The Battle of A Shau Part I: Col. Bernard Francis Fisher

Welcome to the Medal of Honor podcast, brought to you in partnership with the National Medal of Honor Museum. I’m Ken Harbaugh. In each episode, we’ll learn about a different service member who has distinguished him or herself through an act of valor.

In 1964, Congress authorized the deployment of troops to Vietnam. By March 1966, there were 23,000 troops in the country, but large-scale conflict had yet to break out. In preparation for this, both the North and South Vietnamese Armies hoped to sway minority populations into fighting on their side. These minority populations, often referred to as Montagnards, are akin to Native American tribes in the US. They’re distinct ethnic groups with unique dialects, and cultures that suffered tremendously under colonization. Starting just over a hundred years earlier, they were forced away from their ancestral homes and underwent violent assimilation at the hands of the French and Vietnamese, made to give up their language, culture, and eventually their sovereignty when their land was annexed by South Vietnam in 1954. Meanwhile, the Montagnards were conscripted by the French and Vietnamese to fight in their wars, often with false promises of a return towards autonomy.

Three years prior to the arrival of American troops in Vietnam, the CIA began setting up camps for the Montagnards, hoping to expand counterinsurgency efforts into remote areas. At these camps, indigenous villagers were organized into the Civilian Irregular Defense Group, or CIDG. As members of the CIDG, they lived alongside and took orders from American & Vietnamese soldiers. These CIDG camps ran into many issues. First, communication could be quite difficult. Due to the language and dialect barriers, sometimes up to two translators were needed to communicate with the local soldiers. Second, the CIDG soldiers weren’t always loyal to South Vietnam & the U.S.. Many indigenous soldiers had also been conscripted to fight for the North, meaning the CIDG was often fighting their own people in someone else’s war. Fed up after decades of oppression and empty promises from all sides, the indigenous population was reaching a breaking point, and would do whatever got them closer to sovereignty. Some locals aligned with the North Vietnamese Army would become CIDG soldiers in order to spy on enemy operations and improve their abilities via CIDG training. Even if a soldier was initially aligned with the South, there wasn’t a guarantee they’d remain loyal if given a better opportunity elsewhere.

One of these CIDG camps was located in A Shau Valley. This was a 30-mile-long valley located in South Vietnam, close to its border to the North. It was a key route used by the NVA to transport troops and supplies into South Vietnam, and it eventually became part of the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Despite this, the camp was actually in a terrible strategic position. It was 30 miles from the next friendly camp, surrounded by mountains, and located in a thick, triple canopy jungle. The camp’s inhabitants were fish in a barrel. It’s unclear exactly why the camp was placed there, but the camp was definitely a thorn in the enemy’s side.

The camp itself was triangular, since that was easier to defend, with each side measuring 200 yards long. Its walls were composed mainly of dirt, and reinforced with materials like tin, logs, and sandbags. Each wall had a trench alongside it. The camp was surrounded by five rows of concertina wire and then fields of claymore mines. Just outside the camp, perpendicular to the west wall, was a short airstrip, and the main gate was on the south wall. The camp held about 288 people, more than ⅔ of which were CIDG soldiers. Also at the camp were 9 members of the U.S. Army Special Forces, aka the Green Berets, 6 members of South Vietnam’s special forces, aka the LLDB, 41 civilian laborers, and two interpreters.

Leading up to March 1966, the inhabitants of Camp A Shau were aware of an impending attack. Signs showed that NVA forces drew closer to their location, but the details didn’t become clear until March 5th when two enemy NVA soldiers surrendered to the camp. Fearing the danger of the looming attack, they decided to defect and provide intel rather than fight for the North and lose their lives. They revealed that the NVA forces in the area were planning a massive assault on camp A Shau, and it was planned for the 11th or 12th of March, just days away.

The camp was ill-prepared for this. The defense posts in the surrounding area were vacant because they didn’t have the numbers to man them, many camp structures were deteriorated, and they’d be severely outnumbered. The camp requested reinforcements, but these were initially denied. Instead flyovers were sent to locate enemy positions which were later hit by airstrikes. These strikes however did minimal damage. Planes overhead also broadcasted messages recorded by the two defectors, encouraging their comrades to defect, but these had seemingly no effect.

Backup was eventually given to Camp A Shau in the form of 7 Americans, 9 interpreters, and 140 Chinese Nungs. Nungs were another minority, separate from those at A Shau, who were ethnically Han Chinese but had been living in Vietnam for almost a thousand years. They were regarded as fierce warriors, and in turn were paid better than any other ethnic minority.

On March 8th, a third and final defector came into the camp and warned them that the attack was imminent. Storm clouds moved in earlier than expected, providing perfect cover from American bombers and fighters, so the assault was pushed up. The camp’s defenders hastily finalized their preparations and settled in. All they could do now was wait.

On March 9th, 1966 at 3:40am, the attack began. The NVA launched multiple mortar attacks and landed direct hits on the team house, communications bunker, and numerous other buildings, indicating that NVA sympathizers within the camp had told them right where to hit. Immediately the camp's generators were destroyed and the antenna masts were blown off, cutting off outside communications and leaving them without power. Underground lines should have kept comms running, but they had been sabotaged by a traitor working on behalf of the NVA.

Everyone who wasn’t trapped in rubble sprinted to their battle posts. One of these soldiers was Sergeant First Class Bennie Adkins, a member of the U.S. Army Special Forces. Armed with his sawed off pump action shotgun, he raced to his 81mm mortar pit. It was ground-level and double sandbagged, but all of the 4 or 5 men in it had to keep low in order to avoid poking their heads over the walls. Adkins immediately began firing on the enemy, using stakes he had placed in the fields before the battle to aim. As he was firing, Adkins was approached by another Green Beret who needed help assisting two wounded comrades in the center of the camp. Through mortar fire, they rushed to their allies' side. Adkins gave a shot of morphine to one who had both of his legs blown off, and put an IV in the other. Needing to get them out of harm's way, Adkins and his ally moved both wounded comrades to relative safety in the underground dispensary. Adkins then returned to his station to continue his defense of the camp.

Because comms were down, it was an hour before American Headquarters even knew of the attack, and another five before they were fully able to reestablish communications. By then, half the camp’s mortar ammo had been depleted. Enemies that had crossed the minefield and concertina wire were being met with small arms fire and grenades.

At 11am, Navy pilots flew in to airstrike the enemy, but the cloud cover left them completely blind to the battle below. Instead they had to rely on their ears and instincts to locate the enemy. Thankfully these airstrikes hit their targets, but the defenders of the camp below were fearful of potential friendly fire.

After the airstrikes, two Army aircraft landed on the airstrip through the cloud cover to evacuate the wounded. Adkins, along with other American and indigenous soldiers, were initially able to secure the strip, but they soon came under heavy small arms fire. They quickly realized that the fire was actually coming from inside their own camp. The CIDG soldiers of the 141st Company had evidently switched sides and started fighting on behalf of the NVA. Upon taking fire, one of the aircrafts made a successful escape, while the other stayed and continued its mission.

Adkins and his allies rushed to load the small aircraft with wounded. In order to protect one wounded soldier from enemy fire, Adkins ripped a seat out of the plane to use as a shield. The aircraft was successfully loaded and was able to escape the battle, but not before Adkins was hit in the leg by the 141’s fire. Adkins and his allies then returned to the camp, knowing there would be traitors amongst them.

At 1pm, more backup arrived in the form of the Douglas AC-47, a fixed wing gunship. Known amongst the soldiers as “Puff the Magic Dragon”, they cheered as it flew overhead, knowing it could save them from the enemy onslaught. In an instant, the enemy opened fire with their anti-aircraft machine guns, knocking the gunship out of the sky before it even had a chance to fire. The aircraft crashed two miles north of the camp, shocking the camp defenders, and allowing the NVA to recover two miniguns, along with 22,000 rounds of ammo from the crash site.

Later that afternoon, hope reappeared in the form of three desperately needed supply drops. As a result of the bad weather, one of them landed just outside of the camp in the minefield, near Adkins’ position. Taking two CIDG soldiers with him, Adkins left the cover of his mortar position to grab what he could. His first ally was killed and the second was wounded before they even reached the drop. Determined to save his remaining comrade, Adkins put him on his back and attempted to carry him back to camp. Seeing this, enemy NVA soldiers seemingly decided to toy with Adkins. They shot the soldier on his back multiple times, but never Adkins directly. When Adkins arrived back at the camp, his ally was dead, and he himself was wounded by rounds that passed through his comrade’s body. If it weren’t for that wounded soldier, Adkins would have been killed.

Nonetheless, Adkins was still determined to retrieve the supply drop. He navigated through enemy fire and the minefield, successfully returning with ammunition from the drop. Although the ammunition was crucial to their defense, Adkins also knew they were in desperate need of water after their water tower had been destroyed. Covered by his allies, he journeyed to the drop for a third time and grabbed a metal water can with each hand. Seeing yet another opportunity to demoralize their enemies, the NVA again diverted their fire from Adkins, this time targeting the cans. When Adkins arrived back at camp, the cans were littered with bullet holes, and only a little water remained at the bottom of each one.

Meanwhile, two CIDG soldiers from the 141 had been caught firing at the resupply aircraft. They were apprehended and taken to the camp commander, Captain Dung, who was an LLDB soldier. Despite first hand evidence to the contrary, Dung insisted that the men were loyal. The only thing left to do was to report the incident to higher ups. Two Nungs were assigned to watch the accused traitors, but it’s likely that the Nungs took matters into their own hands and executed them.

At 6pm, two helicopters arrived to evacuate the wounded. The first was shot down as it made its descent, but its four crew members were unharmed. The second landed safely, initiating a mad dash to the aircraft. The CIDG soldiers knew they were heavily outnumbered, and the odds of escape had just been cut in half, so madness ensued as they rushed to board the aircraft. The helicopter only had the capacity for 26 wounded, in addition to their comrades from the other downed helicopter. The crew members did everything they could to push off uninjured CIDG soldiers, but one in particular wasn’t budging. He held up his gun and threatened the crew, beginning a stand off within the helicopter. Then in an instant, an NVA bullet flew through the door into the helicopter, and hit the CIDG soldier, killing him. Shaking off a few more stragglers during its ascent, the helicopter successfully evacuated. Everyone left at the camp would be stuck another night.

At 2am the next day, the NVA launched a barrage with everything they had. Mortars, anti-tank rockets, machine gun fire, recoilless rifle fire, and small arms fire hit all at once, exploding throughout the camp and lighting everything ablaze. By 5am, all the camp’s bunkers were destroyed and most of the mortars were put out of commission. The barrage paved the way for a wave of soldiers to attack in a mass assault towards the west and south walls. The defenders were able to fight them off, but the enemy was reaching the inside of the camp.

During these assaults, Adkins’ mortar position was one of very few still left standing. As he continued firing at the charging enemy, he quickly noticed a pattern to their attacks. The NVA soldiers would chant before the barrage commenced. Then, when mortar fire lifted, their commander would fire a flare-like illumination round called a green star cluster to signal the start of the attack.

After two or three of these attacks, Adkins waited until the enemy barrage began, and then fired his own green star cluster. The enemy took the cue and a whole company attacked, running right into their own fire. The NVA stopped using the green star clusters after that.

Despite this success, the enemy made it inside the camp. Their numbers were too strong, and some members of the 141 were seen helping the enemy climb over the walls into the camp. As the NVA soldiers infiltrated the perimeter, they came in such close proximity to the defenders that they were nearly forced to engage in hand-to-hand combat. Adkins still manned his mortar pit, and survived three separate mortar explosions at his position that had killed some of his allies. Nearby enemies decided to try to dispose of Adkins and his mortar with handgrenades, but the first few failed to hit their mark. When one finally landed in their pit, a CIDG soldier tried to kick it away. He wasn’t quick enough, and it exploded, taking his leg and shooting shrapnel into Adkins. When the next grenade flew in, Adkins caught it right out of the air and tossed it back at the enemy- a feat which he attributes to his days on the high school baseball team, and dumb luck. Adkins received no more grenade fire after that.

By this point, Adkins had to reinforce his mortar’s bipods with wood from empty ammo boxes in order to keep it operational. His sawed-off shotgun was also coming in handy during all the close range fighting & small arms fire.

At 6am, the U.S. executed more airstrikes on the area, and the cloud cover had lifted enough to send in Douglas A-1 Skyraiders, single-seat attack planes. One of these aircraft radioed to the ground and asked where he should drop the ordinance. Adkins replied, saying he should target the south wall, which was no longer held by the defenders. He also instructed the pilot to pull as hard right as possible after dropping in order to avoid the mountain ahead. The Navy pilot successfully hit the south wall, but for some reason he didn’t pull right. Instead he continued forward, running right into the mountain ahead. The pilot didn’t survive the crash.

Thanks in part to the airstrikes, the NVA was pushed back to the western area of the camp. From there they fired an RPG at Adkins’ position, finally destroying his mortar and killing his entire mortar crew. Still alive, Adkins decided to move to the communications bunker, aka the commo bunker, just a few feet away. Before he could make it, his old position was assaulted, and he was forced to take cover with two allies. One of them stood up, presumably to put eyes on the enemy or to make a run for it, and was shot and killed instantly. The other was shot four times through cover, injuring him significantly. Adkins was able to move him to the commo bunker where he began giving aid. He bandaged up his ally and gave him morphine, but he was losing blood quickly. Adkins needed to administer a blood expander, but his comrade had suffered so many bullet wounds that there was nowhere in his upper body to administer it. Instead, Adkins used his knife to cut into his ally’s leg and administered it there.

After the injured soldier was taken care of, Adkins decided to attempt to recover unused ammo from his old mortar position. He left with one other American soldier, but as soon as they reached the position, an enemy jumped on his ally’s back in an attempt to take him prisoner. Adkins was able to get him off, and they returned to the commo bunker with the ammo.

Around this time, in a different part of the camp, a mortar was fired at the NVA company commander. The round ended up being a dud, but it happened to hit the commander right in the head, killing him with the blunt force of the impact.

From 10am to noon, more pilots attacked the NVA, dropping napalm, bombs, and rockets that inflicted heavy casualties on the enemy. The defenders didn’t hold much of the camp, but these attacks were crucial in helping them maintain their ground. One of these Air Force pilots was Major Bernard Francis Fisher. Fisher had been to A Shau earlier that day, and he and his wingman had just been diverted from another mission to assist again. Their approach wasn’t easy. The narrow valley was littered with anti-aircraft emplacements, and the density of the cloud cover made it almost impossible to find a safe spot to submerge under the 800 ft ceiling. After probing for a while, Fisher spotted a break in the clouds that helped him recognize where he was in relation to the camp. He then led the other four pilots safely below the clouds.

From there, Fisher switched to FM radio in order to communicate with allied forces on the ground. They told him to hit anything except the three mortar bunkers they still held. Fisher obliged, opening all four cannons on the enemies below. The flight leader, Major Dafford W. Myers, did the same, but as he pulled out he was hit. Myers’ plane caught fire and crashed onto the runway, skidding 800 feet. The aircraft then fell off the right side of the runway, hit the bank, and exploded.

Fisher witnessed all of this, and prepared to radio in to report Myer’s death. Then, the wind blew the flames aside, allowing him to get a glimpse of the wreckage. Almost miraculously, he saw Myers burst out of burning aircraft and dive into a ditch. Fisher immediately called for a helicopter and was assured one was on its way. Fisher rejoined the battle, but when there was no sign of a helicopter 10 minutes later, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He called his command post to ask the length of the runway below, and was told it was 3,500 feet. Knowing he could land with just 3,000 feet, and that Myers didn’t have a good chance of making it out alone, he decided to attempt a landing to rescue Myers. Little did Fisher know, the command post made a mistake. The runway was actually only 2,500 feet long, meaning he didn’t have enough space to land. Fisher’s fellow pilots voiced their opposition to the extremely dangerous mission, but Fischer was determined to save his ally.

Through the smoke and fire, Fisher touched down on the runway. He immediately slammed on the brakes, causing the aircraft to skid. Fisher quickly started running out of room. His breaks were red-hot under all the pressure, and there was nothing more he could do. He hit the end of the runway, damaging the right wing and right tail section, but the aircraft was still operable. He spun it around and taxied 800 feet down the runway to try to locate his downed comrade.

Fisher wasn’t the only one looking for Myers. Six soldiers left the camp in an attempt to rescue him, but five were killed and the sixth was pinned down by enemy fire. Meanwhile, Fisher also started taking quite a few rounds as he sped along. He finally spotted Myers waving his hands and jumping up and down, so he slammed on the brakes. Myers sprinted towards the aircraft, but then disappeared out of Fisher’s view. Thinking he was shot, Fisher jumped out of the plane. He found Myers uninjured and helped him onto the wing before jumping in himself and yanking Myers into the aircraft. Without strapping in, Fisher spun around the plane and took off down the runway as quickly as possible. As they took off, Myers’ legs were still seen dangling out of the window. Both Fisher and Myers survived, and Myers only sustained minor burns from the crash. Fisher was later awarded the Medal of Honor for this daring rescue.

Unfortunately for the ground soldiers, they weren’t having the same luck. To hear what happens to Sergeant First Class Adkins and the rest of the defenders of Camp A Shau, tune in next week to The Battle of A Shau Part II.

The Medal of Honor podcast is a production of Evergreen Podcasts.

Nathan Corson is our executive producer and mixing engineer, Declan Rohrs is our associate producer, scriptwriter, and recording engineer, and I’m Ken Harbaugh.

We are proud to support the National Medal of Honor Museum. To learn more, and to support their mission, go to mohmuseum.org. Thanks for listening.