ODON — As May 15, 1975, dawned, the last wave of U.S. troops in the Vietnam War, 210 leathernecks, set foot on Koh Tang Island; 18 didn’t come home.

The mission was to rescue 39 sailors on board the merchant vessel SS Mayaguez, captured by the Khmer Rouge, a radical Cambodian political group responsible for an estimated 1.5 million deaths from 1975 to 1979.

President General Ford’s demand for safe release of the sailors and ship had fallen on deaf ears.

A military force comprised of Marines, Navy and Air Force units were quickly assembled to free the captives.

Their destination was Koh Tang, a small five-mile-long island about 35 miles southwest of Cambodia.

Two hundred and ten Marines landed on the island; 18 didn’t return.

The veterans of America’s last battle in Vietnam haven’t forgotten that day. They also haven’t forgotten each other. As often as they can, the men rally together in each other’s company expanding the bond created on May 15, 1975.

They reunited this week at Tom Noble’s home in Odon.

Tom Noble

Among the Marines were the 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines (BLT 2/9). Their job was to land on the eastern and western sides of the island and surround the enemy’s encampment.

As troops placed foot on the beaches, they met an enemy willing to fight to the death, branding a memory still remembered after 33 years.

Noble, a resident of Odon, served with the BLT 2/9 and awaited orders on the USS Henry B. Wilson.

Enemy fire intensified, never letting up, shooting two helicopters out of the sky. One had its tail ripped off in flight and swirled down uncontrollably, crash landing on the beach, exposed to enemy fire. The surviving Marines from the crash sprinted into the jungle for cover and remained pinned down for the majority of May 15.

The second helicopter crashed nearly 20 yards off Koh Tang’s shore into the Gulf of Thailand. Surviving Marines were unable to reach the beaches of Koh Tang with enemy fire zipping in their direction. They swam out to sea. When the helicopter crashed and burned it was thought, during the action, that no Marine survived. They tread water for five hours until the USS Henry B. Wilson accidentally stumbled on them.

Tom Noble pulled them in.

Two more helicopters were annihilated by the Khmer Rouge. The zone became too hot for air-rescues. It was decided the remaining 20 or so Marines stranded on the island would be rescued by boat. Noble’s orders were given, and he and six other Marines steered a motorboat head-on into enemy fire.

Noble pushed forward, but his crew were too late for a rescue. Instead, an Air Force helicopter dropped in. Noble, along with three other Marines, picked up four M60s, mounted two of them, and free-held the remaining machine guns to give the helicopter cover, unloading into Koh Tang’s tree line with 7.62 mm bullets.

They were determined to get every Marine off that island, dead or alive.

Noble’s voice lowered and slowed when mentioning the loss of three Marines who just seemed to have disappeared.

“What could of been a more horrible death? Cambodians are right there,” said Noble. “(The men would be thinking) No food, no water, and Americans left me. It couldn’t have been any worse on the face of the earth.”

He dreams nightly, with the question: “What could I have done differently?”

The BLT 2/9 were told during the evacuation that it was all clear and all men where accounted for. Only years later did they find out PVT Danny G. Marshall, PVC Gary L. Hall and L/CPL Joseph N. Hargrove were missing.

The Marines don’t know for certain what happened to their missing brothers. They assume death by the Khmer Rouge.

Noble grew bonds stronger than friendship during Vietnam, during Koh Tang, and said it’s not the same as a high school or college chum.

“It’s the same that on that day, 15 of May, 1975, all of us looked death in the eye, and faced it together,” said Noble.

Uncertainty was common on Koh Tang.

Fred Morris

Fred Morris was certain when he signed up for the United States Marines out of high school. Vietnam was disastrous, but he figured America wouldn’t jump into a jungle without looking first.

He is from Waterloo, Iowa, and was 19 when he headed off for boot camp.

Hours leading up to the May 15 invasion of Koh Tang, the more experienced troops echoed comforts in Morris’ ear such as: Don’t worry about the alert, It happens all the time.

“Clearly we were nervous,” said Morris. “If you weren’t, you weren’t human.”

He was part of the 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines, and they were set on alert.

Intelligence told them to expect 20 to 25 militia-type fishermen on Koh Tang. It would be an easy sweep and home by noon for lunch.

Morris doesn’t remember the five hours leading up to the battle. It all started with the ride over. He flew in on the first helicopter, five days out of boot camp, given an M16 that was so war-ridden from previous owners it didn’t look like a real rifle and expected to perform as a Marine.

The helicopters used that day were HH-53 “Jolly Green Giants.” The current Blackhawk helicopter could fit in one of those, said Morris.

Morris flew in with his group of leathernecks, getting accustomed to the humming of the helicopter. Suddenly, all he heard were loud slaps.

The helicopter came to a steady hover and started spinning. Khmer Rouge bullets showered the chopper.

It dawned on the men of the BLT 2/9 those were AK47s and these were no fishermen, no simple militia. These were heavy machine guns and rocket propelled grenades. Morris found himself in a full-scale battle.

“It seemed like it took the pilot just forever to swing us around and sit down,” said Morris. “The gunner motioned us to get out and we were like, ‘Are you out of your mind?’”

The Khmer Rouge seemed like they were just waiting for Morris. He and the other Marines jumped out, ran toward the nearest patch of elephant grass and took cover.

Morris’ bird made it about 300 yards off shore when it crashed and sank into the Gulf of Thailand.

Morris fired his M16.

“Traumatic would be an understatement. One shot, then I had to pry the bullets out of the chamber before I could load another one in,” said Morris. “It was a worthless rifle.”

The enemy launched a barrage of heavy fire onto incoming USAF helicopters. The second helicopter to come in after Morris’ landed, unloaded its Marines, took off, then got shot down. It became a routine for the helicopters.

Morris was pinned down between a storm of Khmer Rouge gun slaughter and an open sea. He stayed there until nightfall when an Air Force helicopter flew into the sea of enemy fire with the mission to rescue Morris and the remaining Marines.

Continued in Saturday’s paper.