We were Soldiers Once...And Young is on the Marine Corps Reading list and is well worth reading more than once.  We Were Soldiers starring Mel Gibson and Sam Elliott does General Hal Moore and Joe Galloway's book justice. The movie has the reputation among Vietnam Veterans as one of the very few movies that tells it like it was. General Hal Moore was on site during the making of the movie and it has his approval.

Both the book and movie are recommended for any Marine Combat Leadership PME.  You might have your Marines read the book, show the movie several weeks later and follow it up with leadership discussion with your Marines.

I've included some comments from both General Moore and Joe Galloway below that may be useful during a PME.

Preparations: Could fill a book. Only a few items:

1. Read military history. Read small unit actions. Personality of a big battle is often formed by a small unit action
2. Visit historic battlefields with maps, books in hand.
3. Install the WILL TO WIN in your unit. No 2nd place trophies in trophy cases.
4. Build unit discipline, teamwork. A team of fighters
5. Prepare your unit for your death (or being gravely wounded and evacuated) and for your subordinate leader's loss also. A Squad Leader must be ready to command a platoon or the company. PRACTICE THIS!
6. Squad leaders and Fire Team leaders must know how to adjust artillery/mortar fire. Live fire is not always necessary. You can do this with marbles and a sandtable; or golf balls and a small piece of ground.
7. Prepare for wounded men yelling for "Medic" or screaming for "Mom". Practice reducing the enemy fire and neutralizing it BEFORE going out for the wounded. Train for this. It will happen.

Next, Conduct in battle, Four Principles:

   1.  The first is "Three strikes and you're NOT out!". Two things a leader can do. Either contaminate his environment and his unit with his attitude and actions, or he can inspire confidence. 

        Must be visible on the battlefield. Must be in the battle. Battalion Commander on down - Brigade and Division Commander on occasion. Self confident. Positive attitude. Must exhibit his determination to prevail no matter what the odds or how desperate the situation. Must have and display the WILL TO WIN by his actions, his words, his tone of voice on the radio and face to face, his appearance, his demeanor, his countenance, the look in his eyes. He must remain calm and cool. NO fear. Must ignore the noise, dust, smoke, explosions, screams of the wounded, the yells, the dead lying around him. That is all NORMAL!

        Must never give off any hint or evidence that he is uncertain about a positive outcome, even in the most desperate of situations.

        Again, the principle which must be driven into your own head and the heads of your men is: "Three strikes and you're NOT out!"

   2.  And the corollary principle which is inter-reactive with that one is: 

        There is always one more thing you can do to influence any situation in your favor - and after that one more thing - and after that one more thing, etc., etc. 

        In battle, I periodically detached myself mentally for a few seconds from the noise, the screams of the wounded, the explosions, the yelling, the smoke and dust, the intensity of it all and asked myself" "What am I doing that I SHOULD NOT be doing, and what am I not doing that I SHOULD BE DOING to influence the situation in my favor?

   3.  The third principle is: "When there is nothing wrong - there's nothing wrong except - THERE'S NOTHING WRONG!" That's exactly when a leader must be most alert.

   4.  And finally, "Trust your instincts." In critical, fast moving battlefield situations, instincts and intuition amount to an instant Estimate of the Situation. Your instincts are the product of your education, training, reading, personality, and experience. 

        When seconds count, instincts and decisiveness come into play. In quick-developing situation, the leader must act fast, impart confidence to all around him, must not second guess a decision - MAKE IT HAPPEN! In the process, he cannot stand around slack-jawed when he's hit with the unexpected. He must face up to the facts, deal with them and MOVE ON.

                   

Joe Galloway's Speech, Introduced by Jack Smith - January 24, 2003

In talks that expressed the essence of leadership and courage, Joe Galloway and Jack Smith described their experiences in the Battle for the Ia Drang Valley in Vietnam in November 1965. This battle is the subject of Joe’s book, We Were Soldiers Once… and Young. After their talks, a Grand Reception was held on the Club’s 11th floor. Joe and Jack, accompanied by their wives, were kind enough to stand in a reception line for almost two hours, meeting and greeting a crowd of over 400. After the reception, we returned to the theater to watch the movie, “We Were Soldiers,” starring Mel Gibson and Sam Elliott.
 
JACK SMITH’S INTRODUCTION OF JOE GALLOWAY:

Let me set the scene for you.

It is November, 1965…The Ia Drang Valley…The nearest town, Pleiku, a remote Vietnamese province capital. And west of town, beyond the stilted long-huts of the Montagnards, or mountain people…flat scrub jungle till the hills by the Cambodian border.
A smuggler’s haven…and now the infiltration route for the first North Vietnamese regulars to invade South Vietnam.

American regular Infantry, the first sent to Vietnam as the war escalates, have come to this border country to hunt the People’s Army of Vietnam. They are the men of the First Air Cav, the first Army infantry division to ride into war in helicopters. And the leading unit is Lt Colonel Hal Moore’s 1st Battalion, 7th Cavalry Regiment. Driving their choppers into a Landing Zone, or LZ, designated LZ X-Ray, a few miles from the Cambodian border, on the 14th of November, 1965, they land on top of a North Vietnamese regular army base, and a ferocious battle ensues that lasts three whole days. Joe Galloway, then a young correspondent with United Press International, is with them. Hal Moore’s battalion, and Joe with it, several times come within inches of being over-run. Joe is even given a rifle to defend himself. In the end, re-enforced to brigade strength, the US troops destroy the better part of a North Vietnamese division at X-Ray. Seventy-nine Americans are killed, 121 wounded, a total of 200 US casualties—the highest toll of the war till then—but there are roughly two thousand North Vietnamese casualties.

This is the battle that was depicted in the recent Mel Gibson movie, “We Were Soldiers”. It does not, however, show what happened afterwards, on the 4th day of fighting. More men died in that one day than had in the previous
three.

As my battalion, the 2/7, walked away from LZ X-Ray toward another clearing called LZ Albany, we were jumped by a North Vietnamese formation. Like us, about 500-strong.

The fighting was hand-to-hand. It was, I think, the only time during the war that a US battalion was ever over-run. The US casualties for this 4th day of battle: 155 killed, 121 wounded. The North Vietnamese suffered a couple of hundred casualties.

This massacre at LZ Albany was largely overlooked as an aberration—poor leadership, green troops. In this first encounter between their main force regulars, the two sides tended to focus instead on LZ X-Ray, and it fixed the war-fighting tactics used by both sides for the rest of the war. Interestingly, both seized on attrition as the way to win.

The ferocity of the fighting during those four days was appalling. At one point, for instance, in the awful afternoon at LZ Albany as my battalion was being cut to pieces, a small group of enemy came upon me, and thinking I had been killed (I was covered in other people’s blood), proceeded to use me as a sandbag for their machine gun. I pretended to be dead. I remember
the gunner had bony knees that pressed against my sides. He didn’t discover I was alive because he was trembling more than I was. He was, like me, just a teenager. The gunner began firing into the remnants of my company. My buddies began firing back with rifle grenades— M-79s, to those of you who know about them. I remember thinking, Oh, my God, if I stand up, the North Vietnamese will kill me, and if I stay lying down my buddies will get me. Before I went completely mad, a volley of grenades exploded on top of me, killing the enemy boy and injuring me.

It went on like this all day and much of the night. I was wounded twice and thought myself dead. My company suffered 93% casualties.

Just over ten years ago, the whole world learned about the battle when Joe Galloway and the former commanding officer at X-Ray, my friend, retired LTG Hal Moore, together wrote We Were Soldiers Once... and Young, the best book about the Vietnam War and one of the best about any war - and, of course, the basis for the recent movie.

Joseph L. Galloway is arguably the foremost war correspondent of our time. Twenty-two years with United Press, nearly 20 years with US News and World Report. Now with the Knight Ridder organization. He did four tours in Vietnam from 1965 to the end in 1975. Norm Schwartzkopf, who knew Joe in Vietnam and later, in the Gulf War, called him - quote - "the finest combat correspondent of our generation - a soldier's reporter and a soldier's frind." He is the recipient of a raft of journalism awards, and, most remarkably, of the Bronze Star with V device, for rescuing a soldier under fire at LZ X-Ray. Joe is the only civilian awarded a medal of valor by the Army during the whole Vietnam war.

JOE GALLOWAY’S REMARKS:

I want to thank my good friend Jack Smith for what he has shared with us this evening, and for his kind introduction. Jack lived through a day and night of sheer hell in a place called Landing Zone Albany and came out of that experience a stronger, better person. Jack is one of my heroes.

You know, it's funny how one little step can change your life. For me that step came on the late afternoon of Sunday, November 14, 1965. There was a huge battle raging on a small clearing in the Ia Drang Valley codenamed Landing Zone X-Ray. LtCol Hal Moore and 450 men of the 1st Battalion, 7th U. S. Cavalry were fighting for their lives against an enemy force of about 2,000 well-trained North Vietnamese regular Army soldiers. I had flown over the battlefield - trying desperately to get there - but we were waved off because the landing zone was too hot.

Now I was in Landing Zone Falcon, five miles distant, where the 105mm Howitzer batteries were pouring out fire to stave off the enemy at X-Ray. There were half dozen other reporters hanging around, trying, like me, to find a ride to the battle. No one had any luck until I stumbled upon Captain Gregg Dillon, Hal Moore’s operations officer. I told him my sad story. Gregg said he would be flying into X-Ray with two Huey helicopters full of ammunition and water as soon as it got dark. I begged to join him. He said he couldn’t make that decision; it would be up to Colonel Moore.

Dillon quickly got Moore on the radio and told him of his plans. He added: Oh yeah. There’s that reporter Galloway who wants to come with me. I will never forget Hal Moore’s reply: If he is crazy enough to want to come in here, and you’ve got room, bring him along.

All I had to do then was hide out for a couple hours until my colleagues, including Pete Arnett of the Associated Press, got tired and caught a chopper back to Camp Holloway for the night. Mission accomplished, and I was about to take that step—one step aboard a helicopter bound for hell—that would change my life.

I made it safely into LZ Xray, got a little briefing from Colonel Moore, then I sat back against a small tree and remained awake all night long as the artillery whistled over…and Puff the Magic Dragon dropped flares and strafed the moun-tainsides…and the enemy probed the outer perimeter on occasion.

The next morning, about ten minutes before seven as I was once more congratulating myself on having an exclusive front row seat at the biggest battle of the war, all hell broke loose. Two battalions of enemy attacked the thinly held lines of Charlie Company. One hundred of us versus about a thousand of them. The command post was right behind the Charlie Company lines, so everything the enemy fired which did not take effect passed right through the command post.

There was a fellow who got rich a few years ago writing a book he titled: Everything I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Well, I have to tell you that everything I need to know to I learned in combat. And the biggest lesson of all was about to be taught to me. The fire was intense. The noise was loud beyond imagining. I was flat on my belly, feathering out at the edges, when I felt a thump in my ribs. I very carefully turned my head to see what it was. What it was, was a size 12 combat boot on the foot of Sergeant Major Basil L. Plumley—a bear of a man, 6 feet 2 inches tall, out of West Virginia. He bent at the waist and shouted so I could hear him over the din of battle. What he said was this: Can’t take no pictures laying there on the ground, Sonny.

I thought about that a moment. He was right, of course. Later, I would learn that sergeants major are always right. I also thought that it looked like we might all go down here this fine hot morning; and if I was going down, I would sooner take mine standing up alongside a man like the sergeant major. So, like a fool, I got up.

The sergeant major, who was getting his feet wet in his third war, just hated to see any man not doing his job, even a civilian media puke with a camera. I got up and started doing my job, and the fear left me. I learned a valuable lesson in that moment.

On that battlefield I met many remarkable men—officers, non coms, and enlisted men. I learned something from all of them. I want to tell you a story about just one of those men, a platoon leader 2nd lieutenant in Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion 7th Cavalry named Rick Rescorla.

Rick was an Englishman, a native of Cornwall. he was big, tough, cocky. he had served as a London policeman, and then in the British army in Cyprus, and in the territorials in Rhodesia fighting guerrillas. All that before he came to America to join our army and help us fight the communists in Vietnam. Rick was first in his class in everything he did. He sailed through officer candidate school and got his lieutenant bars, before heading to Vietnam with the 1st Cavalry Division Airmobile.

On the field at LZ Xray, his company took over the lines of Charlie Company 1st Battalion after it was virtually wiped out on the 2nd morning of battle. Rick and his company commander, Myron Diduryk, a native of the Ukraine, had time to study their positions. They had the men move in to shorten their lines, then dig deep, three-man foxholes. Then they had them go out and cut the tall grass to clear fields of fire. They set out booby traps and intruder signals. They had the artillery liaison, Lt. Bill Lund, register his fires up, down, and sideways on that field in front of them.

Then they waited through a long scary night for the enemy they knew was coming. Rick Rescorla moved from hole to hole reassuring his troops. In the wee hours he sang to them, sang for them the old songs of the Zulu wars, the old Welsh mining songs. He gave them heart.

Early in the morning, the enemy sent a battalion back to smash through the weakened American line, thinking the remnants of Charlie Company were still clinging to their positions. Instead, they ran into Bravo Company 2/7 Cav. Three times they tried, and three times they failed. When they left, they left behind the bodies of several hundred of their best. Bravo Company had suffered precisely six men lightly wounded.

Rick Rescorla earned a Silver Star for that day’s work. He soldiered on for a full one-year tour, then came home to America. He took the oath of citizenship, and on that day America gained one of the finest. Rick went to law school, he taught at university for a few years, stayed on in the Army Reserve and rose to the rank of colonel.

Some years later, he went to New York and signed on as chief of security for Morgan Stanley brokers. Three thousand employees on 22 stories of World Trade Tower Two.

In 1993, Rick was a hero of the first terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. He was the last man out of the building, leaving only after he had gone floor by floor making sure every one of his people were gone. The next week, Rick went to his bosses and told them: This building was a target last week. It will be a target again. Most of our workers live in New Jersey. Why not move to New Jersey and build a low-rise, highly secure headquarters? The answer was that Morgan Stanley had a longterm lease at the Trade Center. OK, Rick said, then I want the time and money it takes to conduct regular emergency evacuation drills. Eventually, he got what he wanted, even though folks there laughed and called them “Rick’s fire drills.”

On September 11, 2001, when that first plane hit the first of the Twin Towers, the Port Authority squawkboxes in Tower Two urged everyone to remain at their desks, that they were safe, no need to panic. Rick took one look at the window at that terrible sight across the way and answered: bullshit! He grabbed his bullhorn and made his way, floor by floor, ordering Morgan Stanley’s people to evacuate immediately. He saw them on their way, calming them by singing. He sang “God Bless America”; he sang some of the old Zulu war songs; he sang some of the Welsh mining songs.

Rick Rescorla got all but five Morgan Stanley employees out of that building safely. He went back up to make sure it was clear and that was when it fell down. We lost a good friend that day. America lost a true son that day. But three thousand other Americans were saved.

Think about that. Think about the power of one man to make a difference by his life, with his life. Oh, yes. One more thing. Three years before 9/11, Rick Rescorla was diagnosed with terminal cancer. The docs told him he had perhaps only six months to live. Rick beat that death sentence so that he would be around when he was needed. With a little help from God.

Now I want to tell you about some of those lessons in leadership I learned at Landing Zone X-Ray from my captain in battle and my best friend, Hal Moore.

One important lesson came when an Air Force F100 Super Sabre unloaded two cans of napalm right in the middle of our perimeter, not more than 20 meters from where the command group was sitting behind a big termite hill. The napalm missed us but it caught three men of an engineer detachment full force. When the fire died down a bit I jumped up and ran into the still burning grass to help bring out the terribly burned men. A medic named Tommy Burlile jumped up with me and as he ran he was shot in the head and died minutes later. I will never understand why the sniper shot Tommy and not me.

When I came back to the command post, I saw the Air Force liaison officer, Lt. Charlie Hastings, standing before Colonel Moore. Hastings looked like death itself, his head bowed and tears on his cheeks. He waited to be judged for the misplaced airstrike. Hal Moore gripped his shoulder hard, looked him in the eyes, and said: Never mind that one, Charlie. You been saving our lives all morning. Just keep ’em coming!

He cut right to the heart of the matter. What mattered most at that moment was to keep that lifesaving ring of fire coming. There would be time enough afterward to mourn those poor boys who were caught in the fire, time enough to mourn every man who fell in that battle and all the other battles that followed.

I kept a close eye peeled on Hal Moore’s actions. I feared that we might be overrun, that we might go down, and I watched his face for a sign that he believed the same. I saw no such sign. He radiated competence and confidence. He conducted himself as if he had no doubt whatsoever that he was going to defeat this enemy and win this battle.

Later I would learn that this was Hal Moore’s First Lesson: A commander must exhibit his determination to prevail no matter what the odds or how desperate the situation. He must have and display the will to win by his actions, his words, his tone of voice on the radio and face to face; his appearance, his demeanor, his countenance, the look in his eyes. No fear! Ignore the noise, dust, explosions, screams, yells, even the dead lying around him. Fear is contagious. Never let it spread.

As I watched, I noticed something else. Every now and then, the Colonel—who was constantly aware of everything going on around him and on that battlefield—would seem to space out, seem to go to another place. Later I asked him what that was all about.

Lesson Number Two: In a crisis situation, every so often withdraw within yourself and ask yourself two questions: What am I doing that I should NOT be doing in this situation? And, What am I not doing that I should be doing to influence the situation in my favor? By asking and answering those questions frequently, Hal Moore found he could begin to shape the battle, he could begin gaining an edge on the enemy commander.

Hal Moore’s first principle of leadership is simple: Three strikes and you’re not out! The corollary principle which is inter-reactive with that one is: There is always one more thing you can do to influence any situation in your favor. And after that, one more. And after that, one more.

And his final principle: Trust your instincts! Your instincts are the product of your education, training, reading, personality, and experience. Trust those instincts. When seconds count, instincts and decisiveness come into play. In critical,
fast-moving situations the leader must act swiftly, impart confidence to all around him, and never second-guess a decision. In the process, you cannot stand around slack-jawed when you are hit with the proverbial sack full of crap. Face up to the facts, deal with them, and Move On!

I submit to you that if Lt. Col. Hal Moore had been anything but the superb leader he was and is, America’s first major battle in Vietnam would have been a defeat. We would all have died in that remote river valley in those terrible November days 37 years ago. You can take his words, and his principles and laws of leadership to the bank.

I know most of you have studied leadership, have read those nifty books that teach you how to be a three-minute manager, or how to manage like Genghis Khan or Atilla the Hun. But I want to give you a run-through of the basic lessons I learned in combat. They will stand you in good stead in any walk of life:

— Always put your people first.
— Loyalty should flow down first; then it will come back up multiplied ten-fold.
— Lead your group on a search for excellence in everything. Neither give nor accept 2nd place trophies.
— Know that morale often depends on very small things.
— Respect every person’s dignity. Always!
— Always be ready to fight for your people.
— Lead by example.
— Reward performance.
— Counsel and discipline people in private. Do not humiliate them in public.

I would like to share with you a few other simple but important principles of leadership distilled by my friend and former employer, General Colin Powell, during his long service to our country.

— The day people stop bringing you their problems is the day you have stopped leading them. Open your door and encourage folks to come in with their ideas and opinions. Let them argue with you. The people in the field, in the trenches, in the boats, are closest to the problem and that is where real wisdom lies.

— Share the power. Plans don’t accomplish the work; people get things done. Immerse yourself in the goal of creating an environment where the best, the brightest, the most creative are attracted, retained, and unleashed.

— Never neglect details. Good leaders delegate and empower others liberally—but they pay attention to the details. Believe in power down, but check up to make certain the power is being used to get the job done.

— The leader in the field is always right and the rear echelon wrong, unless proved otherwise. Shift power and accountability to the folks who are bringing in the beans, not the ones who are counting or analyzing them.

I count myself among the most fortunate of men, fortunate that Hal Moore was courageous enough to allow a reporter to come sit beside him and watch him in command in the biggest, bloodiest battle of a war. Fortunate that Hal Moore and I have shared a half a lifetime of close friendship. Fortunate that that friendship not only survived but was strengthened by the act of co-authoring a book. Fortunate that none of the million or so bullets fired in my direction during that battle, and scores of other battles, ever so much as scratched me. Fortunate, too, that in researching our book I met and became friends with Karen Metsker, who is now Karen Metsker Galloway.

You are looking at one very lucky fellow.

Thank you. God bless you and God bless these United States.

Resources:

We Were Soldiers (Widescreen Edition)

We were Soldiers Once...And Young: Ia Drang--The Battle That Changed The War In Vietnam

Ia Drang Veterans Panel - Part 1 from the American Veterans Center

Hal Moore on Wikipedia

LZ X-Ray

The Richard C. Rescorla Memorial Foundation

Marine Corps Professional Reading List