignment, I applaud his bravery. The life expectancy of Tunnel Rats was, as most Viet Nam vets are aware, short. The NVA had evacuated the tunnel; but, the enemy abandoned the articles in their haste to leave. Items discovered in the tunnel included: bloodied rags (from wounds suffered by our enemy the previous day) and five-gallon sealed aluminum containers filled with fish heads soaking in oil. We discovered no weapons or ammunition in the tunnel. I wasn’t privileged to information of the disposition or destruction of the tunnel discovered on January 15, 1970 by Alpha Company. The commanding officers of Alpha Company coordinated efforts with military intelligence teams that led to the tunnel’s destruction.