Valor Friday

Harold Bascom Durham Jr.

Harold Bascom Durham Jr was born 12 October 1942 in Rocky Mount, North Carolina. The city of his birth is deep in cotton and tobacco country, and was the site of a 1962 Martin Luther King Jr. speech where he used his “I have a dream” line a year before he delivered it on the Washington Mall. Durham wouldn’t hear it though, because his family moved to Tifton, Georgia a few months after he was born, which is where he was raised. His father, Harold Sr was a Marine Corps veteran of the Second World War.

After high school in May 1960, Harold Jr found his way to Colorado. There he attended Fort Lewis A&M College (now Fort Lewis College). While working at a restaurant he found himself in a bit of legal trouble. He was working a table with a co-worker, and the two were to split the tips. When that didn’t happen, an argument ensued, which came to blows. Police were called, and while they initially proferred no charges against the two hot-heads, the other man later retained a lawyer and pressed charges. Durham was given a minor sentence, but the incident would require a waiver when he later tried to enlist in the Army.

In September 1963 Durham moved back to Georgia. When his brother joined the Army, so too did Harold. His morality waiver restricted him to a three year enlistment. He was trained as a helicopter mechanic, specifically working as a rotor and prop repairman. The mid-60s saw a massive increase in Army aviation. Before the end of the decade, the helicopter would be firmly rooted in US Army doctrine. That doctrine would be developed and refined in Vietnam, which is where Durham would soon find himself.

Durham was sent to Vietnam in April 1965, for what I assume was a one year tour. He deployed as a private first class in rank, but several months later was a temporary specialist four. Before his year was up, he’d apparently impressed his leadership, as he was offered an OCS slot. He rotated back to the States to attend OCS after just under 12 months months in-country.

When applying for OCS, a man is allowed to give a preference on his eventual branch of service within the Army (armor, engineer, ordnance, etc.). He gave them his top three. Durham apparently wanted to return to Vietnam, as his top choice was to become and Infantry Branch officer. With the rapid increase in American troops in Vietnam ongoing (and which would soon expand much more), an infantry officer would surely see Vietnam at least once in the next few years. Durham selected Artillery Branch for his second choice, and his third was Transportation Corps (which is where he’d been serving while working on choppers).

The Army actually gave Durham one of his choices. He was commissioned after OCS as a second lieutenant in the Artillery Branch on 16 December 1966. He attended all the applicable courses and then volunteered for Vietnam again. By now it was September 1967, and things had really heated up for the Americans serving in the war.

Durham was an officer in the 1st Infantry Division (“The Big Red One”), 15th Field Artillery. After just a month in-country on his second trip to the oppressive heat and humidity that was Vietnam, he was working with a line infantry unit as a forward observer. Artillery officers would serve these rotations in the perverbial trenches with the front-line troops, calling in supporting artillery (and close air support or naval gun fires). Forward controllers (both in the air and on the ground) would free up the ground commander from having to coordinate these indirect fires.

On the morning of 17 October, 2nd Lieutenant Durham was seconded to Company D of the 28th Infantry Division. They were conducting a reconnaissance patrol about 56 miles northwest of Saigon. Company A was also on the patrol, with their own artillery forward observer assigned. Should they find the suspected enemy forces, these two artillerymen would commence raining hellfire upon them from their big guns.

The American grunts walked right into one of the Viet Cong’s typical ambush in the jungle. Firing on the men from well concealed and prepared positions, sniper fire first greeted them and then heavy automatic weapons fire. It was just after 1000 hours.

Durham rushed to the front of the line and immediately started calling in artillery fire. When the Americans’ fire drove the enemy back momentarily, Durham exposed himself to hostile sniper fire to treat wounded comrades who had been left exposed. Durham and his teammates succeeded in pulling several casualties back to safer covered positions.

Just then the enemy gave an even more concerted attack on the GIs. Falling in the barrage of fire was the forward controller attached to A Company, which of the two infantry companies was in the lead. Hearing this, Durham moved up the line to go to the front of A Company to continue calling in accurate supporting fire.

Before Durham and his radio telegraph operator (RTO) could get there, they ran right into an enemy claymore. The mine’s explosion dropped the RTO, the man was killed instantly. The rest of the blast hit Durham in the face. He suffered severe, painful wounds to the left side of his face and head.

Ignoring his wounds, Durham took the radio set and put it on his back, then continued to move to the apex of enemy contact with Alpha Company. As I’ve explained before, the RTO’s radio pack was a large, heavy set with a big whip aerial antenna sticking straight out the top. As the unit’s sole source of contact with the heavy weapons of the artillery and air force, the enemy learned very early on that if you wanted to stop the big booms, you killed the man with the whip sticking off the big square box on his back. The RTO was probably the easiest target to spot by enemy troops.

Durham ran through a hail of enemy gunfire to arrive at the leading elements of Company A. The enemy was close. Too close.

Durham called in artillery rounds at danger close range. Generally, it’s considered too dangerous to have artillery (or air launched munitions) strike within 600 meters of friendly forces, that’s a little more than a 1/3rd of a mile. With the potential for a round to drift, and the unpredictable way in which it will land/detonate, it’s possible that anything called in within that 600 meter range might hit your own men. Friendly fire being contrary to the mission of destroying the enemy, it’s obviously to be avoided.

Durham was calling in artillery fire just 50 meters (164 feet) from his position. That’s close enough you’re basically being targeted by your own men. When the enemy, who outnumbered the two American companies of GIs about 10 to 1, swarmed and made to overtake Durham’s position, he called in fire just 10 meters (33 feet) from where he was standing. He knew full well that any round might impact right on top of him (through no fault of the artillery crews), but killing the enemy taking him and his men out was more important.

Durham threw a smoke grenade into the enemy’s midst, now just a few meters away from where he was to make his final stand. He called to the aerial observer, who was coordinating the air strike component of the fire support mission, to have the Air Force aim for the smoke. Personally exposed to his own supporting fire, Durham continued to call for more rounds faster and closer.

Throwing smoke grenades, and engaging the enemy with his personal rifle, Durham continued to call in artillery as the enemy enclosed his position. Hit in the stomach by a machine gun round, Durham was fatally wounded, but not dead yet. When not on the radio, he was firing his rifle into the encroaching enemy. When he ran low on ammunition, he ran to his dead RTO, retrieved the man’s extra ammo, and used that to continue the fight.

With his previous head wound the abdominal blood loss compounded his problems. Losing his vision, he continued to lob smoke grenades into the midst of the insurgents, and still radioing to the fire support base (FSB) for the artillery to keep walking rounds closer and closer to his position.

Durham’s efforts were not in vain. The unending accurate artillery barrage broke the enemy attack, and those enemy not dead started to scatter. Durham didn’t give up. Despite his grievous wounds he continued to call in artillery fire onto the retreating enemy, killing several of them.

The Viet Cong soon regrouped. Without his eyesight, he couldn’t see them, but he could hear the enemy. They were charging in a human wave assault, trying to take the valiant forward observer out, and end the precision barrage. Pointing his person weapon into the enemy, he fired at them blind. He called in artillery fire directly on to his position. He repeated his order. Again and again he called for faster fire, and to have it dropped right onto him as the enemy attempted to overrun his position.

Eyewitnesses wrote testimony that Durham at various times during this ordeal stood up in the open, in full view of the enemy, to see where the fire was landing and to further direct the artillery.

When ordered to retreat, Durham, despite his own wounds, helped move men back to the hastily constructed casualty collection point (CCP). Lying with the other wounded, Durham could at this point barely lift his head. Still yet he could be found on the radio, calling for more rounds.

Company D’s first sergeant was providing aid and security at the CCP, when he heard a shout of warning from Durham. Durham had spotted Viet Cong moving to fire at close range on the wounded men where they lay. Thanks to Durham’s warning, the Top was able to dispatch the enemy. He credits Durham’s actions, taken in his final moments, and consisting of his last words, for saving the lives of all the wounded.

Durham died moments later, covered in his own blood, with the radio set still held to his ear. He was five days past his 25th birthday. The battle would continued for a few more hours before reinforcements arrived, and the VC retreated into the jungle to disappear. From a battalion-minus sized force of two rifle companies, 54 Americans lay dead, two missing, and 84 wounded. The enemy left behind 141 killed in action, and it was estimated another 121 were also KIA, with an unknown number of total enemy casualties.

After the battle, Durham was recommended for the Medal of Honor. Supporting eyewitness statements are all consistent. Durham repeatedly ran into enemy fire, delivered accurate small arms fire himself, rendered aid to fallen comrades, and tirelessly called in supporting in-direct fire. He did so after being repeatedly seriously wounded multiple times. One witness statement was filed by an airborne forward observer who had watched the battle unfold from above, the rest were from the men he fought alongside. The infantry company commander to which he was attached, the first sergeant, and several NCOs and privates testified to his bravery.

One artillery crewman, listening by radio from the FSB, said that mid-way through the battle, Durham’s voice changed. He was no longer speaking with the same surety. His voice would fade out. The aerial obersever would call just asking Durham to say “left or right”, because he knew where the man was, but not the quickly closing enemy. Having lost his sight, Durham at one point said of an artillery barrage, “I can’t see it, but it sounds good, bring it closer.” At that point, American artillery was impacting within 15 or 20 meters of his position. This would be his last radio message, one calling for fire directly atop him.

Grace Jolley receives her son’s MoH from VP Spiro Agnew

Just over two years later, Durham was presented (posthumously) with the Medal of Honor for his heroism in action. Vice President Agnew made the presentation at a White House ceremony on 31 October 1969. His mother Grace accepted it on his behalf. It was two years to the day that she’d buried her son. Unfortunately, Durham’s dad Harold Sr, died just a few months after his son. He never knew that his boy had been recommended for (and would later receive) the MoH. I can find record that Harold Sr was advised by the Army (and provided a duplicate set) of his son’s awards earned to that point, which included a Purple Heart and posthumous awards of the Bronze Star Medal and Army Commendation Medal, in addition to his service awards.

Category: Army, Historical, Medal of Honor, Valor, Vietnam, We Remember