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The Massacre at My Lai
By Central Comet
March 16, 1968
Lt. Calley and his platoon were crouching in the rice paddies. Calley and his platoon of thirty-two were to destroy the “enemy”, poison wells, burn thatched houses, destroy brick houses via explosives. Calley looked back at his men. They were scared. He looked up in the blue sky. No helicopter. The second platoon wouldn’t be through for another two hours. Calley held his M16 in his hands. Viet Cong were hiding in that village, Calley was sure of it. He gave his motion to move in. The men exited the rice paddy and walked across a long patch of grass between two buildings. In the distance a child screamed something. Another woman dropped a bucket of water and ran into her thatched home. Calley was used to scaring people. After they had walked across the grass, they entered into the plaza. A well sat directly in the middle. The town was built in a large circle the church was largest building. There, families worked and cooked foods while others were returning from the fields with crop. The platoon was all together, awaiting Calley’s orders.
“Meadlo, get up here,” Calley said, not taking his eyes off the people.
Captain Meadlo ran from the back of the group and approached Calley.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” Meadlo asked.
“Captain, take these men gather the villagers in the center of the plaza. Begin your routine interrogation. Have men search the homes as well,” Calley said.
“Yes sir,” he said. Meadlo turned to the men. You heard him. I want twelve men to go around the back of the village and bring people in from the fields. Then, I want ten men to go around the left side of the plaza, while I take the others and go around the right. Don’t let anyone go. I don’t care who you are. Get into groups,” Meadlo commanded.
In a matter of minutes, the men had broken up and moving into there places. Women and children came screaming into the plaza. Calley smiled as he ran with Meadlo’s group into the plaza. Soldiers entered buildings and homes. Meadlo ordered the men to get all 450 villagers, including women and children, to get on their knees and put their hands behind their head. People were thrown from their homes and hitting the ground in a hard thump. Calley and Meadlo looked at the group of people. People were crying, men women and children. The platoon circled the crowd of people.
It was silent after ten minutes or so. Calley yelled out, “VC, where are they?”
An elderly man spoke first. “No VC!”
Others joined in, and soon, the crowd was chanting “No VC!”
Calley was frustrated. “Shut up! Shut up, you damn sewer rats! Bull shit! VC, where are they!?”
Hush swept over the crowd again. A man in the back of the group was getting nervous, Calley noticed him. He was balling like a baby, Calley thought. The man, out of no where, got up and sprinted into the paddies. The crowd cheered him on.
Calley turned to the private next to him and said, “Kill that man.”
The private nodded and steadied his M16. With the pull of the trigger, the man was gone in a puff of red. He had only ran 30 yards.
The crowd screamed in horror.
Calley was furious. His rage was building up. He had not known, even by himself, he was a violent man, but when he found himself grabbing an elderly man from the crowd, he knew. The old man kicked and yelled as the crowd watched Calley. He threw the old man over the well. Three or four seconds passed before he hit the water below. Calley screamed at the group, who are now silent, “VC, where are they!?” No one answered. Calley pulled a grenade from his vest and pulled the pin and dropped it into the well Calley sprinted the fifty yards to the group. The ground shook and a tower of fire and water plummeted from the well. People screamed. Another dead. Calley had just killed an innocent man, or was he. Calley had seen enough people die that he didn’t need to be told they were guilty. Every Vietnamese person should die.
Calley turned to Meadlo. “Captain, line up twenty women, in particular mothers, in front of the church, now!”
Meadlo and five other soldiers lined them up. Some fell to their knees and prayed while others just stood in silence.
After he did what he was told, Meadlo asked Calley, “Sir, what next?”
“You know what I want done with them,” Calley said, nodding to Meadlo’s M16.
Meadlo nodded. He and thirteen others went through the line of people, shooting them in the back of the heads. The blood-spattered church was the only thing standing after the gun fire. 20 women lay dead on the ground. Children and husbands cried in horror.
Calley smiled. He looked at the crying men and children.
Calley looked at Meadlo. “Have them men take the women and children to the east side of the village and herd them into the drainage ditch we saw coming in.”
“Yes sir,” Meadlo said.
That was when the second platoon commanded by Captain Medina walked through the same stretch of grass they did. That was when things broke out. The Vietnamese believed those were their rescuers. They all stood up and rampaged. That was when Medina and his men opened fire. Calley and the rest of his men scattered as blood sprayed from the dieing. Screams of pain echoed through the cool morning in Vietnam. Medina seized fire. His men did the same. Over all, thirty people were had been killed, a majority of children. Calley could hear choppers in the air, and approaching trucks. The remaining survivors would be slaughtered in a mater of hours.
Over the next twenty minutes, more G.I.’s came in, now totaling over 100 of them. They all broke the remaining 410 into small groups. Photographer Ronald Haeberle took pictures of the travesties that befell that innocent town. He watched as men raped women, fondling them, murdering them; shooting small children, taking their long-expected lives away.; slaughtering fathers and men, old and young. He was sick he was the only one who had stopped photographing after he witnessed Calley doing.
While helicopters circled above, screams and gunfire echoed in the distance, Calley and Meadlo, as well as four other G.I.’s partook in killing 50 civilians, mothers, fathers, kids, and grandparents, and babies. It was terrible. Meadlo and Calley herded them in the ditch like cattle. The six of them fired aimlessly into the crowd. One by one, they fell, screaming sometimes, and other times silent. Babies crying, kids screaming for their mommies to wake up, mothers trying to wake their dead children up. Calley wasn’t fazed at all. He continued firing. The firing stopped and Calley watched. At the end of the ditch, a child got up and ran. Calley looked at the other men. They were frozen. Meadlo had snapped. He had seen too much. Calley had decided no one was going to get the child, so he did he ran past the awe-struck men and chased the child down. That was when Haeberle saw what he knew would be the end of Calley’s career. Calley picked the child up by his arm, practically tossing him into the ditch with the other bullet-ridden dead. Calley broke the child’s nose with the end of his gun before putting a bullet to the back of the child’s head. Haeberle dropped his camera. He looked up at a hovering helicopter, seeing what he had just witnessed.
The pilot of the helicopter, Hugh Thompson, had three more choppers coming. He had watched the three platoons slaughter the people. He was going to stop it. He radioed the other choppers to land in the plaza. Hugh had the twelve men in his chopper try to save a few civilians. Hugh and a few others approached Calley, still brandishing his gun.
“Calley, what in gods name are you doing,” Hugh said, with tears forming in his eyes. He looked at the dead child.
“Finding the VC I was sent here for,” Calley said.
“Like hell you are! You’re slaughtering innocent civilians. That is a war crime, Bill! Stop or I’ll have to stop you,” Hugh screamed in Calley’s face.
“No you won’t. I have orders from Medina. He’s here, you want to see him?” Calley asked.
Behind Hugh, three more helicopters landed. Hugh turned from Calley. The men still held the five at bay. As Hugh was walking to he seen ten G.I.’s rallying up nine civilians in a row. They were praying to god for a deliverer of this horror. They got what they asked for. Hugh and two men stopped the G.I.’s. the two soldiers pointed their M16’s at the ten as Hugh got the civilians to a nearby empty helicopter. He loaded them up, and commanded the pilot to bring the people to a hospital. Hugh also asked for more men. With a nod of the head, Hugh had saved nine people. The thirty or so troops brought in by Hugh’s orders were told to open fire on anyone who was seen killing. Word spread fast. Soon the gun fire ended. 93 G.I.’s, including Calley, Meadlo, and Medina, were being held at gunfire while Hugh awaited for Major General Samuel Koster to give the orders to fly back to base. Huh and three platoons had stopped the massacre at My Lai.
Over all, 432 civilians were massacred in a mater of hours. Hugh Thompson turned in his wings because he doesn’t want to affiliate with a murderous military. Over the next four years, Lieutenant Calley was put on trial for a murder, not a war crime. Many of the G.I.’s present were convicted, while others met plea bargains. Calley was sentenced to life in prison in 1971. But, in 1974, a judge reviewed the conviction and Calley was released from prison, while the other convicted officers remained where they were. This shows an eerie resemblance to the mistreatment of Iraqi prisoners in prisons. Why did Calley get released in three years while the judge didn’t look over the other officers as well? We will never know.
Hugh Thompson honored in 30th anniversary commemoration for his heroism at My Lai. It was he who was able to save only twenty five civilians. If he were there sooner, he would have saved more. My Lai will be remembered as a mark in history, evidence showing that our military is unfit at times.
9/26/2004 10:40:09 AM
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