Cleola M. Davis - Forged in Battle: African American Officers Serving in the United States Army

FORGED in BATTLE

My memoir Forged in Battle: African American Officers Serving in the United States Army, chronicles true events as they occurred during the military service of two American Soldiers.

The book follows the ups and downs of my career in the military spanning over twenty years as well as shared stories with Vietnam War veteran and war hero Colonel (retired) James M. Jones. The memoir begins with Colonel Joness storya powerful story of strength and gallantry of a young second lieutenant exhibiting heroism usually only seen in movies.

My memoir was sparked on May 26, 2020, after witnessing the televised death of Mr. George Floyd. His helplessness while suffocating under the weight of a civil authority figure invoked trauma and stress I suppressed during and after my military service. Disturbed by my feelings, I reached out to a friendColonel (retired) Joneswho began telling me of an unresolved experience he had in 1967 while serving as a second lieutenant in Vietnam. As he talked, I began writing his story, and after a few sessions with him I began sharing and writing my stories. Together our experiences are merged to form Forged in Battle.

My experiences are told from my perspective, a womans perspective as I mature during my journey from a nave middle-class debutante to becoming among the first women in the United States Army to command a line unit in an Army armor division while in combat.

Through my experiences, I give voice to the voiceless people who survive their day-to-day jobs afraid to speak the truth of their situation. I am speaking for them. I am speaking for you.

Forged in Battle is action packed, thought provoking, and heartbreaking. No one has ever told a complex military war story like Forged in Battle. It is both a soldiers story (one of gallantry, courage, honor, valor, and service); and one of fearless civil warriors facing and fighting multiple enemies in battles between right and wrong, friendships and enemies, black and white, leadership and cowardice, but above all faith and perseverance.

Chapter 1

Second Lieutenant James Jones, Platoon Leader, Charlie, Company 1/327 Battalion, 1st Brigade (Separate) 101st Airborne Division, in Vietnam, Fall 1967.

Witnessing the murder of Mr. George Floyd on television in May 2020, triggered symptoms akin to posttraumatic stress syndrome. I cried as life was squeezed out of his body while he lay helplessly. I have felt alone and helpless as the weight of American racism was holding me down while I suffocated. Unlike Mr. Floyd, I am alive to tell a true story, and I am compelled to do it because I am the only person who can. So many stories of the African American experience are untold, feeding the lie that we are happy with society as it exists. I believe this story will point out issues that should be fixed.

Sharing my thoughts about Mr. Floyd with my friend Colonel (retired) James M. Jones brought back memories of an incidents in his career that remains unresolved. Mr. Jones began to reflect

***

I was a newly married second lieutenant just out of Airborne Jump school when I received orders to Vietnam. My assignment was third platoon Leader, Charlie Company, 1/327 Battalion, 1st Brigade (Separate) 101 Airborne Division. The company was nicknamed the Cutthroats.

I arrived in the country on August 8, 1967; ten days after my platoon had suffered disastrous losses of half its members. The lieutenant who preceded me was among those killed. Most of the soldiers in my platoon were traumatized; suffering from the recent firefight and from a devastating fight they experienced in May. Most of them had lost confidence. Some of my men had seen two of their platoon leaders die; so, to them I was likely next. My first task was to build trust and morale because confronting the enemy was routine. Existing soldiers had a close bond, but I had to integrate incoming replacement soldiers to form a team. Within my first few days I met with each soldier individually. Some of them were afraid and not ashamed of it. I prayed my favorite Bible verse, the twenty-third Psalm; some drew comfort from it, and some were moved to tears while reciting it with me. I requested and got the Chaplain to hold a service with the platoon as a group. During our session everyone was given the time to express their grief and share lessons learned from their tragedy.

It took every minute to train third platoon to have trust in each other even when assigned to defend our sector within the Firebase, where we lived. Every soldier slept, ate, and lived inside a fighting position guarding our sector. My platoon had between twenty-five and thirty members; numbers fluctuated due to the numbers of casualties and replacement changes. The platoon consisted of two radio telephone operators, two M-60 caliber machine gunners, two assistant gunners, two grenadiers, and a medic. The remaining soldiers were riflemen. I formed a special team I called the Killer Team, consisting of a radio telephone operator, machine gunner, assistant gunner, grenadier, two riflemen, and me. My platoon sergeant oversaw the platoon whenever the Killer Team deployed. Within a week, trust and respect for me had grown significantly.

Heat, humidity, and the thick smell of jet fuel filled my nostrils. Heavy vegetation, trees, and brush abut areas cleared by engineers to provide clear lines of sight from the berm into defense sectors. The Firebase was a heavily engineered fortified command area. Constantia (barred) wire and sandbags provided levels of defense. A landing area for our transportation, the Utility Helicopter-1 Huey helicopterthe Learjet of the Infantrywas just outside the Firebase.

The Charlie Company commander divided the company in pairs of two platoons to maximize capability to accomplish multiple concurrent missions. My platoon, third platoon, was paired with fourth platoon which was led by First Lieutenant Castor. The first and second platoons were paired. Each individual platoon had a separate operating sector and separate areas to clear. Communication was by FM radio using our command frequency.

The evening of September 18, I received my platoons next mission. The company sector was defined on a map, with separate sectors for each platoon. My platoons sector had foliage and trails. Lieutenant Castor and fourth platoon were in the sector left of my platoon. Within his sector was a small village which he had to clear. The other two platoons were in sectors on Castors left and our company command post element was following closely behind the platoons. Our combat assault mission was to search and destroy, sweeping everything within our sector. Search and destroy means find and kill the enemy.

I briefed my men and asked if they had questions. I assured them we were ready and the mission was routine. Before departing we recited together the twenty-third Psalm as written in the King James Version of the Bible.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me down the paths of righteousness for his names sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thy prepareth a table before me in the presence of my enemies, thy anointed my head with oil, my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.

Early the next morning I heard the whirling sound of helicopter blades and felt their gushing wind as the company loaded on board our helicopters.