The Lost Battalion of Tet: A Reflection

By Lt. Colonel Charles A. Krohn, USA (Ret)

We now think of Tet ’68 as the turning point of the war in Vietnam. Until January 1968, optimism expressed by senior military leadership in Saigon was generally accepted uncritically, both at home and in the foxholes. Victory may not be just around the corner, we were told, but the trend lines pointed upward. And so it seemed.

After Tet, official proclamations lost their luster. Dismissed as sophistry were claims that Hanoi’s heavy losses put us ahead of the game. Those of us on the ground weren’t certain what the truth was. We were content to obey orders and wonder what tomorrow’s mission would be.

The possibility that we would one day leave Vietnam with our tail between our legs was so remote that only dedicated communists and their legions of supporters could harbor such outrageous sentiments. We grew up believing our nation never lost a war.. However greatness was measured, we were always at the top and always would be. There was nothing ambiguous about that!

My book describes the near-destruction of our infantry battalion during Tet ’68 in action against North Vietnamese forces; first, in the Que Son Valley near Da Nang, and later north of Hue. In the later situation, we were sent to assist beleaguered Marines fighting for survival during the Siege of Hue. Near the end of February when it was all over, we licked our wounds and mourned our casualties. In real numbers, this amounted to 81 men killed in action and some 250 wounded.

Of course, we were stunned by our considerable losses as well as by the duration and brutality of the Tet offensive. Others may have had advance warning, but we were taken by surprise. I was the battalion’s intelligence officer, and I knew as much as anyone from brigade or division H.Q. would share. Still, we never challenged the conviction that we would end the war on the victorious side.

The notion that the United States could be driven from the field by little people in black pajamas was too preposterous to contemplate. Our generals and many colonels earned their spurs during World War II and Korea; real wars, unlike the piffle that was Vietnam.

Immediately after the costly engagements near Hue, my battalion, the 2d Battalion, 12th Cavalry, was refurbished with men and materiel. We needed refitting of almost everything and everyone needed rest and a few good meals. Uniforms were a high priority, because ours were in tatters. It was not uncommon to see genitals and buttocks exposed. Equipment needed cleaning and worn items such as machinegun barrels needed replacing too. We needed to be completely restocked with ammunition. The major challenge was to integrate the replacements into the battalion, to keep the force fit to fight. Assigning new people to the battalion was easy for the personnel specialists; bonding them with the old hands took more time.

After several weeks we were selected to be the vanguard of the 1st Air Cavalry Division ordered by General Westmoreland to assault North Vietnamese Army units surrounding the US Marine base at Khe Sanh. The NVA were routed, adding to our belief in our ultimately invincibility.

The people and government of South Vietnam trusted us to come to their aid, based on President Nixon’s assurances given in the post-Paris talks. This created an excuse to withdraw American forces with honor. The President declared all parties at war must take risks for peace. Regardless, the United States would never allow the independence of South Vietnam to be in serious jeopardy.

Of course, we were tired and wanted to forget. The bands stopped playing. Only a few veterans wept when Saigon fell. For better or worse, we in the military emerged with our careers intact and looked to the future with typical American optimism. My awards and decorations were genuine, but couldn’t disguise the fact that we were on the losing side of a noble cause. I suppose Vietnamese soldiers who distinguished themselves in combat were sought out, marked for reeducation or execution, leaving their fleeing families to die at sea.