We have been learning about Lynd’s Ron Jensen and his Vietnam service. Ron was born in Tyler in 1948 and grew up there, in Florence, and in Lynd where he graduated with the Lynd High School class of 1966.

Ron was drafted into the military in 1968; completed his training; and deployed to Vietnam in July 1969. The Army assigned him to a Signal unit on Engineer Hill near Pleiku in Vietnam’s Central Highlands. His main job was to maintain generators for his unit’s radar systems. His detachment also took turns on perimeter security for the base camp.

Ron explained that his being the only non-Signal soldier in his Signal unit led to another extra duty.

“The engineers built the roads and also ran gun trucks. I had to go with the Engineer unit and ride on a gun truck. We’d furnish protection and they’d bring supplies. (Gun trucks) were important. Without them the convoys would have gotten wiped out.”

Ron described the gun truck he served on as a machine gunner.

“It was a 2-1/2 ton truck. It had armored sides that were bullet-proof. The one I was on had one mini-gun and two .50 calibers. The guns were mounted on turrets that would swivel and they also had a shield with holes in it so you could see. We had a ladder mounted on the back. You’d just crawl up that.”

Ron wore green Army fatigues, boots, and sometimes his helmet and helmet liner on gun truck missions. He did not wear a flak jacket. The gunners wore hearing protection because it got loud when they were firing the guns. He described the process for a gun truck run.

“(The Engineers) would say, ‘We need an extra guy today.’ Sometimes you’d go out daily for two weeks in a row and then you might not go for three days. They had a motor pool where they had everything ready. You’d go down there; report in; and away you’d go. They told us (whether it was resupply or construction support). We’d get on the road and they’d line up the convoy (a gun truck leading and another trailing). A couple helicopters (gunships) usually came along. We’d go up; get to a base camp; spend the night; and then come back. Sometimes we’d go out and you might not come back for three-four days.”

Ron recalled his first convoy run.

“The first time I went on a gun truck run there was a jeep ahead of us with four people. When they fired on the convoy, for some reason they went after that jeep. We pulled up in the gun truck and raked (the ambush site) all over. They called in the helicopters and we got through it. When we got to the base camp we counted sixteen bullet holes on that jeep and not one guy got hit.”

He described manning the guns of his gun truck, chuckling when describing most of the roads they traveled.

“They were all rough, just like a field road here. Basically, they just plowed the foliage and stuff so that the trucks can get through. The biggest concern was that it was mountainous. So, if they were shooting down at you, the bullets could come inside the back end and they would ricochet all over. In my tour two guys took shrapnel off the bullets coming inside. Neither of them died. A lot of times you’d run and nothing would happen. You didn’t know until it happened and then, boy.”

Enemy contact on a run was unwarned and the enemy was hidden.

“You never saw them. If they could tell you, ‘The shots are coming from right up there,’ you’d rake that area with a .50 caliber and when you opened up with the mini-gun, they shoot nine hundred rounds a minute. It was like raining bullets. It just tore it up the jungle. Mainly it was to get them to retreat. They knew that when those mini-guns opened up, they needed to get going.”

Ron explained that, while each enemy encounter was unwarned, they learned to assess their danger level.

“You could usually tell right away. Sometimes there might be three guys out there harassing you or there might be 300 intent on taking out that convoy. If you got hit hard, the helicopters would come and help. If you could hold off the enemy fire for 15 or 20 minutes, the jets would get there. They’d come and drop napalm (flaming, jellied gasoline). With machine guns and anything that was using bullets, (the enemy) knew where to hide. But the napalm was bad stuff. If you were in there, you were done. If it was close enough, you could feel the heat.”

Ron explained that his gun truck missions encountered enemy fire about once every seven or eight missions, but they never knew whether a mission would turn hot. That uncertainty led to constant anxiety and coping behaviors.

“You never really knew. We had so many (gun truck runs). We drank a lot. Even on our gun truck runs we drank just to get rid of the anxiety. The first two months were the worst because you had never experienced it. After two months you just came to the conclusion that you probably weren’t going home.”

The Lyon County Museum is sponsoring a Veterans Coffee at 1:30 p.m. on Tuesday, Sept.19, for veterans of any armed service and any period. Please join us for coffee, conversation, and camaraderie. Veterans Coffees will continue on the 1st Tuesday of each month.