Memorial Day: Vietnam. A tribute to Capt. Harvey Kelley, the commanding officer of my company in Vietnam, whom the Viet Cong ambushed and killed on November 20, 1969.
He was a good guy. A career soldier and maybe 30 years old, he may have been a Green Beret, I don’t remember. This was not his first tour in Vietnam. Whether as a Green Beret or Ranger, he’d worked with our allies, the Montagnards, the South Vietnamese living in the tall highlands along the Cambodian and Laotian borders and who intensely disliked the North Vietnamese. There he operated in small teams, so he may have had a hand in creating our “Shotgun Operations,” in which our company of about 80-100 guys divided into small teams of 6 to 8 and went scouting for the Viet Cong or to set up ambushes for them. Our colonel thought “shotgun operations” were brilliant and effective, though some men in our company thought we weren’t trained for a “Special Forces type” of operations. I do know that Kelley was wise, battle-hardened, and not foolhardy when we were “in the field.”
The first time I met him was when I arrived to serve with my unit — Mike Platoon, Alpha Company (about 100 guys), 1st of the 18th Regiment ( a regiment whose campaign history included being a part of Gen. Sherman’s army which burned my home town and pillaged my ancestors’ places during the Civil War), which was now part of the First Infantry Division (the Big Red One of D Day fame).
Being a newbie, I went to see Kelley. He was with a group of other officers, having just returned from recon operations up near Cambodia, and was relaxing with a beer or two in their barracks in Di An, our brigade headquarters. Being new, I wasn’t sure of what to expect, but Kelley looked at me squarely and said that if I did my job, worked with other guys, did what I was supposed to do, then I’d be okay and get home alive. He may have told all new arrivals that, I don’t know, but his confidence gave me confidence. And confidence is what leaders are supposed to instill. Like fear, confidence is contagious.
After he was killed, a friend in my platoon told me that when they’d been out on those recon operations near Cambodia, Kelley had been informed that his tour of duty “in the field” was over and that another captain was on hand to take his place. He asked the name. It was an officer Kelley knew, who was not smart but gung ho. That’s a recipe for getting soldiers killed.
Apparently, the replacement was like Confederate Gen. Hood at the Battle of Jonesboro, whose out-numbered troops assaulted lines of Union soldiers, some of whom were armed with repeating rifles while Confederates had conventional single-shot rifles. When the Confederates were driven back in retreat, Hood, unlike Lee or Grant, blamed them for lack of courage. The defeat was his soldiers’ fault.
In Kelley’s case, envisioning what his replacement would do to his men, he refused safety and agreed to stay in the field for another month or two, even though he had a wife and two young daughters (see photo).
That’s the story I heard, and it may not be true, but we believed it. We knew he valued our lives, and we appreciated that. As always, mistakes were made, but he didn’t blame us. As leader, he was responsible.
One “mistake” was on November 20th, when we were out on a “shotgun operation.” We’d been inserted by choppers into a clearing in the jungle, and the Viet Cong opened up on Kelley’s command squad. I’d landed before Kelley, and my team was already in the jungle when we heard the gunfire. We paused but not getting calls on the radio for help, we moved deeper into the jungle’s cover.
One of Kelley’s men was wounded, and Kelley, I heard, was ticked. Letting his anger control him, he and his command team chased the VC, who’d beat a hasty retreat into “the bush” as we called it. Against what we’d been trained to do, his team of about 8 guys ran in hot pursuit, seeking revenge. About a half mile or so into the jungle, the VC stopped, set up an ambush on either side of the path. Kelley was point man. When he got close, the VC killed him outright and took off.
By that time, my team was in the jungle and had stopped to await all the company’s getting in position and in communication. To explain: After landing by different choppers and before going too far in separate directions in the jungle, it was critical that our company become re-organized as a unit, even if separated by distance, and re-establish radio communications, which were critical since we couldn’t see one another.
In my team’s position, I remember hearing the gunfire from the VC’s AK-47’s in the distance and the return fire of M-16’s. Then, silence. Could be good; could be bad. Our team of about 6 didn’t know.
We had formed a small, defensive circle. After a short while, our platoon sergeant, Jerry Mercer, got on the “horn,” as we called the radio. After listening for a minute or two, he fell silent and dropped his head, as if stunned or in prayer. I was wondering what had happened. Then he whispered, “They got Kelley.”
Kelley paid the ultimate price for his refusal to leave. I imagine that if he could speak to us today, he wouldn’t say it was “someone else’s fault.” He wouldn’t blame others. He would take responsibility.
Responsible leadership. It is a lesson that his death taught me, even to this day.
Isn’t that something on Memorial Day that all of us can remember and emulate?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
George W. McDaniel, PhD, is the President of McDaniel Consulting, LLC, a strategy firm that helps organizations use history to build bridges within itself and to its broader constituents. For 25 years, he served as the Executive Director of Drayton Hall, a historic site in Charleston, SC. A native of Atlanta, he earned a BA from Sewanee, a MAT (history) from Brown University, and PhD (history) from Duke. Interspersed through those years were travels to many places — Europe, Africa, Vietnam — where he saw peace and war and learned by experience about cultural differences and commonalities. For 40 years, he built a career working in education and history museums, beginning with the Smithsonian Institution, and earning awards at the local, state, and national levels.
“Building Bridges through History”
The company’s tagline is grounded in McDaniel’s personal beliefs and his professional experience. Services address site management, preservation, education, board development, fundraising, community outreach, and more.
Rather than using history to divide us, McDaniel helps organizations use history, especially local history, to enhance cross-cultural understanding and to support local museums, preservation, and education.
Turning Beliefs into Actions
Dr. McDaniel led volunteer efforts with Emanuel AME Church and historical organizations in Charleston to use historic preservation to enhance racial reconciliation and healing.
A frequent writer, speaker, and facilitator, reach him at gmcdaniel4444@gmail.com or through his website www.mcdanielconsulting.net.
Images courtesy of the author unless otherwise noted.
McDaniel Consulting LLC is a strategy firm that helps organizations use history to build bridges within itself and its broader constituents. 