I was the CSM of 2-327th Infantry "No Slack" in OIF 1. I went from a PSG in A 2-327th to CSM of the Battalion. thank you for keeping the heritage of "No Slack" alive.

God Bless

No Slack 7

"NO SLACK" I'm excited a group of reenactors in the United Kingdom has selected the 327th Infantry in the Vietnam War as their unit. It's great you have chosen to keep the history alive and honor those who served, especially the indivudals who were wounded or lost their lives. It was an especially difficult war at an even more difficult time. The 237th Infantry served it's country well.

Thank you. Jim B Green, 1st Platoon, Alpha Company, 2nd of the 327th Infantry, 101st Airborne Division (Air Mobile), Republic of Vietnam, 1971. "NO SLACK"

Nice web site. Your pics are very authenthentic. You just need a little more dirt and grime on you. Sometimes resupply wasn't very regular, occaisionally we would have to wear the same fatigues for weeks. Showers were even rarer than clean clothes.

Squad leader in A Co. 2/327 RVN, 1970

Welcome Brothers in Arms, sorry to say that I wasn't in 2/327..............but I was in 1/327. While we paratroopers in 1/327 did not wear flak jackets, maybe they did in 2/327. With all the weight we humped in the boonies a flak jacket was not part of the equipment.

Thank You for doing a good job and keeping the history of 327 alive and well. God Bless and God Speed

D 1/327 Abn Inf

Greetings, Enjoyed your site except for the reenactment photos. Inaccurate at best. I was with the 2nd Platoon B2/327th 101st from 5/67 until I was wounded 1/68. Never saw a flack vest my entire time there, As the man said we were humping the mountains most of the time and even if we had them we would have left them behind. Weight was so much an issue that we would sort through our c rations and take the lighter cans to reduce weight. You have a photo of an RTO with smoke grenades strapped to the back of the radio. This was considered a bad practice and was rarely done. The jungle would grab onto those and pull you back on your ass or pull the pin and light your ass up. Those guys are way to clean, the only way to get a new shirt or pants was to have the old one rot off. Most guys had a towel around their neck to wipe the sweat away. We had to take more then the safe amount of salt pills to do our job. Our job at that time was to walk the mountains and look for NVA basecamps. Once we found them we would call in artillery. Since we mostly operated in platoon size strength (combat platoon was usually about 25 to 30 guys) we were almost always outnumbered. Only time I saw vehicles were when we might get a few rare days in the rear. I do thank you for saluting the 2/327th. Steve Burks

we departed ft. campbell in june 1965, in january 1966, the 2nd bn. went to tuy hoa and remained thereuntil june 1966. then we were at trung loung. i left the the unit in june 1966 for the states. i know ssg. burke, we attended a reunion at ft campbell a few years ago for an award for the unit by the president. i read his comments, and everything he says is true. we wore the same fatigues for six months, no boots, we were vagabonds.we had no back packs just a small back bagattached to your web gear. each man carried a mortar round, 100rds of m60 ammo, one weeks rations.5-6 bandoleers of ammo and we only had one canteen.

C Co. 2/327 July 66 - Jun 67 11B2P Anyone remember me? I was the guy that played Taps For SGM Benson & other troopers with a captured bugle in Duc Pho .(May or june 1967.)

Nice site and I wish you well with your re-enactments. I served with D and E companies, 2/327th in 1968-69 time period.

i was with the 1st platoon of a company, 2nd/327th. remember cpt pepper,m the co, and lt. norm(fretwell) platoon leader. was with the platoon from april to oct, 1967. black panther our brigade commamder. anyone wish to reconnect, please feel free to email me. we're all in this together. just remember , you may sometimes feel alone from the war, but we are all brothers of the war. john russell jlruss50@sbcglobal.net any buckeyes out there, would like to hear from you. i'm from ironton, ohio

C CO. 2-327.......JUNE 67-68.........2ND PLATOON WITH SGT HARPER..

NICE TO BE HOME.......IN BOSTON, MASS

NICE TO GATHER IN CROSSVILLE TENN....WITH MY AIRBORNE BROTHERS....

NO SLACK

I served with A Company 2/B 327th. June of 1966.

Fisherman story

Sorry about that.

Within the first 72 hours in Vietnam I had made my first kill. Over half of my company was wiped out. And I was scared. Had it not been for the leadership and inspiration of my commanding officer, I would never have made it. After several weeks, life in the jungle fell into a pattern. I was befriended by a new platoon leader and went on to survive booby traps, helicopter crashes, numerous firefights; one of which was truly a miracle.

It was the sixth month of the year1966, in Chinese astrology. {‘The Year of the Fire Horse’}

Which meant, bad luck in general, any way you cut it.

Our company strength that morning was 125 men and save for about 80 percent who were new replacements these were seasoned warriors accustomed to stalking Charlie by night in any terrain.

However this search and destroy was an act of sweet revenge for the losses we took in the hamlet of Trung Luong in the fields of bamboo earlier. It was there our company walked into a nest of 3500 hard core V.C. It was a 48 hour siege, and cost our company 54 men. We had faced the supreme test of a United States rifle company in the Vietnam War. Why we were not overrun is still a mystery to me.

This time we had the element of surprise and wanted payback big time. We started out on this patrol in single file, wading across the rice paddies heading to the coast loaded for bear. Each man humped 300 M-16 rounds, 4 frag grenades, 4 smoke grenades, 5 canteens of water, 10 sandbags, 1 claymore mine, 3 days rations, 1 sleeping roll and our personal equipment bag. That worked out to be 70 pounds extra and a 130 degree day to come.

So off we go on a mission of certain death and destruction. We had no illusions about our objective.

With all our firepower, being paratroopers, wearing the Screaming Eagle patches on our shoulders and sliver wings on our chest, we foolishly believed this morning that we were Gods. It took hours of creeping, crawling, slithering, stealthy walking to get into our battle attack position. There was still around ten minutes before first light. Peeking up over the sandbar we were laying behind, I could make out a fishing boat between us and the sleepy coast village we were soon to light up like a Disneyland firework exhibition. Our orders were to sweep the entire area and kill everyone and everything period. If any V.C. escaped, they would be cut down by the ROC Korean units on our left flank. If they ran to the north, they’d meet their fate with elements of our own battalion, set waiting in ambush for them. Word came down the line to wait for the C.O.’s signal. We were all now suspended in the equinox zone. That special time between dark and light. The twilight zone.

The time came and we all rose to our feet, with one motion, we flicked the safeties off our weapons and faced the kill zone. All of a sudden, something unexpected happened. Murphy’s Law! Just as we were about to attack, an image appeared before our eyes. From behind the boat, halfway between us and our objective, a boy? A man? Charlie? All 125 of us instantly opened fire. Hell broke lose. The fusillade of 2500 rounds turned into a giant ball of fire which came from our line of attack, to the same place in front of us. The roar of our weapons was deafening. All of our bullets hit around the same place; the boat? The man? The ghost? Then the entire image disappeared into a cloud of smoke, dust and sand. It seamed that time stood still.. You could hear the sound of the beach we were standing on take a breath. Then silence. We were frozen in place. As the cloud of smoke settled down around the boat, we could make out an image of a man, a fisherman unscathed, holding what was left of his net. He was standing up straight, looking right at us in disbelief. Not one bullet hit him. In a flash we came back to reality. Someone yelled, “Charge! Open fire!” We all snapped out of it and before one could say ‘what the” we were reloaded and moving forward, firing our weapons past the lucky son-of-a-bitch. As we came abreast of this fisherman one of the paratroopers passing by him said, “Sorry about that.”

There it is. That statement coming from the oblique, for some crazy reason covered this whole God Damned war.

.(The indifference in chaos)

SERVED WITH C COMPANY 2 327 INFANTRY JUNE 67 TO JUNE 68

MADE IT BACK TO BRAGG. 1ST 504 ,,, AND THEN BACK HOME TO BOSTON , MASS.

WELCOME HOME TO ALL MY AIRBORNE BROTHERS.........