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John O’Halloran: The incredible story of a WA war hero who will be bestowed the Medal for Gallantry

“When you give an order to fix bayonets and charge at an enemy you can’t even see . . . and every one of your men stands up screaming and attacks, it’s humbling.” The words belong to John O’Halloran, who almost 60 years after the ferocious battle described, will finally receive the Medal for Gallantry honouring his courage and leadership-under-fire as a platoon commander in the Vietnam War. While the Perth grandfather, now 80, will no doubt enjoy the occasion — he’s thrilled that family members have flown in from around the country for the investiture — he’s not really one for fuss and ceremony. But don’t think that, like some veterans, he’s uncomfortable talking about the war - he can talk under water about it. “I’ll talk about it 24-hours-of-the-day, because I’m so proud of my Diggers,” he said. He has every reason to be proud. “My platoon was the most decorated platoon ever to serve in Vietnam,” he said of 5 Platoon, Bravo Company, 6 Royal Australian Regiment (RAR). “My platoon saw more action than any other Australian platoon to serve in Vietnam and I gave the last order to fix bayonets and charge (for a platoon) under fire in over 100 years,” he added. At just 21, he was in the thick of fighting in some of the biggest battles of the war, including Operations Hobart, Long Tan and Bribie during his one year deployment. As well as trying to stay alive in the most precarious situations, he was responsible for 26 other lives and, of course, executing any mission or task he was assigned. The events are all the more remarkable given he was conscripted into national service aged 20. One minute he was an insurance clerk in NSW, the next he was receiving an accelerated course in officer training before being flown to a foreign land and thrust into war against a highly formidable enemy that had intimate knowledge of the terrain, from which it hid and pounced. It was in Bribie that his actions earned him a Mention in Dispatches and the Medal for Gallantry that he’ll receive from the WA Governor Chris Dawson at Government House on Tuesday. And it was in Bribie that losses caused him enduring heartache. His platoon flew into battle on US Huey helicopters on February 17, 1967, with 27 Diggers — loyal men he’d photographed in their sections hours earlier. “We landed at half past three in the afternoon,” he said. “By four o’clock, I had six dead and 12 wounded.” The Viet Cong had been waiting to ambush the Australians and they were greeted by a torrent of heavy machinegun fire. At one point 5 Platoon was under attack from the front and its right flank. Other platoons had gone to ground against an unexpectedly large — more than 300-strong - foe that assailed them from tree-tops and covered positions. Pinned down in jungle and ordered to complete the assault alone, he ordered the bayonet charge. They got so far and had to take cover again. He re-organised his platoon and was able to guide artillery fire onto the enemy, though some shells fell short on top of them. With so many wounded needing evacuation, he got on the radio and persuaded the top brass to send some armoured personnel carriers to assist and extricate them. There was more drama besides, but according to his medal citation: “he led with courage and determination, inspiring his soldiers to hold their ground in a close battle that continued until nightfall, when the enemy withdrew.” But for his leadership, many more would have died, claim others who were there. “He could have been overrun completely and lost the lot, but he held his cool and controlled the fire,” said Henry Chisholm, who was a Sergeant in 4 Platoon. “We were only 20 yards away (from 5 Platoon),” said the 89-year-old, who remembers the day well and pushed for his mate to get recognition. “I saw what he did. Originally, he was Mentioned in Dispatches. Then I thought, well, he was better than that.” There was another archaic obstacle. “Just before I came home from Vietnam, I was put in for a Military Cross,” Mr O’Halloran explained. “Australia didn’t have an honours and awards system then, so it came under the British system. And the British system was, for every 5000 men on the ground, you could have one Military Cross every six months.” The earlier heroics of another officer in his battalion, Major Harry Smith, at Long Tan, meant he missed out. “It’s only been 60 years,” he joked of his belated recognition . “The army aren’t all that fast.” Mr O’Halloran is still the “boss”, “skipper” or “sir” to his Digger mates and other friends who frequently drop on in his “office” to chew the fat with him and put a dent in his seemingly endless supply of stubbies. He explains he’s “not a camel” and anyone who gets up to use the loo has to visit the beer fridge to replenish their liquid stocks. His office is a sheltered corner of his backyard festooned with photographs and memorabilia. Pride of place goes to the photos of 5 Platoon he took before 18 of them were either killed or wounded the same day. “Ninety per cent of them were national service, the same age as me. My youngest bloke killed was 18-years-old, a young bloke here from Perth,” he said. Three of the six killed in his platoon were from WA: Privates Brian Waters, David Webster and Wayne Riley. All were conscripts. After he was demobbed, he came to WA to visit their families. “I said how sorry I was that they got killed under my command . . . we’re still friends with those people.” Born and raised in Tamworth, NSW, Mr O’Halloran ended up settling in Perth’s northern suburbs’, building a home and family with his devoted wife Lesley. That wasn’t before trying to get back to Vietnam immediately following the end of his national service. “I thought I was a pretty good platoon commander and I wanted to get square with the Viet Cong for the blokes out of my platoon they killed,” he said. “I flew to Canberra, and saw our old battalion commander, and I said, ‘Look. I’d like to go back to Vietnam. And he said, ‘John, the army would love you back. So, I said, ‘beauty’.” He was interviewed in Sydney. “They said, ‘We’ll promote you to Captain straight away, and you’ll be a training officer at Singleton. And I said, ‘Hey, you assholes. I told you I want to go back to Vietnam.’” His plain speaking was part-and-parcel of the man and still is. As much as they probably didn’t enjoy his candour at times, his own commanders in Vietnam quickly found out he was both a natural soldier and a leader. Other infantrymen in his battalion, wanted to be in his platoon and he was given almost unheard of access to the Sergeants mess because the senior NCO’s liked the eager young subaltern. It was just as well because he’d been barred from own mess. He probably shouldn’t have been passed medically fit for National Service. He’d severed almost every tendon in his left foot during some drunken high jinks a few months earlier - doing a runner from a Chinese restaurant - and the Commonwealth Medical Examiner had said his injury was his get-out-of-Vietnam card. “He said, ‘The Army won’t have a bar to do with you. Look at your foot. You’ve had every tendon cut, and we still can’t find one tendon to your big toe.’ And I said, ‘I want to go’. He said, ‘You’re mad.’ And I said, ‘Well, you’ve been my doctor for years, you know I’m mad’.” His foot did give him grief in Vietnam and was made worse from the tropical ulcers he got. “You’d go bush for up to three weeks at a time, and you never ever changed your socks or anything. And I had a stack of my blokes out of my platoon who had to come back to Australia because they got what’s called foot rot, where your sock grows into your heel ... Our boots would have been full of water for two or three weeks at a time.” Mr O’Halloran lost one of his schoolmates from Tamworth, Gordon Sharp, in the Battle of Long Tan. He’d been joking with his fellow officer just a few hours before and his death “rocked him to the core”. “I took General (William) Westmoreland (commander of US forces in Vietnam from 1964-68) through the battlefield the next morning, and Sharpie had been shot straight through the throat, but he was laying on his back and he had his eyes open, so I just closed his eyes and said, ‘there, you can go to sleep again now’.” More of Mr O’Halloran’s wartime exploits and life is told in his book The Platoon Commander. He is revered by his Regiment and other veterans. In 2017, 6th Battalion named its annual platoon commander trophy after him.

exclusiveJohn O’Halloran: The incredible story of a WA war hero who will be bestowed the Medal for Gallantry

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John O’Halloran: The incredible story of a WA war hero who will be bestowed the Medal for Gallantry