It was by sheer chance that Frank Cashmore had been given what became known as ‘the tractor job’. Along with 30 other members of the advance party of 2 SAS Squadron, he had arrived at Nui Dat, Vietnam on 7 February 1968 and had begun the process of in-country training and familiarisation before the rest of the squadron arrived on 27 February.
Cashmore, then 25 years old was a recently promoted patrol commander, and was preparing for his first patrol. His second-in-command of the patrol, Corporal Danny Wright was an experienced SAS soldier. Aged 28, he had joined SAS in 1960 and served as a patrol second-in-command in Borneo.
But the remainder of Cashmore’s patrol who joined him at Nui Dat on 27 February—Privates Kim McAlear (aged 19), Adrian Blacker (21) and David Elliott (22)—had only recently joined the SAS and had no operational experience. Blacker recalled that he and McAlear were still ‘quite naive’: to them it merely seemed as though they were preparing for an exercise, just as they had in Western Australia several weeks earlier.
Cashmore suddenly found himself joining his squadron commander, Major Brian Wade, for the short
Land Rover journey to Task Force headquarters where the Task Force commander, Brigadier Ron Hughes, had a special task for the SAS.
Cashmore and Wade were met by Hughes’ SO2 Operations, Major Ian MacLean, who described their mission. An aircraft from 161 (Independent) Recce Flight had reported sighting what appeared to be the tracks of a tractor and trailer across LZ Dampier. It was not known where the tractor had come from, but the French owner of the Courtenay rubber plantation had reported that his Fordson Major tractor had been stolen. It was thought that the tractor was being used to transport stores and ammunition from the more heavily populated area of the rubber plantations to the VC bases ANTI-TRACTOR MINE in the Hat Dich. The destruction of the tractor would seriously interfere with VC resupply activities and keep them on the defensive with a salutary reminder that they could not move with impunity in Phuoc Tuy Province. That the VC were sensitive to the security of the tractor was shown by in formation that the tractor might be escorted by 60 VC, 30 in the front and 30 in the rear.
Cashmore’s task was to destroy the tractor. Both Cashmore and the other patrol members later asserted that they were told that since the tractor was owned by a French firm, for political reasons they had to conduct a deniable operation; that is, there should be no indication that the Australians were involved. Wade and Hughes both denied that this was required. But Wade did instruct his men that they should make it appear as though the tractor and its cargo had exploded spontaneously; there should be no indication that the SAS was in the area.
The task presented considerable problems. First, they needed better information on the area. Cashmore obtained from 2 RAR good, recent aerial photographs of the Firestone Trail near to LZ Dampier. The second problem was the technique to be used to destroy the tractor. Wade had become familiar with the technique of ‘demolition ambush’ when he had attended a Special Warfare Course in the US, at Fort Bragg in 1965.
Given that the contents of the trailer and the size of the VC escort party were unknown, he saw demolition ambush as the only practical solution and briefed Cashmore accordingly. Cashmore selected Corporal Danny Wright to head the demolition team, and Corporal Dave Scheele joined the patrol as his assistant. A quiet, 28 year old Dutchman, Scheele had completed his National Service with the Dutch commandos, served with 2 RAR and been on operations with 2 SAS Squadron in Borneo.
Once the technique had been decided and the team selected, Wade, Cashmore, Wright and Scheele visited 1 Field Squadron Engineers to investigate using anti-tank mines. None were available in Vietnam and the engineers recommended that they use Beehive explosive charges. Beehives were shaped charges that stood on short legs. The shaped aspect of the charge concentrates the power of the explosion into a narrow point, making them ideal for cutting through steel or concrete. The engineer Squadron SergeantMajor (SSM), Warrant Officer Jack Turner, suggested they remove the legs of the Beehive charges and set them upside down. Once initiated the charges would punch holes right through the tractor and trailer into any explosives or weapons stored on the trailer. The engineers supplied four fifteen pound (6.8 kilogram) Beehive charges.
To counter the enemy force accompanying the tractor it was decided to set up four Claymore mines. The next problem was that the planners did not know what was on the trailer, and if it was packed with explosives they would not want to be too close when the demolition was initiated. Wade ordered that the SAS party had to be at least 100 metres from the explosion, so the explosion would have to be detonated by the weight of the tractor. But what if the tractor did not appear on the first night? The patrol would have to be prepared to remain in position for up to seven nights, and the charges would have to be expertly camouflaged to survive the scrutiny of any VC who might pass on foot during this period.
There was also a chance that an innocent Vietnamese Lambro or motor scooter might drive along the track, so the demolition device would have to be adjusted so that it could only be detonated by the heavy weight of the tractor. Wright and Scheele tackled the problem energetically and worked out a wiring diagram to detonate electrically the four Beehives and the four Claymores which would be sited to catch the flank protection escorts. The only thing missing was a suitable pressure plate to close the circuit when the target’s heaviest wheels were over it.
The SSM of 1 Field Squadron designed a switch made from a baking dish, four
Land Rover clutch springs (cut to compress with the weight of the main wheel of a Fordson Major tractor), an eighth of an inch (3mm) steel plate, twelve inches (30cm) by eighteen inches (46cm), and battery straps. The terminals were fixed to blocks of wood, one on the baking dish and the other on the steel plate. Two pounds (900 grams) of C4 explosive were taped underneath the baking dish to ensure the destruction of the switch itself. Cells from a disassembled 64 radio set battery were then placed in a beer can and an on/off switch, a self destruct switch and two cable connecting terminals were soldered onto the top. This device was constructed by members of the detachment of 152 Signals Squadron attached to the SAS Squadron.
Rehearsals were conducted day and night for three days until every move was perfected. McAlear and Blacker were to provide security to each flank while Wright and Scheele set up the demolitions. Communications between the sentries and the command group would be by URC 10 radios on 241 frequency. If enemy troops arrived unexpectedly the sentries would provide sufficient warning for the demolition team to hide until they had passed. It was soon apparent that they would have to carry a considerable weight and Wright decided to use only a single Don 10 wire as it would have to stretch up to 100 metres. Claymore leads of only 33 metres would require too many joins, creating more electrical resistance and thus a need for a larger ANTI-TRACTOR MINE 18 and heavier power source.
Meanwhile, Cashmore discussed the insertion of the patrol with the RAAF helicopter crews. Just as he was ready for his final briefing, Warrant Officer Turner arrived with one more suggestion: he was carrying an auger which he thought would be useful for digging the holes for the Beehive charges. It took some time to organise the load to be carried by the patrol. Since they had to remain in position for up to seven days they had to carry fourteen water bottles for each man, plus seven days’ rations. Then there were the demolitions: four Beehive charges, four Claymores, the pressure switch with its baking dish and steel plate, the batteries and the 100 metres of wire. In addition to their normal radio sets there were the three URC 10s. Each man also carried his usual weapon and ammunition.
Cashmore had the additional burden of the steel auger-1.5 metres long with a metre wide handle. It was one of the heaviest loads ever carried by an SAS patrol in Vietnam.
Soon after 9am on 17 March the six members of the patrol staggered across Kangaroo Pad and heaved themselves into the waiting Iroquois helicopter to head out the ambush site area. Dave Elliott was injured during the insertion landing due to the extraordinary weight of supplies and equipment he was carrying, and had to be evacuated back to base by the helicopter which had brought them into the landing zone.
The remaining members of the patrol moved off and soon came across a clear area 2 metres by 2 metres with a tied clump of grass in the centre. Suspecting that it had been mined by the VC, they turned north west. They had a further 500 metres to walk, but it was not until mid afternoon that they reached the Firestone Trail. After a short rest Cashmore and Wright crept forward to observe the track, striking it about 200 metres west of LZ Dampier.
Cashmore received his second shock for the day when he discovered that the tractor had not driven down the centre of the trail with one wheel in each rut, but had gone west with one wheel on the track and the other in the grass, and on its return journey had one wheel in the other rut. The Firestone Trail was 30 to 40 metres wide, the tractor was relatively small, and Cashmore believed that he could not risk placing the pressure plate in only one rut and the explosives between two of the three wheel tracks.
Covered by Wright, Cashmore stepped out onto the track and walked along it towards LZ Dampier as if he owned it, feeling as he said later, ‘like a spare prick at a wedding’. With one man on the track and the other covering from the jungle they moved along the track for about 100 metres until they came across a slight bend and discovered that in changing direction the tractor had cut the corner and for a short distance the wheels had been in both ruts. This was the spot for the ambush, and looking around, 50 metres to the north across the Firestone Trail, they found a large bomb crater they had earlier identified as possible cover for the patrol during the laying of the explosives.
That night the patrol moved down to the track to observe the night’s activities. At 11.20pm the bright red tractor and trailer appeared, moving west along the Firestone Trail, and remarkably, travelling with a single, centrally placed light blazing through the jungle. From a distance through the grass, it became clear that there was another advantage in planting the demolitions on a bend; the tractor’s light would sweep past any sign of the demolitions that had escaped camouflage.
At 1.45am the tractor returned, travelling towards the east, and at last, after a long day the patrol could crawl back into their LUP and sleep. Having timed the tractor’s movements Cashmore decided that they had sufficient information to mount the ambush on the following night, and they spent the next day resting and checking their equipment. Last light came at about 7pm and after waiting a further 20 minutes they moved down to the ambush site, knowing from the previous night’s experience that they had until 11.20pm to lay, camouflage and activate the system.
They crossed the Firestone Trail from south to north, carefully obliterating any trace they might have left. The two sentries prepared to move into position and before leaving the patrol they checked their radios; they were working, but only just. McAlear went west and Blacker, armed with a silenced Sterling sub-machine gun, moved east to a position from where he could observe across LZ Dampier. Once the sentries were in position the demolition team moved out onto the track and, in the absence of Elliott, Cashmore unpacked the demolition kits and passed them to the two demolition men.
Immediately there were problems. The auger that had been carried to dig in the Beehive would not penetrate the hard-caked mud of the track. They tried to dig the holes with their machetes, but again with little success. To make the task easier they cut about 25 millimeters of compressed paper from the top of the Beehives, but still they would not fit into the holes. Eventually they decided to use the central ridge of dried mud between the ruts to conceal the Beehives, but they still could not dig down far enough, and eventually they had to slightly build up the ridge.
With the demolitions laid and camouflaged it was now time to recall the sentries. They had barely returned to the central point when at 10.20pm they heard the tractor start up some distance away to the east. It was twenty minutes earlier than the previous night. The patrol did not panic but it was clear that time was becoming short. They connected the Claymores and began to lay the final 50 metres of cable through the grass to the bomb crater. With the tractor approaching they realised that they would not have time to connect the wires and withdraw the 100 metres buffer distance, so they decided to connect the power source and then remain in the bomb crater.
While the patrol had been running the cable from the demolitions to the bomb crater Frank Cashmore had taken a compass fix on a branch sticking up above the skyline. Now, as the rest of the patrol huddled in the bomb crater, he listened to the tractor, trying to determine when it was in line with the compass bearing. By now it was 11.10pm and it seemed that the tractor should have reached the pressure plate. Cursing to himself Cashmore stood up. Immediately above the kunai he could see the single light of the tractor advancing along the trail.
It was impossible to see if anyone was walking nearby as the grass was over waist height and he was standing in the crater. Just as he was convinced that they had failed there was a huge explosion. ‘It was the most horrific explosion I have ever witnessed in my military career’, said Cashmore. ‘It blew me arse over head backwards. Four giant orange flames went up into the sky, plus four Claymores. It was just unbelievable.’ Adrian Blacker was also watching the track. To him the tractor with its single light looked like a train approaching. ‘When the explosion went off it was almost like an old movie of a train wreck. For an instant the light flashed skywards before going out.’ The men flattened themselves against the bottom of the crater while great clumps of earth, tin and steel rained down.
Danny and Dave were ecstatic. ‘We’ve done it— magic’, thought Danny. After the tension and hard work of the last five days they had achieved their aim. Desperately Frank Cashmore tried to quieten the two demolition men. They lay there, weapons at the ready, not daring to move while from the trail there was the sound of moaning and four voices speaking excitedly in Vietnamese. Wright, who had attended a Vietnamese language course, thought that he heard one voice saying that they ought to go for help.
A little later they heard what sounded like someone collecting weapons and clearing the breeches in quite a professional manner. For all they knew the VC might be preparing to sweep through the area.
The patrol crawled out of the hole and withdrew about 20 metres to the treeline on the northern edge of the clearing. Until then there had been a light cloud cover, but now as they crawled towards the jungle the moon appeared and brightly illuminated the figures against the yellow grass.
To Blacker this was the most nerve-racking part of the whole operation. The jungle was too dense for silent night movement so they moved only about 50 metres north east away from the contact area, where, fatigued and drained, they crawled under a large bush in a semi-open patch. Cashmore felt like he had ‘been through a washing machine’. Some of them were too tired to remove their packs. They spent the night listening for the sounds of organised reaction; there was none.
At dawn they crawled out from beneath their protective bush, looked around for signs of enemy, then moved stealthily towards LZ Dampier, barely 150 metres away. As they approached the LZ, Blacker, who was leading, saw a lone VC, heavily bandaged, staggering across the open area. Mindful of their orders to avoid contact, the patrol went to ground, waited for a while, and when there was no more activity radioed Nui Dat that the mission had been successful and they wanted immediate extraction.
Back at Nui Dat the SAS squadron operations room telephoned No 9 Squadron RAAF. Within a few minutes the helicopters were in the air, and by 9.10am the SAS patrol had been lifted out of LZ Dampier. As the helicopter gained height they crossed the ambush site, only 200 hundred metres away. All Cashmore could see was ‘a hell of a mess with a big black hole’. The patrol had achieved the mission of stopping the supply vehicle and as a result of air-photographic interpretation they were credited with fifteen kills, but it must have been many more.
A VC defector connected with the unit operating the tractor gave a figure of 21.
The mission also showed the extent to which the SAS relied on the support of other units. 161 Recce Flight was involved at various stages: in locating the original tracks, conducting the reconnaissance for the patrol commander, photographing the aftermath and recovering the 75mm recoilless rifle. The engineers designed and built the pressure switch and provided the Beehives. No 9 Squadron RAAF, as always, inserted the patrol, returned to evacuate the injured soldier, and rapidly extracted the patrol following the ambush. It was a graphic demonstration of the fact that while the SAS demanded from each member of its small operational patrols a high degree of individual courage and initiative, those highly trained men still needed substantial outside support.
The tractor job was one of the SAS’s most outstanding patrols
Article compiled with extracts from “Phantoms of the Jungle” by David Horner
