When Lt. Craig T. Nelson arrived at Khe Sanh in mid January 1967, he was just a young US Army company leader on a tour of jungle duty. Nelson was on patrol duty almost every night, leading his troops through the thick tropical jungles looking for Charlie. There was always water during the monsoon rains, and the VC and NVA always had their eyes out to put a bullet through a careless GIs head.

When daylight came it was a great relief for the young Lt. Nelson, who would secure his position and get his boys some coffee and Spam sandwiches. Before his company secured their positions, they had to pick up our claymore mines that they placed in front of their foxholes before the fog and darkness rolled in, sometimes they would be turned around and be facing their position, or they might be gone, stolen by the gooks during the night. Nobody ever heard Charlie, but they sure knew he was there, and very close.

One night on patrol, Lt. Nelson could hear and see movement a few hundred yards in the distance. It was a once in a lifetime where they could see at night. He used the field phone to call for a few flares to light up the night to get a better look at the field of fire, and to get a look at what was in front of him. Waiting for it seemed a lifetime, no flares, he waited some more, still no parachute flares. Lt. Nelson called the mortar crew again and asked for illumination. This time he was told that the Sergeant of the guard had to request it before they could send up any illumination. Nelson, irate, demanded to know when in the hell did this take place? He always got illumination when he needed it. The answer on the other end was darn if I know, thats what I was told.

Frantic, Craig called his Sergeant, James F. Red Hamlin, but got no answer. His mind was awash with fear and distress: had Charlie crawled up and got in the bunker with Red and killed him or took him as a prisoner? Lt. Nelson told PFC Bill Copeland he was going to check on the Sergeant of the guard, as his bunker was a few hundred yards from the position. It was slow and careful going; Lt. Nelson didn't want to be shot by mistake by a gung ho Marine or picked off by some two-bit gook waiting in a rats nest. To make a long story short, when Nelson arrived at the SOG bunker, he heard Red snoring like crazy: he was asleep.

Not knowing how to handle this problem and not wanting anyone else knowing that the SOG was sleeping on post, Lt. Nelson pitched a grenade out in front of the bunker. It lit up the darkness like daylight, then everyone on the perimeter opened up firing their weapons like they were in combat, and out of nowhere appearing in the sky was several flares lighting up our area like noonday. Nelson Company had illumination off and on the rest of the night. Lt. Craig T. Nelson, to his company of 8 men, was a hero.