Bernie Tiranti
Following his honorable discharge, Tiranti returned to his home in Chicago. He died after a long struggle against cancer in May 1974, at age 25.
His story does not end there: Five years later, Bernie’s mother, Elvira Schmidt, filed suit in federal court on behalf of Bernie’s estate, joining with several other cancer-stricken Vietnam veterans and the estates of two others who had died from certain rare or unusual cancers. Named as defendants in what became a gigantic class-action suit were Dow Chemical, Inc., Hercules, Inc., Diamond Shamrock, Inc., Northwest Industries, Inc., Monsanto Co., and North American Phillips. All were associated with manufacturing or dispersing dioxin, the herbicide in Agent Orange.
This was America’s first successful environmental class-action suit, and resulted in a multibillion-dollar settlement that included a small sum for each of thousands of plaintiffs, plus reimbursement to the Veterans Administration and the Social Security Fund for costs incurred in treating Agent Orange victims, and funding for education and treatment. The settlement led Congress to pass a law that extended Veterans Administration medical and disability benefits to any service members who served in Vietnam if they suffered from any of a long list of medical conditions associated with Agent Orange.
Maurice Zollner
Zollner was awarded the Purple Heart for the facial wound he suffered on Kate, and the Bronze Star with “V” device for his service on the firebase and during our escape and evasion. I learned this only recently, and subsequently requested that this decoration be upgraded to the Silver Star. Zollner lives in a small Illinois city near St. Louis, Missouri.
• • •
AS for me, merely serving in the Mike Force was validation of all the training I had and the sacrifices that I had made since enlisting. Understand: Mobile Strike Force units, along with such special projects such as Special Operations Group, Delta Force, and so on, were the chosen few of America’s elite. It would require another book to fully explain the depth, scope, and missions of the II Corps Mike Force, or, as it was affectionately known, the Death Brigade.
I was wounded a second time in April 1970 while clearing bunkers during the Battle of Dak Seang. As it was getting dark, we arrived at our last bunker. I asked one of my Yards to do a low crawl and flank the bunker, get in close, and toss a grenade through the firing aperture. I still remember the look he gave me! I’ll never ask a man to do something I hadn’t done or wouldn’t do—so off I went. I approached the bunker from its east side and eased up to the firing port. At this point Charlie and I played blindman’s bluff. I threw a grenade inside, and he threw it back, but not close enough to hurt me. Then a ChiCom stick grenade came flying out. I was prone and too close to the grenade for comfort, but too far to throw it back. I had just started to roll away when it exploded. For a second or two I was Superman, flying through the air. It knocked the wind out of me, but the shrapnel wounds were not serious.
I remained with Mike Force until May, when I was hit again, this time by mortar shrapnel. There was then a theater-wide policy to the effect that anyone awarded a third Purple Heart could request immediate transfer to a Stateside duty assignment. I seem to remember that this was how a young naval type—a tall, skinny swift boat commander with a lot of hair and a Massachusetts accent—cut his combat tour to four months.
I was not ready to come out of the field. I was not ready to stop fighting. I was not ready to leave my men . . . but I would obey orders. When I was told to report to Nha Trang for a staff job, I was reminded, not for the first time, that soldiers are sometimes ordered to perform tasks they find distasteful.
To my mind, I served with the finest combat unit that America ever fielded. They were the best of the best, heroes every one. I tried to be the top soldier in every unit that I served in, but I never thought for a minute that I was the best of that bunch. Nevertheless, I completed every mission to the best of my ability. I was unhappy about coming out of the field, but after a period of reflection I decided that maybe it was time to cash in my chips and leave the casino with all my body parts. I thought it might be a good idea to take a little time to decompress before returning to the world of clean water, clean sheets, hot showers, and food eaten from plates. I believe in fate, but I also believe in the chain of command; I saw that they had conspired to take me out of harm’s way. I was 22, healthy, brimming with self-confidence, and there was a big, wide world waiting to be explored in the Land of the Big PX.
So I reported to my desk in Nha Trang. My war was over. Two months later, I flew home with a second Silver Star, five Bronze Stars (three for valor), two Air Medals (one for valor), the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry with the rarely awarded silver star, a Green Weenie for valor, a Presidential Unit Citation, a bunch of campaign medals, and, of course, the three Purple Hearts.
From the day I enlisted, the only award that I truly coveted was the Combat Infantryman Badge, the instantly recognizable mark of a fighting soldier. The Army awards the CIB to infantrymen and Special Forces soldiers in the rank of colonel and below who personally fought in active ground combat while assigned to either an infantry, Ranger, or Special Forces unit of brigade size or smaller. I am grateful for my other decorations, but anything past my CIB was just gravy.
• • •
AFTER I left active duty, I returned to the Quad Cities and enrolled in Augustana College. I also took command of an Army Reserve company. In 1975, after earning a BA in business and sociology, I became a special agent of the US Secret Service. In a career spanning more than twenty-five years, I protected six presidents, their families, and a parade of visiting foreign heads of state. I also worked undercover on counterfeiting details and investigated criminal violations of Treasury laws.
Meanwhile, I married and started a family. That marriage ended in 1989, when my children, Nick, Clint, and Jenny were seven, eleven, and sixteen. I was awarded full custody, and we returned to the Quad City area, where I became resident agent in the Secret Service office there. Of all the things that I have accomplished, raising three children as a single parent to become healthy, morally upright, and productive citizens ranks at the top. In 1996, I met the lovely and talented Mary Moran in church; she has completed my life. We were married in 1999; together we have five children and seven grandchildren.
When my youngest child graduated from high school in 1999, Mary and I returned to the nation’s capital, where I served as assistant special-agent-in-charge of the Secret Service’s Washington, DC, office. Upon retiring from government service, I moved to Michigan to become manager of Ford Motor Company’s executive security operations.
We returned to the Quad Cities in 2005, and I launched my own security firm, which allows me to work as much and as often as I choose.
I soon became active in community and veterans organizations, as well as helping to found Veterans for the Constitution with Ken Moffett, a good friend, Vietnam veteran, and former law-enforcement officer. When Bobby Schilling, a local businessman, ran for Congress in 2010, our organization worked hard to raise money and support his ultimately successful campaign. Bobby then offered me the position of veterans affairs officer in his Quad Cities office. I declined and suggested Ken, who was in any case next on Bobby’s list. Then Bobby asked if there was anything that he could do for me.
There was: A couple of years earlier, I had been contacted by Reg Brockwell, who was researching the events that occurred on Firebase Kate so many years earlier. Brockwell encouraged me to write an account of my recollections. Seeking closure to the ordeal of Kate and the military decoration that had been promised but never received, I gave that incomplete but factual account to the man whom Bobby two years later would defeat at the polls, Congressman Phil Hare. Hare accomplished very little on my behalf.
So I told Bobby about Kate, and asked him to research the missing award and help me find closure. He gave that task to Ken, who took the ball and ran with it. Ran right out of the stadium: Over several months, he accumulated hundreds o
f documents, tracked down more than a dozen men who had served on Kate with me or in the skies above us, and asked them to provide statements regarding my actions. Presented with this package of information, Bobby decided to recommend me for the Medal of Honor.
Instead, in November 2012, the Department of the Army awarded me a Silver Star, my third, for my actions on Kate. This is the text of the award narrative:
Captain William L. Albracht
Fifth Special Forces Group (Airborne)
For Gallantry: In action from 28 October 1969 to 1 November 1969, during combat operations against an armed enemy of the United States, as Executive Officer of Detachment A-236, Company B, 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne), 1st Special Forces, while in the Republic of Vietnam. Captain Albracht’s calm and reassuring leadership as the Officer In Charge of Fire Support Base Kate enabled his forces to successfully withstand the initial waves of enemy attacks. The following day, with complete disregard for his own safety, Captain Albracht moved under intense enemy fire carrying a wounded Soldier to safety and directing incoming medevac helicopters. Despite his shrapnel wounds, Captain Albracht refused evacuation and continued to lead his Soldiers in fighting enemy forces and ultimately withdrawing from the base. Over the period of six hours, Captain Albracht and his Soldiers successfully evaded enemy forces while moving through the jungle under cover of darkness to meet United States forces at the rescue position. Captain Albracht’s bravery, self-sacrifice, and exceptional tactical skill enabled the defenders of Fire Support Base Kate to not only defend their position until the last possible moment, but also successfully escape prior to being overrun. Captain Albracht’s achievements are in keeping with the finest traditions of military service and reflect great credit upon himself, the 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne), and the United States Army.
This terse summary of five days of almost constant combat against overwhelming numbers of well-armed, courageous, and determined enemy troops, followed by a seemingly impossible escape through their lines, may seem to fall short of describing the scope and hazards described by the firsthand accounts of this book.
The men on Firebase Kate were thrust by circumstance into a life-or-death struggle. Volunteer or draftee, American or Montagnard, each man rose to confront every challenge, to overcome every obstacle before him, and did so in a selfless and courageous manner. The opportunity to lead such men under our nation’s flag was far more of an honor than any that this citizen soldier can imagine.
APPENDIX
The Spooky Chronicles
Spooky aircraft were equipped with a tape recorder to record air-to-air and air-to-ground radio transmissions sent or received during a mission, as well as internal crew communications via intercom. The following transcript of recordings over and near Firebase Kate was provided by Major Al Dykes, USAF (Ret.), who served as Spooky 41’s navigator and mission commander. The original transcription was made by US Army Special Forces Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Pries (Ret.). For clarity and brevity, it has been severely redacted.
Dates of tapes: 31 Oct 69, 1 Nov 69, 2 Nov 69, and 30 Nov 69.
Location: FSB Kate (YU581548), Republic of Vietnam.
Transcriber’s Notes:
No effort was made to correlate time of transmissions with elapsed time on the recordings, nor to account for pauses between transmissions.
Although stations identified themselves phonetically in the audio, phonetic pronunciations were deleted.
Ellipses denote pauses or portions of the tape that were unintelligible.
When multiple stations transmitted simultaneously, only the first intelligible transmission was transcribed in its entirety.
Due to atmospheric conditions, individual personnel speech patterns, multiple simultaneous transmissions on the same frequency, or recording issues, some portions were unintelligible. This transcription was made from tapes recorded more than forty years earlier; portions have deteriorated into unintelligibility.
Conversations between the mission commander with other Spooky crew are indicated as PILOT or GUNNER or LOADER.
Station
Individual/Unit
Location/Notes
CHICKEN HAWK (HAWK)
CPT William Albracht
Firebase Kate Bu Prang
SPOOKY 41 VICTOR CREW 1—VIN CREW 2
CPT Al Dykes CPT Wells
Phan Rang Spooky 41 navigator/mission commander Follow-on navigator of Spooky 41
UNJUST CHASER
SSG DeNote, Commo Chief A-236
Bu Prang Special Forces Camp
JULIET
Division Control
BMT
PEEPER 38
Artillery SMAJ?
Firing clearance for Hawk
CARBON OUTLAW 25
USAF air traffic control
Gives Peeper 38, 60 and Chowder 60 authorization to fire at ground targets
PEEPER 60, 62, DELTA
USAF Gunships
GRAND PALETTE JULIET
SHADOW 48
Replaced Spooky 41 on 31 Oct 69
RAGGED SCOOPER
Control element for Spookies and Shadows
CHICKEN HAWK’S BUDDY, BEAK
Lt. Maurice Zollner
Changed his call sign to Beak due to shrapnel thru the nose
SPAD ZERO TWO
USAF Major Gerald Helmich
A1H Skyraider air support for Kate
KANGAROO CONTROL
No flares until clearance due to 4 different elements; any Viking call sign
LIMA SALINES
Mike Force
CAB ZERO SEVEN
MIKE EIGHT ZERO
ROADRUNNER
Oscar 3
MAIN TRIPOD
SSG Denote, Commo Chief
Bu Prang, Special Forces Team A-236
PRYBAR
USAF aircraft run by Main Tripod
PAPA 43
Team on ground in Tape 3
Night of 31 October—1 November
MAKING CONTACT
Chicken Hawk: Spooky 41 this is Chicken Hawk.
Spooky 41: Roger Chicken Hawk, this is Spooky 41, go.
Spooky 41: Chicken Hawk are you on Victor [VHF radio], over?
Chicken Hawk: Spooky 41 this is Chicken Hawk.
Shadow 61: Spooky 41, Shadow 61, Chicken Hawk is on Fox Mike (FM radio).
Spooky 41: Roger.
Chicken Hawk: OK buddy, is he in our area?
Spooky 41: We heard him talk to you once, called him back, couldn’t get an answer.
Spooky 41: Chicken Hawk, Chicken Hawk Fox Mike
Chicken Hawk: Aww, roger, Spooky 41, are you picking me up?
Spooky 41: Roger, loud and clear.
Chicken Hawk: . . . how far are you from my location?
Spooky 41: Stand by one.
Spooky 41: About 15 minutes out, over.
Shadow 61: (Unintelligible) . . . I don’t know if they advised you but we left a Lulu for you to help mark the camp. It’s about 200 meters 080 bearing from his camp.
Spooky 41: Roger, sir, appreciate that much.
Spooky 41: Sir, do you have contact with Chicken Hawk at this time?
Shadow 61: Roger, we do.
Spooky 41: OK he’s talking to me and he comes in sometimes, sometimes he don’t. Uhh, can you ask him if he reads me please?
Shadow 61: Chicken Hawk you reading Spooky aren’t you?
Chicken Hawk: This is the Hawk, I can read him loud and clear, loud and clear.
Shadow 61: Roger . . . reading you loud and clear Spooky 41.
Spooky 41: Roger, I read you that time Chicken Hawk. How do you read me now, over?
Chicken Hawk: Lo . . .
Spooky 41: Chicken Hawk you were broken, I’ll give you a call back in a few minutes.
Shadow 61: Can you flash a landing light?
Spooky 41: Roger we just flashed landing light.
Shadow 61: Roger we’re almost due west of your position.
Spooky 41: Roger we have you in sig
ht.
Chicken Hawk: I’ll be putting out a strobe for you, right on our firebase here. We’ve only got one, ahh, and its low on batteries, so I’m going to put it in and let’s get a real good adjustment and then I gotta turn it off. Is this OK with you?
Spooky 41: Roger that, and Chicken Hawk, Outlaw 25 said that he’d kind of like us to just fly around a little bit before we start expending or dropping too many flares so we can, ahh, so we can extend our time with you, over.
Chicken Hawk: That’s a roger roger roger on that buddy. Like I was telling the 61, I’ve worked him before, real good people there, and ahh, as long as they hear you up there, you put out a little bit here and a little bit there, they’re not going to try a hell of a lot because . . . they know you can shoot up every time they move with you people up there.
Spooky 41: Roger that and by the way, Happy Halloween, the Spookies are out.
Chicken Hawk: (Laughing) Roger that. Listen, have I ever worked you before?
Spooky 41: I was over here the other night buddy.
Chicken Hawk: OK, real fine, real fine, I’m glad you’re familiar with the area. Give you a little update, this has been heaviest yet, we took all kinds of shit today. I ain’t kidding you, every time we turned around we were getting it. So that’s why when I’m directing you all around the perimeter, believe me it’s all there.
Spooky 41: Roger buddy, and I got a question to ask you. Is your position on top of a scraped-off hill with about 50 meters from your position a tree line starts and just north of your position another bald hill with a clump of trees right in the center of it?
Abandoned in Hell _The Fight for Vietnam's Firebase Kate Page 29