After
destroying one of two fleeing sampans in the Mekong Delta of
South Vietnam on 31 October 1966, Patrol Officer BM1 James E. Williams
in PBR-105 and the sister boat PBR-99 sped off in pursuit of the second
sampan. But this target ducked into a narrow rivulet too small for the
PBR's to follow.
Williams,
who knew the area well from months of patrols, directed his two boats
in a high-speed detour to a spot he knew the fleeing sampan would
eventually emerge. Both threaded an alternative channel too narrow for
the boats to reverse course. At nearly 35 knots they roared up the
twisting passage--the heavily-jungled bank passing in a green blur.
Then as they rounded a bend to an area of more open water, to the
surprise of all aboard, they stumbled into a major staging area for the
North Vietnamese Army. Thirty to forty sampans were crossing the
channel, each loaded to the gunwales with NVA troops and supplies. The
enemy was equally surprised and sprang to their guns. Along the shore
the familiar "thonk" of mortars could be heard. Williams had no choice
but to gun his engines straight at the enemy! Tracers streaked across
the water. Williams ran his boat directly at several sampans, splitting
them in half under the sharp bow of his rocketing speedboat. The PBR's
twisted and jinked, blazed their weapons, and spilled hundreds of dead
and dying NVA troops into the water. The speed and maneuverability of
the Americans kept them ahead of the enemy return fire. They blasted
through the enemy formation and back into the narrow channel beyond.
Momentarily safe, the PBR's sped onward.
Williams called in Navy helicopter air support, but as his speedboats
rounded another bend they found themselves smack in the middle of a
second staging area as big as the first! Again the narrow channel
determined their fate, and both PBR's sped boldly at the enemy. For a
second time their machine guns blazed. For a second time splinters flew
from enemy sampans and NVA soldiers spilled into the water. And for a
second time the two American gunboats sliced through the enemy,
blasting and ramming as they went. Secondary explosions from several of
the larger junks confirmed Williams' suspicion that they were
ammunition and supply vessels.
Overhead
the Navy "Seawolf" gunships riddled the enemy, but rather than stand
safely off Williams turned back. For the next three hours PBR's-105 and
99 cut through the assemblage, engaging shore guns and surface craft in
a confusing tempest of gunfire. When the smoke finally cleared
Williams' boats had destroyed over 65 sampans, killed 1000-1200 enemy
troops, and disrupted a major marshalling of NVA forces. For his
dedication and valor this day, Williams was awarded the Medal of Honor.
Despite
three hours of intense combat, Williams' crew received only two
casualties--one gunner was shot through the wrist, and Williams himself
was wounded by shrapnel.
James E. Williams continued his noteworthy service in River Squadron 5 into 1967. For a subsequent enemy engagement in January 1967 he was awarded the Navy Cross. And for risking his personal safety in rescuing a shipmate trapped in a sinking barge, he was awarded the Navy and Marine Corps Medal. Williams' numerous other awards include two Purple Hearts. BM1 Williams transferred to the Fleet Reserve in April 1967 and returned to his native South Carolina. He was promoted to Honorary Chief in 1977. He passed away in 1999, on 13 October (the Navy's Birthday). BMC Williams remains today the most decorated enlisted sailor in the history of the US Navy. On December 11th, 2004, the Navy commissioned our newest Arleigh Burke destroyer, USS James E. Williams (DDG-95) in a ceremony in Charleston, South Carolina. It is a fitting tribute to this American hero. Self-effacing and humble until the end; and although his exploits in Vietnam were legendary, he was quick to admonish anyone who wanted to talk about his awards. “You gotta stop and think about your shipmates," he said in an interview with the Navy's All Hands Magazine in 1998. "That's what makes you a great person and a great leader - taking care of each other." He couldn’t have said it any better and the Navy could not have paid tribute to a finer sailor. All the best |