Introduction  

By January 1967, the Vietnam War was intensifying. U.S. forces were conducting relentless operations to suppress Viet Cong and North Vietnamese activity throughout I Corps—the northernmost military region of South Vietnam. In that environment, Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 1st Marines, received a dangerous and unusual assignment: a heliborne raid on a village located outside the designated Area of Operations.  

The directive for the mission was stark: “To Kill or Capture.” The raid was scheduled for high noon on January 14th, 1967. Charlie Company was supposed to field 225 Marines for the mission, but only 165 were available, including corpsmen and communications personnel.  

At the time, I was just 19 years old. I had been in Vietnam for less than three weeks and had recently been assigned to 2nd Platoon, Charlie Company. While the rest of the platoon had been operating in the field for over 90 days, I had only been with them for a week or two. I was still learning their names and who they were when we received the orders on January 13th that we would be assaulting a remote village the following day.  

Our company commander, Capt. Marsh Carter, had been temporarily pulled from the field and sent back to Da Nang to receive new orders. Recognizing the risk, he made two key decisions: he secured additional helicopters to act as reserves and accepted the suggestion to replace the M60s with .50 caliber machine guns on the helicopter door mounts to provide heavier fire support. We were undermanned, on edge, and heading into hostile territory in the heat of the day. What followed would test every man to his core.  

Historical Context  

Quảng Ngãi Province, located along the South China Sea, had long been a stronghold for Viet Cong activity. No one had been in the area since the French pulled out years ago. The area’s thick vegetation, rice paddies, and scattered hamlets made it difficult to control. Despite repeated operations, enemy forces continued to move freely through the region.  

Charlie Company had been operating north of that area for months. Intelligence indicated the presence of 100 to 150 Viet Cong snipers within a fortified village, supported by three VC companies and two NVA battalions within a few hours' march. The snipers were forming up to proceed to an area in the mountains to learn about setting mines and boobytraps.   

As stated earlier, Capt. Carter, after receiving orders in Da Nang, successfully fought for additional helicopter support and accepted the installation of .50 caliber machine guns to replace M60s. These preparations would prove vital to the operation.  

A second Marine company, Delta 1/1, was assigned as a Rapid Response Force if requested by Capt. Carter.  

1. The Operation – January 14, 1967  

The afternoon and evening of January 13th were filled with rehearsals and briefings. Squad leaders and NCOs walked us through every phase of the mission. We believed that when we faced the enemy, we would be successful because of our training, our strength, and our preparation. Charlie Company was separated from the rest of the battalion for operational security. This was the mission where we were going to "reach out and touch the enemy" outside our Area of Operations.  

On the morning of the 14th, six CH-46 helicopters were assigned for insertion. First Platoon, along with part of Weapons and Communications, went in first to secure the LZ, which was right in the middle of a rice paddy filled with water and mud. Second Platoon (my platoon) and Third Platoon followed in the second wave. Sadly, Cpl. White was probably the first casualty of Raid as he was killed by enemy fire while riding in the chopper with 1st Lt. Wester.  

During the initial insertion, Capt. Carter’s helicopter carrying him, Cpl Mike Noa, and Cpl. Nick Newman was struck by enemy fire, and the chopper was forced to return to base. Since, Capt. Carter had the foresight to request two additional helicopters as reserves, upon landing, Carter and the other Marines quickly transferred to one of the reserve choppers and returned immediately to the fight. Their return ensured leadership continuity and strengthened the resolve of the Marines already on the ground.   

As our wave came in, the first wave previously inserted had already come under intense fire from the village. I stepped off the helicopter into calf-deep water, slogging over 100 meters to reach cover under withering small arms fire and mortar bursts. During the push, a fellow Marine sat down in the water, overwhelmed. A CBS cameraman captured it on film. Weeks later, that Marine’s father wrote, asking why he hadn’t moved faster. Unless you were there, you wouldn’t understand. What is truly interesting is that Vietnam was the first war where the American people saw the results each day’s combat at their dinner table, just like my buddy’s father.  

Second Platoon was tasked with entering the village; Third Platoon was to hit from the opposite side in a pincer movement. But Third Platoon got bogged down, and Second Platoon had to fight its way alone to the church which was the designated objective. We engaged in nearly hand-to-hand combat. My lieutenant, 1st Lt. Wester, (2nd Platoon CO and Company XO) was wounded but refused aid, dragging himself out so others could stay in the fight.  

My squad leader, Cpl. Jim Cannington and our machine gunner, Cpl. Sutton another squad leader, were killed. In the confusion, I ended up with both my M14 and an M60 machine gun. We cleared hooches, many housing both VC and civilians. It was a free-fire zone, but when I approached a bunker ready to throw in a grenade, I heard a baby crying, I held back. I couldn’t live with killing a child.  

Once we secured the church and captured a prisoner carrying valuable intel, we turned to extract. But we couldn’t leave Cpl. Cannington and Cpl. Sutton behind. Repeated attempts to recover Cannington’s body failed until Capt. Carter stepped in.  

He armed himself with M26 grenades and his M1911A1 .45, told us to lay down cover fire, and went in alone. Under fire, he retrieved Cpl. Cannington’s body without injury. Once the body was out, we regrouped, but now we were surrounded. Two NVA battalions had begun to arrive to support the VC. Enemy fire became more intense with each passing minute.  

Capt. Carter faced a choice: call in Delta Company or extract Charlie. He chose to extract, knowing bringing in Delta would likely have resulted in both companies being lost. I believe that if he had made the other call, every Marine’s name in Charlie and Delta would be on the wall in Washington today.  

We fought our way out, and Capt. Carter, with Cpl. Mike Noa, were the last two Marines to board the choppers. Charlie Company suffered 22% casualties; 41 killed or wounded, including five dead. Capt. Carter received the Navy Cross for his actions.  

Enduring Legacy  

The battle we fought on January 14, 1967, is not forgotten, not by the men who were there, and not by the Marine Corps.  

Every eight weeks or so, three or four of us; Capt. Marsh Carter, Cpl. Mike Noa, Cpl. Nick Newman, PFC Jim Kirlin, and myself, travel from as far away as New York and South Carolina to attend and participate in the “Tactical Planning" Class at The Basic School (TBS) in Quantico, Virginia.  

We do not speak for recognition or remembrance. We speak so that the next generation of Marine officers understands that leadership is not a rank; it is earned.  

And Capt. Marsh Carter earned it.  

He exemplified true leadership because he consistently thought not of himself, but of his Marines. In every decision, under fire and under pressure, he put the welfare of his men above his own safety or recognition. He acted with courage, clarity, and a deep sense of responsibility that defined his command.  

Our story is to illustrate what was accomplished that day under earned leadership; the kind that makes the difference between survival and loss, between chaos and cohesion.  

We tell them what it means to carry out the mission, to endure loss, and to make decisions not for self, but for the Marines standing beside you.  

We speak so they will know: Leadership is not found in a manual. It is earned in the field, through sacrifice, selflessness, and resolve.  

And when that moment comes, it looks like Capt. Marsh Carter.  

1. Acknowledgment of Continued Service  

In addition to remembering the events of January 14, 1967, it is important to recognize the continued commitment of the Marines who still serve, in word, in presence, and in example.  

I would like to express my personal thanks and respect to the following Marines:  

• Capt. Marsh Carter, Company Commander, Charlie Company    

  For continuing to participate in the “Tactical Planning" Class, both in person and more recently via Zoom, passing on the lessons of leadership to the next generation of officers.  

• Cpl. Mike Noa, MOS  0351 (Rockets)    

• Cpl. Nick Newman, MOS 2355 (Communications)    

  Both of these Marines have attended nearly every “Tactical Planning" Class since 2017, offering their perspectives, stories, and experiences as a living part of Marine Corps history.  

• Cpl. Jim Kirlin, 0311 (Rifleman)    

  Despite facing illness, Jim continues to attend as many classes as he can, demonstrating a devotion to the Corps and to his fellow Marines that has never wavered.  

Their continued participation is more than an act of memory; it is a reaffirmation of Marine Corps tradition. Their dedication to passing on the values of leadership, service, and sacrifice to new Second Lieutenants stands as a shining example of what it means to never stop serving.  

They honor the Corps, not just by what they did in combat, but by how they continue to live the values of the Marine Corps every day, and try to pass that on to new Lt’s attending TBS.  

With great admiration and respect,  

Richard G. Bazaco