Congressional Medal of Honor Day
On Congressional Medal of Honor Day which lands on March 25 yearly, U.S. Army Yuma Proving Ground (YPG) remembers the late Command Sgt. Maj. Bennie G. Adkins’ visit to the post in 2015.
During his stay, he visited the operations of the Military Freefall School and met board members of the ‘Yuma 50’ military support group.
“From what I’ve seen of the personnel here and people from the community, they are quality folks, highly patriotic Americans,” he said during his visit.
Adkins, who originally entered the Army in 1956 as a conscripted clerk, served three tours in Vietnam as part of Army Special Forces, spanning the days prior to the deployment of combat troops to the waning days when American withdrawal was in progress. He recalls arriving for the first time as an advisor in 1963, dressed in civilian clothes and being told to get an international driver’s license. By the end of his last tour in 1971, his driver’s license photo was receiving far more attention than he ever imagined.
“They had a poster, ‘wanted, dead or alive,’ for me, and my photograph from that international driver’s license showed up on those posters,” he said.
When his second tour began in late 1965, Adkins served in a Special Forces camp in the A Shau Valley,
close to the Laotian border. The region was a significant entry point for men and materiel travelling along the so-called Ho Chi Minh trail, and the isolated camp was only accessible by air. In early March 1966, the camp was attacked by waves of Viet Cong and North Vietnamese forces.
Blindsided by the attack and immobilized by bad weather that made air travel impossible, Adkins and the other men of Camp A Shau frantically engaged in the fight of their lives. A company of South Vietnamese soldiers associated with the camp defected to the North Vietnamese during the attack, creating a gaping hole in their defense. Adkins took an 81 mm mortar pit as a fighting position and continued his counter-barrage even
after sustaining intense enemy fire, going so far as to use ammo boxes to make a makeshift bipod when the weapon’s bipod was damaged. At one point, adversary forces began lobbing hand grenades into his pit: a South Vietnamese solider took the brunt of one blast, losing a leg, and Adkins miraculously caught another in midair and threw it back.
“They lost interest in hand grenade fighting for a little while after that.”
The battle continued, however. At one point Adkins and a South Vietnamese soldier had to run into a mine field to retrieve an errant re-supply drop. His comrade was wounded by gunfire, then shot dead while Adkins struggled to carry him back to safety. Exhausted and battered, the men of Camp A Shau were eventually favored with a break in the weather and an order to totally evacuate the post. Marine Corps helicopters were dispatched to facilitate the exit.
“They put 18 helicopters in the air, but only eight made it,” he said with a grimace.
There wasn’t enough room on the helicopters for everyone. With the executive officer, four South Vietnamese soldiers, and a mortally wounded American Soldier, the exhausted Adkins took to the surrounding jungle. They had little in the way of gear except for a then-state of the art FM radio.
“The antenna was shot off of it, but I was able to take that radio, use my weapon for an antenna, standing in water, and communicate with an aircraft.”
Their luck still hadn’t turned, though: enemy forces shot the helicopter down. Night was falling, and they were completely surrounded. The men finally caught an unexpected break from a four-legged inhabitant of the jungle.
“We started hearing a noise, and then started seeing an eye. We were so bloody and smelled so bad that a tiger stalked us. The North Vietnamese were more afraid of the tiger than they were of us - they backed off, and we were gone again. Fortunately, we were picked up the next day,” he explained.
It is reckoned that Adkins killed in excess of 100 adversary troops through the grueling four-day ordeal and saved at least a dozen of his own men. He sustained 18 different wounds, from shrapnel to gunshots. Through it all, he maintained an unshakeable will to survive.
“It was not my day to go,” he said. “I didn’t have any fear or any doubt in my mind that I would make it out, even if I had to walk. That would have been about 40 miles.”
Adkins retired from the Army a dozen years after his harrowing experience in the A Shau Valley. His last post was as Command Sergeant Major at Fort Sherman, Panama, which these days is sometimes used by YPG’s Tropic Regions Test Center to test equipment in a realistic jungle environment.
Despite his substantial heroics, Adkins was humble about the extremely rare honor he possessed.
“A person does not attempt to earn any type of medal,” he said quietly. “That’s something bestowed upon you by your command and other individuals in battle with you.”
Adkins passed away at age 86 in 2020.