“Friendly Fire Isn’t,” by Captain LeRoy Reinburg, Jr., U.S. Coast Guard–Retired

There are many tragedies in warfare but some of the most tragic, because they are frequently avoidable, are deaths or injury caused by the (oxymoron) “friendly fire.”

The military term for friendly fire is the more descriptive word fratricide. These tragedies are avoidable because they are, in many cases, caused by errors. Although I was not directly involved in the incident I am about to describe, my ship was a part of the same operation, and I knew the commanding officer of the ship involved.

Shrapnel holes in roof of U.S. Navy Riverine Force Base, Song Ong Doc, Vietnam, 1970, caused by U.S. Coast Guard cutter Sherman firing on friendlies, 1970.

In the spring of 1970, the ship I commanded, the U.S. Coast Guard High Endurance Cutter (HEC) Pontchartrain, was deployed to the Republic of Vietnam (RVN), as a unit of Coast Guard Squadron Three, an organization attached to Commander U.S. Seventh Fleet. We were a part of U.S. Navy Task Force 115, the Commander, Coastal Surveillance Force. Our assignment was patrolling the offshore coastal areas of RVN to interdict enemy trawlers, which were constantly attempting to smuggle personnel, munitions, and supplies to their forces ashore. In addition, we provided Naval Gunfire Support (NGFS) to friendly forces. Our area of operation was divided into nine patrol areas stretching from the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) between North and South Vietnam to the Cambodian border in the Gulf of Thailand.

These areas were numbered One at the DMZ and Nine at the border between RVN and Cambodia. It was in the latter area, that is, patrol area Nine, where a friendly-fire incident took place. The Pontchartrain had just arrived in area Nine to relieve the “outchopping” HEC that was involved in the friendly-fire incident. The term “chopping” connotes changing of operational control, and the “out” indicates that they are leaving the operational command, in this case, the U.S. Seventh Fleet, and heading back to CONUS (Continental U.S.).

As a part of the relief ritual, my ship anchored close to where the other ship was anchored, in fire support position several hundred yards from the U.S. Navy Riverine Force Base, Song Ong Doc, Republic of Vietnam. I went by small boat over to the other Coast Guard ship with the Engineer Officer, the Operations Officer, and the Gunnery Officer to exchange information on activity, intelligence, and any other items of current operational interest. I knew from monitoring the fleet broadcast that the ship we were relieving had been very recently involved in a friendly-fire incident, but I was not aware of any of the details.

U.S. Navy Riverine Force Base Song Ong Doc, Vietnam, June 1970. Photo by LeRoy Reinburg, Jr.

I didn’t know what to expect when I spoke to the commanding officer, whom I had known for many years. He greeted me warmly, and we discussed operations. I had hoped that we could discuss the friendly-fire incident because, not only was I curious, but I also thought there might be some important and timely lessons to be learned. And I was not disappointed.

The commanding officer of the other HEC described to me in great detail what had happened, and as he spoke, he became very emotional. Even after a thorough internal investigation, it could not be determined what had caused the error. The Navy Base at Song Ong Doc called the ship in the middle of the night with a call for fire on a sensor activation (these were called “Duffle Bag”). The base was ringed with precisely charted acoustic, magnetic, and seismic sensors to detect any attempted attack by the Viet Cong. When the base called the ship and asked for Naval Gunfire Support (NGFS) on a specific sensor activation, the ship would respond with its 5″/38-caliber gun, using HECVT (proximity-fused high-capacity explosive) projectiles. In this case, the call was for ten rounds over target. Midway through the firing, the base called for ceasefire because the rounds were exploding over the base. Unfortunately, by the time this command reached the gunmount, the last round was already in the air.

The CO said that the whole incident was devastating to him. One of the worst things for him was when he went ashore to the base that same day to face the Navy personnel. Several of them had been killed, and a number were wounded by the shell fragments. Since the ship had a doctor, the Medevac helicopters brought the casualties out to the ship for emergency treatment. All of the ship’s company had to face the very real consequences of the ship’s actions, and all were very deeply affected. The CO told me that in the future, before he gave the command “Battery released,” he, personally, would check to see if the gun barrel was pointed toward the target. Privately, I thought this would not only be impractical but would also introduce an unacceptable delay in answering a call for fire. He also told me that he intended to retire as soon as the ship returned to its homeport. I don’t know whether he actually did retire four years before his mandatory retirement date, but I do know that the shadow of this tragic incident remained with me for the balance of our deployment.

[Written January 17, 2008]

Webmaster’s note: GMGC Tom Humerick, U.S. Navy–Retired, who was at the Riverine Base at Song Ong Doc during this friendly-fire tragedy, provides a very detailed account of the events in an article on the website Jack’s Joint: “Tragedy in Vietnam.”

Visit the Brownwater Navy Vietnam website for additional accounts and information on the Coast Guard ships in Vietnam, Song Ong Doc, and this friendly-fire incident in May 1970, including those accounts by Coast Guard personnel Dave Desiderio and Tom Lackey.

See additional discussion by L. Reinburg of his experiences in the Coast Guard during the Vietnam War in “A Coast Guardsman’s Recollections of Vietnam.”