Hugh Thompson, 62; Saved Civilians at My Lai

 

Hugh Thompson, an Army helicopter pilot who rescued Vietnamese civilians during the My Lai massacre, reported the killings to his superior officers in a rage over what  he had seen, testified at the inquires and received a commendation from the Army three decades later, died yesterday in Alexandria, La.  He was 62.

 

 

On March 16, 1968, Chief Warrant Officer Thompson and his two crewmen were flying on a reconnaissance mission over the South Vietnamese village of My Lai when they spotted the bodies of men, women and children strewn over the landscape.

Mr. Thompson landed twice in an effort to determine what was happening, finally coming to the realization that a massacre was taking place.  The second time, he touched down near a bunker in which a group of almost 10 civilians were being menaced by American troops.  Using hand signals, Mr. Thompson persuaded the Vietnamese to come out while ordering his gunner and his crew chief to shoot any American soldiers who opened fire on the civilians.  None did.

Mr. Thompson radioed for a helicopter gunship to evacuate the group, and then his crew chief, Glenn Andreotta, pulled a boy from a nearby irrigation ditch, and their helicopter flew him to safety. …

"They said I was screaming quite loud," he told US News & World Report in 2004.  "I threatened never to be a part of that.  It wasn't war.""

  He testified before Congress, a military inquiry and the court-martial of Lt. William L. Calley Jr., the platoon leader at My Lai, who was the only soldier to be convicted in the massacre.

When Mr. Thompson returned home, it seemed to him that he was viewed as the guilty party.

"I’d received death threats over the phone," he told the CBS News program "60 Minutes" in 2004.  "Dead animals on your porch, mutilated animals on your porch some mornings when you get up.  So I was not a good guy."

On March 6, 1998, the Army presented the Soldier's Medal…. The citation, bestowed in a ceremony at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, said the three crewmen landed "in the line of fire between American ground troops and fleeing Vietnamese civilians to  prevent their murder."

Through the years, he continued to speak out having been invited to West Point and other military installations to tell of the moral and legal obligations of soldiers in wartime…  "Don't do the right thing looking for a reward, because it might not come."

 

 - New York Times obituary

 

 

Forgotten heroes of My Lai receive honors

March 6, 1998 Web posted at: 3:28 p.m. EST (2028 GMT)

WASHINGTON (CNN) -- In a ceremony some people thought would never take place, American soldiers were honored at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial on Friday for trying to stop a massacre that symbolized, for many, the darkest hour for the U.S. military in the Vietnam War.

Former U.S. Army helicopter pilot Hugh Thompson and door gunner Lawrence Colburn received the prestigious Soldier's Medal for their efforts to halt the bloodshed at the My Lai massacre nearly 30 years ago.


Crewman Glenn Andreotta, who died in a helicopter crash three weeks after My Lai, was also honored.

One of the cruelest chapters in the long and painful history of U.S. involvement in Vietnam, the My Lai massacre to this day causes emotional reactions in veterans and anti-war activists alike. American troops on a search-and-destroy mission stormed My Lai on March 16, 1968, killing hundreds of Vietnamese civilians, including women and children.

Thompson, then 24, landed his helicopter amid the carnage of the massacre, and, when he realized that American troops were attacking civilians, called for help to airlift the massacre's survivors to safety.

He also ordered crew members to fire on their fellow Americans if they tried to further harm the villagers.

Shortly after My Lai, Thompson received the Distinguished Flying Cross as his crew mates received Bronze stars, but he looks on that cynically.

"It was only to keep me quiet," he said earlier.

Then, 10 years ago, David Egan, professor emeritus at Clemson University saw a BBC documentary on My Lai and began a campaign to get official recognition for Thompson and the two other soldiers.

Thompson, now a veterans' counselor in Lafayette, Louisiana, and Colburn, a salesman in Woodstock, Georgia, plan to visit My Lai on the massacre's anniversary later this month.

The Soldier's Medal is given to those who risk their lives in situations where an opposing army is not involved.

The My Lai massacre is one of the most famous and controversial massacres in the 20th century. The incident happened on May 16, 1968 by Charlie Company, Task Force Baker, Eleventh Brigade of America Division. Led by Lieutenant William Calley, the soldiers marched into My Lai at about 7:30 in the morning. Their motive was unknown but their orders were clear, kill everything that breathed.

Soldiers started leading villagers into ditches in groups where they had them huddle together. Then they mowed them down with rounds of ammunition. Young women were raped before their death. The troops killed everything in sight; women, men, children, livestock, and crops. They even burned down the houses.

A year after the massacre took place, Ronald Ridenhour reported the incident at My Lai and demanded an investigation. When authorities looked for the records of this happening, they found that most of the files had been misplaced or destroyed.

Fourteen men of rank were charged but only Calley was convicted of murdering "an unknown number of Oriental human beings." (Heroes, p 1) Partly because of the huge amounts of mail in Calley’s behalf, President Nixon pardoned him in 1974.

Even after 30 years, not all is known about what happened in My Lai. There are still debates on whether the soldiers should be held accountable for what happened in that small town in Vietnam.

 

Newsweek -- November 24, 1997

A Quiet War Over the Past

The brass battles over giving a hero of My Lai a medal
by Gregory L. Vistica

Hugh Thompson knew something had gone wrong. On the morning of March 16, 1968, the army warrant officer began what he thought would be another routine mission in Vietnam, buzzing his scout helicopter low over the jungle in search of Viet Cong soldiers. It was a clear day, and all was quiet. But when Thompson swung his chopper over the tiny village of My Lai, he saw American soldiers savagely beating and firing on Vietnamese civilians. Thompson and his two-man crew watched in disbelief as soldiers murdered women and children who had been pushed into an irrigation ditch. Other GIs set huts ablaze with hand grenades and Zippo lighters. There wasn't an enemy soldier in sight.

The My Lai massacre, of course, would come to be known as one of the darkest moments in American military history. In just four hours, nearly 500 Vietnamese civilians were killed. If not for Thompson, the body count would have been far higher. Defying a senior officer, he evacuated 10 civilians to safety, then landed to pull a squirming baby out of a ditch stacked with bodies. The killing spree stopped only after Thompson got back to base and told his commander what was happening.

The Pentagon's official report on the massacre hailed Thompson, now a Louisiana veterans counselor, as a hero. But nearly three decades later the army is still locked in a bitter feud over whether to give him the prestigious Soldier's Medal for his bravery. In one internal 1996 Pentagon e- mail obtained by NEWSWEEK, an army major urged outgoing Assistant Army Secretary Sara Lister to hold off: "We would be putting an ugly, controversial, and horrible story on the media's table," he wrote. "It's just my 2 cents but I recommend sitting on this completely until clear of the election." Lister insists the medal will eventually go through;it's just a matter of finding the right time. But it may not be so simple. My Lai is still deeply embarrassing to the senior ranks, many of whom are ashamed of the permanent stain the massacre left on the army. And with new military scandals--about sex and race--now making headlines, some in the Pentagon are especially reluctant to reopen old wounds. Thompson certainly isn't holding his breath. "The award doesn't stand a horse's chance in hell," he told NEWSWEEK.

Thompson doesn't need a citation to remind him of that day--he can't forget any of it. Approaching the village, he saw a teenage Vietnamese girl lying wounded in a rice field. From his chopper, Thompson popped a green smoke flare to mark her location and radioed for help. On the ground, an army captain ran to her. But instead of helping the girl, "he blew her away," Thompson says.

Finally he could take no more. He spotted a group of GIs chasing about 10 Vietnamese fleeing a make-shift bunker. Thompson set down his chopper in front of the advancing Americans and gave his gunner Lawrence Colburn a simple, direct order: Colburn was to train his M-60 on the GIs. If the Americans attempted to harm the villagers, "blow [the soldiers] away." Thompson coaxed the civilians out of the bunker. A nearby escort helicopter flew them to safety.

Low on fuel, Thompson was passing over a ditch filled with corpses when his other crewman, Glenn Andreotta, saw something move. Thompson landed. Wading into the heap, Andreotta emerged with a 3-year-old boy who was covered in blood but physically unharmed.

Thompson stayed in uniform for another 13 years, testifying against Lt. William Calley, the commanding officer who was court-martialed for murder at My Lai. Thompson eventually returned home to fly helicopters for an oil company. Then last year, unknown to Thompson, a hard-charging lieutenant colonel named Kevin Clement began pushing Thompson's case with the brass, holding up the pilot as a role model for officers in training. Clement got the higher-ups to study giving Thompson the medal before West Point cadets.

Then, nothing. Some in the Pentagon suggested giving Thompson the medal in a private ceremony that wouldn't draw attention. Frustrated, Clement e- mailed his superiors. "I thought the criteria we applied was supposed to [be]...'Is it fair to the soldier?'--not, 'How will this play in the press?' "

Back in 1969, Thompson refused another army medal, the Distinguished Flying Cross, believing the army was trying to buy his silence. But no matter what the brass decides, Thompson won't come away empty-handed. Next March he'll be in My Lai for the massacre's 30th anniversary. There he'll he reunited with the bloody child he once pulled out of a ditch, now all grown up.