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The Vietnam War – Charlie Hettling – a Minneota Marine at An Hoa and his road home

We’ve been learning about Charlie Hettling’s Vietnam service in the Marine Corps to help us better understand the Vietnam War’s impact on our region.

Charlie Hettling grew up near Minneota, graduating with the Minneota High School class of 1961. He enlisted in the Marines in March 1965 and deployed to Vietnam in April 1966 with the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment

Charlie’s battalion landed at Chu Lai, Vietnam and spent six months patrolling from their base northwest of Chu Lai.

Around Thanksgiving of 1966 Charlie’s battalion moved further north to a base at An Hoa, inland from the huge U.S. base at Danang. Charlie described An Hoa as even more austere and posed more challenges.

“It was the monsoon. Everything was underwater and muddy. Nothing got in there unless it was by air. Beans, bullets, and bandages is all you got. The first convoy that came through at An Hoa was about March.”

The Marines relied on airlift during those months of the monsoon. But Charlie explained that airlift was not always possible.

“There [were] times when the ceiling was so bad that they couldn’t fly anything and we were getting pretty low [on supplies]. It was a foot and a half above your head; looked like clouds; and it was just solid. There were times when it was only cheese sandwiches for chow.”

An Hoa was semi-developed when the 5th Marines arrived so the men built bunkers, living areas, and workshops.

“We built a little place to work on the Mules (low-slung, motorized, cargo and weapons carriers),” Charlie recalled, “We scrounged metal that we saw laying around and two by fours. Pretty bare essentials we built – enough so you were out of the rain so you could do some work.”

Enemy activity was more common at An Hoa.

“We found out later that was the Viet Cong supply route to Danang. Danang was a lucrative target because of all the aircraft,” Charlie recalled. “They wouldn’t really attack us much, but we’d keep running into them. We were getting mortared more. Something was always happening.”

Regular enemy contact required being alert all the time. “You’re never safe,” Charlie explained, “So you always had to be ready.”

Charlie explained the road clearing process when the weather finally allowed road convoys.

“Nothing could come in until we swept the road every morning for mines. You had to be security. They’d have half of you on the left side and half of you on the right side about a ¼ mile from the mine sweepers, watching for snipers so they wouldn’t get hit. Usually it wasn’t very fast because if the minesweeping found something, they’d check it. Then about noon they could start sending convoys.”

Supply convoys to An Hoa triggered smaller convoys from An Hoa to remote, sub-bases. Charlie led security for these convoys. His security team carried their new M-16 assault rifles, grenades, and the platoon’s M-60 machine gun. He described these missions.

“We’d be delivering C-rations, ammo, or whatever they needed. It was pretty rugged – roads through the hills — this side would be straight down and that side would be up with jungle all over. You’re winding around all over so you couldn’t see ahead of you – prime areas for ambush.”

The constant stress of being alert for contact wore down the Marines. Charlie explained another, subtle cost of combat service, “If you had feelings you couldn’t survive over there, so you had to sort of pull your feelings away.”

Charlie remembered one bright spot in that dark place — a USO visit by the movie star Jayne Mansfield. “She was the only one who came out to see us,” he said, “Everyone else wouldn’t because it was too risky.”

Charlie’s year-long tour of duty ended in April 1967.

“I went over as a unit, but went home as an individual,” he recalled.

He caught a helicopter to Danang and boarded a commercial airliner for the flight home. He remembers watching the line of replacements coming off that same airliner.

“They were as green as green,” he said, shaking his head, “They didn’t look like they knew what they were doing. They looked scared.”

Charlie left Vietnam in April of 1967, but a part of him never left.

“I sometimes think of it like I left my soul in Vietnam,” he said quietly, “I lost my way.”

Charlie did not hesitate describing what was most difficult about his service.

“The most difficult part was coming back from Vietnam and getting out of the service. Then it was really like I was lost – to all the sudden come home and everything is isolation and nobody wants to talk about anything and you’re called a baby killer and everybody hates being in Vietnam. I think it’s still a wound. I think it will always be there.”

Charlie completed his enlistment at El Toro Marine Air Station in California and has spent the years since his return home farming and working to recover his footing. He reenlisted in the Marine Corps Reserve in 1977 and completed a career in the Reserves, hoping his experience would be useful to other Marines. He retired as a Master Gunnery Sergeant. He has returned to Vietnam many times.

Our combat veterans never really get to hang up their uniforms.

Thank you for your service, Charlie. Welcome home.

The Lyon County Museum is organizing an exhibit about the impact of the Vietnam War on Lyon County. If you would like to share Vietnam experiences or help with the exhibit, please contact me at prairieview pressllc@gmail.com or call the museum at 537-6580.

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