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I will never forget 6/6/68. I was in 1st plt. Delta Co. We had a new plt. cmdr., S/Sgt who didn't know shit about being a grunt. The night before we set up he stopped on the low end of a saddle. Tim Russell was acting plt. guide and he told him that it was a bad position. But the S/Sgt just pointed to his chevrons and Russ's chevrons and told him that he was the one in charge. Needless to say, the next morning the NVA had the upper hand and rained RPG's and machine gun fire on our plt. I had a good hole where no one could get close without exposing themselves and missed the first part of the fight. We wanted to go help 2nd squad but that S/Sgt. told us that we would be flanked, not to go. He never left his hole during the whole battle. Russ finally came over and said that our guys needed help and I brought my fire team over. Too late, there were dead Marines in and out of their holes all over the place. Doc Ike was doing what he could even though there were still a couple NVA around. I took cover behind something that I didn't realize was a dead NVA until a minute or two later. After the fight was over, we took care of the worst wounded. It didn't take long because most of 2nd squad was dead. I helped carry one person I knew, who had half his face shot off, plus shot up other places. [I ran into him down in D.C. during the dedication of the Memorial and he said he hated my guts. that still bothers me.] Doc Ike found a faint pulse in Bill Parker and we hustled him up to get med-evaced, but he died in transit. I pulled Jack Enix and wrapped him in a poncho. I can still remember his shattered glasses laying outside his hole. Larry Reed, whom I went from boot camp all the way through 1st plt., was next. That was rough. Over 35 years ago, and I can still remember when we pulled him out of his hole. His head flopped back as we pulled him out and I was looking into his lifeless blue eyes. I told him that I don't know if you can still hear me but I'll see you somewhere, sometime, someplace. What else do I remember? a water can with water pouring out of a bullet hole... throwing dead NVA over a hillside because they were starting to stink... scrapping brain matter off my boot with a stick wondering if it was American or gook... intermitting mortar rounds dropping in on us... cleaning our 16's joking that if we stayed another night that this should be called LZ Alamo... a rumor that after it got dark we were going to break into small teams and try to evade the NVA as we would try to get back to American lines... having to go on a working party to get ammo and being told to leave our weapons behind so we could carry more [I borrowed a buddy's 45 and tucked it in my belt not wanting to go unarmed].[ the belt is my only war souvenir, I pulled it off a dead NVA that day because I only had a piece of com wire holding my pants up.] The night before, it came down that 2nd squad wanted a fire team leader to help fill in their positions. I was all set to go when T.J. Frasier pulled rank on me. He had 2 months seniority on me as a L/Cpl. He had been a M.P. in Da Nang and volunteered to be a grunt because he wanted to be a ''real'' Marine. It kind of pissed me off. He wanted to borrow my watch that my Mom had just sent me so I lent it to him. He was one of the ones who also was KIA. The next morning after the fight I told Russ I was going up to the LZ to get my watch back. He said o.k. But when I got up there, the LZ seemed to be filled with dead Marines in poncho and poncho liners. I remember all those jungle boots hanging out of ponchos and poncho liners. No way could I start lifting up all those ponchos to look for Frasier. I was afraid to see all my friends again in their death. I was worried someone might think I was robbing the dead also. I went back and told Russ I couldn't do it, He told be T.J. got hit with a direct hit from an RPG and the watch was probably destroyed anyway. Russ and I were the last ones on the chopper from our plt. We could not take everything with us [captured weapons, extra gear,, etc. so we put that stuff in foxholes and as we were pulling back to the LZ , we threw thermite grenades in and took off like Hell. I remember enemy mortars and small arms fire going off all around us and I was afraid we would miss that chopper. What a relief when we made it out. As we were in flight we got word that one of the choppers leaving with us was not in sight and we would have to go back. There were a lot of grim faces but everyone checked their weapons and prepared to go back. But then our chopper turned around and continued to LZ Stud. When we got there the balance of Delta Co. was there. Marines on light duty, coming or going on R&R, office personal, anyone who could carry a rifle. They were determined to come in on the last chopper to Loon to join us. Whenever I hear Semper Fi, I think back to those Marines.