Grant Coble
The life of an armored crewman was exciting and traumatic. Wet and cold during monsoons, hot, dirty, and sweaty during the dry season. The stories told by each person are as they remember the event. Some stories cover the same time period and cover an event from different advantage points. These men partied hard, lived hard, and in some cases died hard. These men were a collection from every walk of life; Career soldiers, enlisted, drafted. The 1/1 is the most highly decorated combat unit in the United States Army and with good reason. A group of men tossed together who became Brothers for life. They were “The Mean Green Fighting Machine.”
Grant Coble resides in Kalamazoo, Michigan with his wife Joann and cat Callie, and dog Babe. He has two sons, Justin and Adam. This is Grant’s first book, which is a compilation of historical facts and real life anecdotes from War Torn Vietnam- 1967-1972. Grant was in the United States Army from September, 1969-1970 and served with the Charlie Troop- 1st of the 1st Armored Cavalry. He became a tank commander in 1970. Grant enjoys fishing, writing, and “surviving” Michigan winters. (ice fishing!)
1970
1/1970, Grant Coble, The first week of January the word came down that the Army was taking away our M-48’s and M-60’s and giving us some new fangled tank called a Sheridan. Only a few guys had been trained on them or seen them. We didn’t like the idea for what we had heard wasn’t real assuring.
We went out to the field and I pulled my last mission on an ACAV. As I wasn’t real fond of them and when getting back in, 9 brand new Sheridans sat waiting for us, I was ready to try them out. We went through some basic training for one day and night. Shooting, driving, and maintenance. Not everyone liked the new tracks. I didn’t like the idea we had to guess the range to a target but the track system was very impressive. Al most impossible to throw a track. I saw it happen only once. And very little upkeep. The 152 MM cannon had a very nasty bite compared to the M-48’s and M-60’s, but not the range.
We were given an old fuel tanker to practice on. All 9 of us were lined up and ready. Once the order is given to fire, you count 1001,1002 an fire. This gives the loader time to be clear of the recoil. I did as trained. Well, not all did, as was evident. The sight through the sights were awesome! The trailer disappeared in a huge cloud of smoke and reappeared in flight, tumbling, twisting, and turning in mid-air. For us that didn’t fire, our turn came when the trailer hit the ground. Very little was left to recognize it as a trailer when the firing ceased.
During the practice, Danny Harger, who sported one very cool, well waxed, handle bar mustache, about 1.5 inches long, popped up out of the loaders hatch for some fresh air. There stood a Sergeant Major staring at him. The next words out of his mouth sent a chill down Danny’s back, “Cut it now!”
3/1970, We were working the Pineapple Forest country looking for any kind of trouble we could find. One village lay at the base of a very rocky ridge. A nice place to live back home. One woman was present with 4 children and a NVA pith helmet on the ground. Definitely a reason to suspect someone else was present, but where?
We took each kid behind a hooch and shot a 45 cal round into the ground trying to make the mother think we had executed her child. We didn’t. This was done 3 times with no results for she never talked. She screamed with horror and cried something terrible. I never, ever, involved myself with anything like that again. I felt terrible and very ashamed for what we put her through. War maybe for keeps, but this was too much. I can only hope, somehow, she forgave us for that day. If I could go back and find her, I would apologize for our action. I’ve lived with that guilt all my life.
We followed up with a ground search of the area which led us to climb to the ridge line. The face of the cliff was a perfect place for someone to hide. Between the giant boulders that made up the face were dark, forbidding spaces, men could easily hide. Not one of us dared enter any of these spaces; not because the enemy might be present, but snakes. The view from the top was great. One could see all over the place. I think when we realize just how far from the unit we had ventured, we lost some sense of security and quickly returned to our fellow comrades and our tracks. So much for the “tough” American Soldier.
I didn’t really know William Sharp but remember giving him the tablets. He seemed like a real nice guy who took his job very seriously.
We were out on a mission later that day, God knows where when Sharps APC was blown by a large command detonated mine. I believe he was driver for the motor track
I was on a track one or two tracks behind his. There was a large explosion with so much dust and smoke at first you could not see what happened. When the dust began to clear I could see the guys who were blown clear. There was one trooper who had a sever gash near his eye; otherwise everyone seemed to be very shaken but otherwise unhurt. I believe there may have been some ARVINS on the track also. Someone asked what happened to Sharp? Since he was the driver, he didn’t get thrown clear and was pinned underneath the over turned APC. He was medavaced immediately as I could tell he was seriously injured. After he was medavaced, “Daddy Rabbit” asked me how I thought he would make out? I told him I did not think he would make it. He was upset at me for saying it. However, a few hours latter it was confirmed he had indeed expired.
I believe a memorial service along with an Easter Mass was given some days latter out in the field. It was the first American casualty I had witnessed. It wasn’t to be my last unfortunately.
4/8/1970, William A Sharpe Jr, Tucson, AZ, Landmine, 12W/109
4/20/1970, Kenneth Allan Butler Jr, Kalamazoo, MI, Explosive Device, 11W/27
5/7/1970, Neal Lord, Whittier, CA, Landmine, 11W/126
Anthony John Newman, “Obsession,”
Midnight interlude with memories long past,
Turning and tossing, hoping it will soon pass.
Specters of comrades come to one’s mind,
Having once loaded a cellophane coffin,
Regurgitated impressions come all too often.
Sweating profusely this nightly regime,
Guilt rides on night wings, will I ever be clean?
Push away loved ones with distasteful ease,
Does anyone hear my voice, please help me, please.
5/20/1970, Grant Coble, We were informed we would see action during a track commander meeting one evening in a place called Hiep Duc. This was a hot zone and we were going there. Little did we know just how much action at the time. This was about the time of the invasion of Cambodia. A Troop was going with us and we were to meet up with a company from the 196th once we were there.
