Lasting Pain, Minimal Punishment
'Americans
don't do things like this,' an officer thought when he learned of three
villagers' deaths. His shock grew when the soldier convicted continued
to serve.
By Deborah Nelson and Nick Turse
Special to The Times
August 20, 2006
BINH DINH PROVINCE, Vietnam — On the morning of Feb. 25, 1969, Platoon
Sgt. Roy E. Bumgarner Jr. led a five-man team on a reconnaissance
patrol that took them into a rolling landscape of rice fields.
The
soldiers crossed paths with an irrigation worker and two teenage boys
tending ducklings. The boys carried only bamboo cages and herding
sticks, the irrigation worker a hoe.
Bumgarner detained the
three Vietnamese and marched them to a secluded spot, where he and one
of his men opened fire. Then they searched the bodies, removing
identification papers, a watch and a wedding ring.
Next, Bumgarner dragged the bodies close together and told the other
soldier to detonate a grenade near the heads.
Afterward, Bumgarner reported that three enemy fighters had been killed
in action and led his team back to their base.
The
incident, and others detailed in declassified Army records, show how a
violent minority within the 173rd Airborne Brigade abused Vietnamese
citizens with little or no fear of punishment.
A military court
convicted Bumgarner of manslaughter, reduced his rank and cut his pay.
But he served no prison time for the killings. He remained in Vietnam
and, approximately six months later, reenlisted for another tour.
Troubled Past
Bumgarner,
who remained in the Army until 1981 and died last year, was a
bigger-than-life figure at the 173rd Airborne base near the South China
Sea.
He had spent 10 troubled years in the Marines before
joining the Army. Marine records show that he had been busted down in
rank, court-martialed and served brief periods of confinement at
California's Camp Pendleton, in the Philippines and in Japan.
Records
indicate that in the Army, he pleaded guilty to assault and disorderly
conduct in 1961 and was sentenced to three months' confinement. Four
years later, he went to Vietnam. There, he earned a reputation as a
talented and prolific killer with a competitive zeal for boosting his
personal body count.
Anguish and Fury
The news
reached Huynh Thi Nay as she walked home from market that morning. A
neighbor told her to hurry — that U.S. soldiers had detained two
duck-herders and an irrigation worker outside the hamlet.
"I
dropped my carrying basket," Huynh said in a recent interview in Giao
Hoi 2 Hamlet. Speaking through an interpreter, she said she raced down
a footpath through the paddies to where she knew her 17-year-old son,
Pham Tho, would be.
"When I reached there, I found a pair of
bamboo cages … with a flock of young ducks on one side," she said. "I
called out 'Tho, Tho,' about three times, but no one replied."
She
ran on until she reached a jackfruit tree, where she spotted the
teenager's conical hat perched in a branch. His stick and a hoe lay
nearby.
The bodies of her son and his two companions were laid
out like spokes of a wheel with the feet pointed outward, the bodies
riddled with bullets and the heads blown off, according to Army records.
"It
became as dark as night. My tears overflowed in both eyes," said Huynh,
now 77. "I rushed back and informed the community here. I was running
back, crying all the way. My eyes were full of tears, so I could not
see my way."
Phan Thi Dan, widow of the irrigation worker, said
she handed him her wedding ring for safekeeping when he left for the
rice fields that morning. The couple had sold a pig to pay for the
ring, and she didn't want to lose it in the pond where she fished for
shrimp for their ducks.
An hour or two later, she heard "the
rattling sounds of bullets, then one big explosion sound — boom," she
said through an interpreter. Not long after, a friend ran to her,
shouting that the Americans had shot her husband, Nguyen Dinh, 41.
Phan, now 79, remembers standing frozen for a moment, fishing net in
hand. She says she fainted at the sight of the bodies.
When
a U.S. Army investigator arrived with a Vietnamese interpreter, Phan
picked up rocks to throw at the American. The interpreter stopped her.
"When I get flashbacks, that fit of fury still arises in me," she said.
A Different Account
Bumgarner told an Army investigator that his platoon had fired at
the Vietnamese because they were running.
"Before
we approached the bodies, we threw about 4 or 5 frags at them just to
be on the safe side," he said, according to the investigator's notes,
referring to fragmentation grenades. Bumgarner said that a search of
the bodies turned up no personal effects, but that he and his soldiers
recovered a grenade, a rocket and a mortar round nearby.
Spc. 4
James C. Rodarte, one of Bumgarner's men, told a different story. In a
sworn statement, he said the Vietnamese were unarmed and were not
running.
He said he did not obey Bumgarner's order to shoot the
three civilians, but instead fired into the air and the ground. The
victims were dead when he dropped the grenade near their heads, Rodarte
said.
Bumgarner pulled several weapons out of a carrying case and planted
them near the bodies, Rodarte said.
"He
said not to say anything other than that we made contact and saw them
running, and fired on them," Rodarte said. "He said don't make a
statement, that we had everybody on our side and we could get out of
it."
Rodarte was wearing Phan's wedding ring when the
investigator interviewed him. He said he kept it, along with a watch
that belonged to Pham Tho. Rodarte recently declined to answer The
Times' questions.
The two soldiers were court-martialed on charges of premeditated
murder.
Rodarte, then 20, was acquitted. Bumgarner, then 38, was convicted of
manslaughter.
The
judge reduced his rank to private and ordered him to forfeit $97 a
month in pay for two years. The period later was reduced to six months.
Official Explanation
On
March 31, 1972, Peter Berenbak opened the New York Times to find a
photo of Bumgarner, his arm around a Vietnamese child, accompanying a
feature article about Americans who considered Vietnam their home.
He fired off a letter to the editor.
"Sgt.
Bumgarner is a convicted murderer," he wrote. "So I feel a
responsibility to speak for Sgt. Bumgarner's victims and ask the Army
why this man is still in Vietnam?"
Berenbak, now 62 and a sales
executive in New Jersey, was serving in a civil affairs unit at the
same base as the 173rd Airborne when the killings occurred. He was sent
to the hamlet and saw the bodies lying on a poncho liner, awaiting
transport to the base, he said in a recent interview.
"I can
still see the old man insisting that the Americans killed them, and
still remember my initial reaction: 'No, Americans don't do things like
this.' "
Berenbak sent a copy of his letter to the editor to
then-Rep. Peter Frelinghuysen Jr. (R-N.J.), who forwarded it to the
office of the secretary of the Army, requesting an explanation.
Col.
Murray Williams, deputy director of discipline and drug policies,
replied on April 21, 1972. He noted that the Army needed infantrymen in
Vietnam, and Bumgarner had volunteered.
"The type of
court-martial or the offense for which he was court-martialed does not
automatically restrict his eligibility for reenlistment," Williams
wrote. "Thus, Sgt. Bumgarner, although convicted by a court-martial,
for which he paid a debt, is contributing positively in his chosen
profession."
Times researcher Janet Lundblad contributed to this
report.
Copyright 2006 Los Angeles Times