I was grunt in the 9th Division in the Mekong Delta 1968-69. I only saw one attempt at fragging and it involved a colonel, not a company grade officer (lieutenants and captains). It also involved rifle fire rather than a hand grenade.
Our field grade officers (majors, lieutenant colonels and full colonels) were so poor that they embarassed themselves before history. They didn’t LEAD men into battle, but rather tried to MANAGE them into battle.
We went through a succession of colonels as battalion commander. None made much of an impression on us grunts. We simply never saw them. Although I imagine each went home telling everyone how much we loved and respected him, and he had a pet-name like “Wild Bob.”
Whichever colonel was in command at a given time, he would fly 5,000 feet above us, safe and dry in his helicopter. He would radio down to us how worthless we were, how we should be travelling through the mud and jungle at some much higher speed, and how we were letting down the country. In the afternoon he’d fly back to the basecamp, have dinner in the officers’ mess, and sleep in his nice, comfortable bed.
I’m sure every grunt was thinking the same thing: “Why don’t you come down here and get your boots dirty. Then you’ll see how fast we can go. Why don’t you spend the night with us in the mud and mosquitos? Then you’ll see how fresh and rested we are in the morning.” But no colonel ever did and all were ignorant of the terrain.
I saw one field grade officer in the field only once. A lieutenant colonel landed in his helicopter late one afternoon. He humped with us for about 45 minutes, and then flew away again. These guys were simply absent - cowards. We could die, but that just didn’t fit into their career plans.
Now to the fragging incident: My squad was sent on a ambush patrol one evening. We were bedded down in our ponchos alongside a jungle trail. There was another squad about 200 meters away.
Someone in the other squad unscrewed the flash suppressor from his M16 and fired at the colonels chopper- reputedly an M16 minus a flash supressor sounded like an AK47 when fired at you, maybe so, who knows? The colonel then had the door-gunners spray down the entire area with M60 machinegun fire. It was a miracle no one was killed.
Later, through contacts with supply in the rear, the helicopter pilot let us know that he didn’t mind if we shot the colonel, but since he didn’t care to be shot himself, he would bank the chopper so that we could get a clear shot. Nothing ever came of that.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Peter