Last-Minute Order Mystifies Young Airman
Roger Galvan was angry, to put it lightly. Not because he was drafted. Not because he was in Vietnam. And not because he was on duty at 2 a.m. Rather, he was riled because he was washing dishes.
Night after night for some four months, the 21-year-old “two-striper,” or airman second class, had been guarding Bunker O51 (pronounced oh-five-one) as part of the U.S. Air Force 377th Security Police Squadron stationed at Tan Son Nhut Air Base just outside of Saigon. Day had darkened to night, and once again Galvan was on a truck headed to the bunker…or so he thought. For no apparent rhyme or reason, the five soldiers usually assigned to night guard duty at Bunker O51 were issued alternate orders; Galvan got KP – kitchen patrol.
“What?” he responded. “I never do KP!”
The reply was straightforward: “Galvan. Get off that truck.”
It was an order, and a night, that Roger Galvan will never forget.
*****
In May 1966 civilian Roger Galvan was completing his final exams following his freshman year at Victoria College. Having received his draft notice, he finished the school year and then boarded a bus to San Antonio to join up with the U.S. Air Force. From there he reported to duty in Indiana, and then on to Vietnam for his yearlong tour.
A mere two weeks into his assignment Galvan was badly injured when, for an unknown reason, the truck transporting his unit ran violently off the road near Phu Cat, throwing Galvan into the air and leaving him with five broken vertebrae.
“We don’t know if it was a bomb, or if the truck hit something on the road,” said Galvan, who suffered the greatest injury of the group and was sent from Phu Cat to Qui Nhon some 20 miles away for recovery.
“They told me what road to take, and I took off walking at 5 a.m. all alone with my rifle,” he recollected. “I remember the pain, and I remember the smell – you’ve never smelled anything so bad in your life as when the farmers in Vietnam are preparing to harvest their rice.”
Some five miles into his journey, the driver of a two-and-a-half-ton Army truck offered Galvan a ride. However, the deep ruts in the road jolted the injured Galvan into further misery, and about six miles later he returned to the trail to walk the rest of the way.
When he arrived in Qui Nhon, Galvan was told to lie down on a plywood plank about three-quarters of an inch thick, where he remained for 10 days. Barely healed, he returned to Phu Cat for a couple of weeks before being ordered to Saigon, where he was eventually assigned guard duty at Bunker O51. Also referred to as Bunker 51 (minus the O), the structure was originally built by the French during their occupation of South Vietnam in the 1950s.
Years later the bunker still stood, now 75 meters from Gate 51 on the southwest corner of Tan Son Nhut Air Base. One of the busiest air bases in the world, Tan Son Nhut was home to thousands of American military personnel and served as the overall command headquarters for U.S. forces in South Vietnam.
Night after night for four months, minus a couple of small breaks, Galvan had been tasked with guarding Bunker O51, until Jan. 30, 1968, when he was “stunned” by the seemingly erratic order to report to the mess tent.
“I was angry,” Galvan recalled. “I was mad, plain and simple.”
The clock had struck midnight, and it was now Jan. 31, 1968. Little did Galvan know, it was the dawning of a day that would go down in history.
Sometime between 2:30-3:30 a.m. the mundaneness of the mess tent was shattered by a barrage of rockets and mortars, marking the beginning of the Tet Offensive, a series of surprise attacks by the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese forces throughout South Vietnam, later considered to be a turning point in the Vietnam War.
Some 1,500 enemy troops flooded onto Tan Son Nhut Air Base; hundreds used Bunker O51 as their point of entry, where Galvan and four other soldiers were stationed the night before…and the night before that, and the night before that. This fateful night, it would be five other men guarding the bunker, and only one would survive.
In its tribute to the lone survivor, Sgt. Alonzo J. Coggins, the Vietnam Police Security Association offers the following detailed description of the attack marking the launch of the Tet Offensive:
Viet Cong (VC) and North Vietnamese Army Regulars (NVA) swept down Highway One, blew a hole in the Tan Son Nhut fence, and swarmed toward Bunker O51. The main thrust of the attack had begun at the western perimeter, with 600 enemy dedicated to the defeat and overrunning of Bunker O51.
The NVA knew Bunker O51 was primary to Security Police defensive strategy at Tan Son Nhut Air Base. Therefore, Bunker O51 was a major objective in the path of victory: neutralizing air power over Saigon, and an all-out attempt to destroy U.S. Forces and establish a Communist government in South Vietnam. Attacking NVA forces were to capture the U.S. Forces Headquarters located at the base, and assist with the capture of Saigon.
The North Vietnamese attacked the bunker in full force. Records of taped radio transmissions recorded the twenty-four minutes Bunker O51's defenders fought against such overwhelming odds. Communist forces…enveloped Bunker O51. Machine gun fire from Bunker O51, flanking positions from SP Towers, and repeated strafing runs by AC-47 and Cobra helicopter gunships failed to blunt the enemy's forward progress.
The number of enemy dead around Bunker O51 gave evidence to the violent struggle taking place. Enemy soldiers had advanced over the bodies of more than a hundred of their comrades, killed in the first wave assault against Bunker O51. Although mortally wounded, Sgt. (Louis H.) Fischer continued to fight after all of his team members were apparently either dead or dying. He knew the importance of giving time to the blocking force to halt the advance of the North Vietnamese forces. After running out of ammunition, Sgt. Fischer still communicated to the end, indicating enemy positions and losses, which eventually allowed the blocking forces to push the enemy off the base.
NVA soldiers reached the walls of the bunkerand sprayed the inside with AK-47 automatic fire. One by one the Security Policemen's guns fell silent … and with a final radio transmission … they were gone. The Security Policemen in O51 Bunker fought to their death – to the last man – after taking 20 direct rocket hits from the main attack thrust. [Four were KIA, a fifth was WIA and so badly wounded he was left for dead during the battle by the NVA.]
The NVA's first objective was achieved by finally taking over O51 Bunker. But Air Force Security Police were responding and laying down ever increasing heavy fire.
Although Sgt. Louis H. Fischer was killed in action at the age of 19, and while leading the key defensive position at Bunker O51, his fire-team of USAF Security Policemen had stopped the enemy's advance cold for twenty-four precious minutes. Denying enemy forces access to Tan Son Nhut Air Base for those crucial minutes would later prove decisive to base defense. But at that moment, the NVA's plan and timetable were not in jeopardy.
Sgt. Coggins' four comrades were dead – killed in action defending the Air Base. The badly wounded Sgt. Coggins lay among their bodies, spent shells, scurrying enemy, concrete chip dust, heat, shouting Vietnamese, and the continuing hell of battle. Severely wounded, and often unconscious, Sgt. Coggins did not present a threat to the NVA and VC that had overrun the bunker. He was obviously critically wounded and not worth shooting, as they continued desperately fighting to hold the bunker and resume forward motion. http://www.vspa.com/tsn-o51-bunker-tet-coggins-to-the-last-man-1968.htm.
“Four of the guards were killed, and one survived,” Galvan uttered. “I should have been there. I had been there every night before.” In fact, Galvan would return to the bunker that same day, first to help protect and defend, and then to collect and bury.
When Galvan heard the first blast of the Tet Offensive, he sprinted from the mess tent to the armory to grab a rifle. The young soldier was put in charge of 40 security guards and tasked with guarding the F-110s and F-111s parked at the air base.
“We all got busy protecting,” he said emphatically. Then Galvan and his crew followed the enemy toward the Cholon District, where Galvan witnessed a scene that would become a symbol of the brutality of the Vietnam era: the point-blank execution of a Viet Cong prisoner. Photographer Eddie Adams immortalized the horrific moment when Nguyen Ngoc Loan, a police chief from South Vietnam, raised his sidearm and shot Viet Cong operative Nguyen Van Lem execution-style in the head.
“I was 10 yards away when that photograph was taken,” Galvan said softly. “I saw the whole thing.”
Galvan and his men returned to the base and Bunker O51, which was still under attack with three enemy helicopters firing overhead. The bunker was eventually overrun by the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong as they continued their infiltration. However, the air base was secured by American and South Vietnamese forces later that day. Once again Galvan returned to Bunker O51, this time to separate body parts and place them in bags, and to help dig a mass grave to bury some 120 enemy soldiers killed in the firefight.
Galvan remained on guard duty at Bunker O51 until his discharge in March 1970, when he returned home to what appeared to be an ungrateful nation.
“It wasn’t an acceptable war by the community,” Galvan explained. “Nobody wanted you, and they treated veterans very, very poorly. We weren’t accepted, and sometimes we could not get good jobs because we were veterans.”
Galvan described the months and years following his discharge as fraught with physical and psychological problems, triggered by his experience in Vietnam. He prefers to speak of those in a brief manner, citing the effects of Agent Orange, post-traumatic stress disorder, and physical limitations due to his back injury and numerous hernia-related surgeries, all brought on by his time at war. These mental and physical challenges were compounded by a bitterness and anger that grew within Galvan as he witnessed the mistreatment and rejection of Vietnam veterans.
“It wasn’t until 30 years later that we were accepted,” he maintained.
Galvan took a job as a relief captain on a tugboat and then opened up an old service station. He turned to his faith to help assuage his personal anguish, “relying on the Bible, my church and prayer.
“It was the only way I could get rid of my bitterness at those who were intolerant of Vietnam veterans, who went to war by no fault of their own,” he said.
As Galvan began to integrate back into the community, he educated himself and became an insurance broker, working in the industry for about a dozen years before running for county commissioner.
“I wanted to make a difference,” Galvan recounted. He had been elected to the city council at age 30 and was enjoying the fulfillment that came from serving his community.
Roger Galvan is now in his 12th year as a Calhoun County commissioner, and he is a past president of the South Texas County Judges and Commissioners Association.
On Veterans Day, Galvan will honor the nation’s veterans at a special event in Calhoun County where area groups will join together for a meal and special program; Galvan will serve as chaplain.
He can now look back on his own wartime experience in a reflective manner, still amazed at the life-saving call that took him from Bunker O51 on the eve of a massive invasion. And, the bitterness Galvan felt following his homecoming has dissipated; rather, he has turned his attention to those currently in uniform.
“It’s now a different world for our soldiers,” he concluded. “And I am so happy about that.” H – By Julie Anderson