Meadows didn’t leave men behind

By David Maurer

Published: June 8, 2008

Last of a three-part series.

One of the finest compliments I’ve ever received came from Capt. Richard “Dick” Meadows.

I had served under him for a number of months when he was commander of Recon Company of Command and Control North during the Vietnam War. I had been one of his recon team leaders conducting missions mostly into Laos, and a few into North Vietnam.

Before Meadows left for another assignment, he took me aside. He told me I had done well, and in the future if a special mission ever came along that he was involved with he would make sure I was on his team.

“That’s a deal,” I answered. We shook hands on it, and parted ways.

I left Vietnam in June 1970 and got out of the service. After several months as a civilian I went back in, and was assigned to the 10th Special Forces Group at Fort Devens, Mass.

I was at Devens when I learned that Meadows had been the leader of the assault team on the Son Tay prison camp raid in North Vietnam on Nov. 21, 1970. I felt like I had been stood up.

Meadows on a mission

Fifty-six handpicked U.S. Army Special Forces soldiers under the command of Col. Arthur “Bull” Simons took part in the operation to rescue American POWs from the prison 23 miles west of Hanoi. Meadows and members of his team were on a helicopter that intentionally crash-landed inside the prison compound.

It had been thought the trees the helicopter would have to plow through were about 40 feet high. They turned out to be three times that high, causing the ensuing crash to be much more severe than anticipated.

The impact was so hard it snapped the ankle bone of the helicopter crew chief and momentarily stunned the assault team. Nonetheless, within a few seconds Meadows was outside the wreckage and bringing a megaphone up to his mouth.

“We’re Americans,” Meadows said in a calm, reassuring voice. “Keep your heads down. We’re Americans. Get on the floor. We’ll be in your cells in a minute.”

A surprise awaits

With deadly precision achieved through countless hours of practice and rehearsal, the assault team went to work. North Vietnamese soldiers throughout the prison and surrounding area were killed by extremely accurate gunfire.

A 14-man team entered the prison to rescue the prisoners. The disappointment was crushing when they discovered there were no prisoners to bring home. They had been moved several weeks before, because the well on the compound had gone dry.

Meadows had the heartbreaking task of radioing back the message, “Negative items.”

The entire mission had taken just 27 minutes, and not one American life was lost.

Still, the mood among the courageous raiders as they returned home was dark and depressed. Only later did they learn the failed mission had borne unanticipated fruit.

Morale among the POWs soared when they learned about the attempt to free them.

After the raid the North Vietnamese consolidated all American POWs in Hanoi, and began treating them more humanely.

In early 1971 I was assigned to the 1st Special Forces Group on Okinawa. I hadn’t been there long when I spotted my old friend Dick Meadows at a Group picnic.

I guess he saw the hurt in my eyes as I walked up. Without a word he motioned for me to follow him.

As we walked, Meadows explained he had spent weeks trying to track me down, but couldn’t find me anywhere. I realized it was during the time I had been out of the Army.

When he finally learned I was at Fort Devens, they were too far advanced in the training for the Son Tay mission to include me.

“Next time,” we both said almost in unison.

But the next special operation Meadows went on was by himself. In early 1980 he became involved in the attempt to rescue the Americans being held hostage in the U.S. embassy in Tehran, Iran.

Meadows entered the country under the assumed name Richard Keith, and with a cover story that he was an automobile executive from Ireland.

His mission included scouting out the security around the embassy.

A sandstorm in the desert where the rescue aircraft were assembling led to a crash, and the mission had to be aborted.

Documents left behind at the crash site compromised Meadows and his mission.

Relying on the ingenuity and bravery that had seen him through many ominous situations, Meadows managed to escape into Turkey. Once again factors beyond his control had resulted in failure.

During the ensuing years Meadows continued to serve his country in ways that remain classified to this day.

He was working in Central America in 1995 when he suddenly felt a bone-deep weakness begin to overwhelm his exceptionally fit 64-year-old body.

Medical tests revealed he was in the terminal stage of leukemia. Within a week of the diagnosis, the Special Forces legend was dead.

Before Meadows died on July 29, 1995, he learned he was to receive the Presidential Citizens Medal.

The medal is bestowed by the president to “U.S. citizens who have performed exemplary deeds of service for the nation.”

Just before his death, Meadows told his friend and fellow Special Forces soldier John L. Plaster, “It’s like I’m preparing for one last patrol.”

He also said the only thing he had ever wanted and never got was “to lead one that succeeded.”

Meadows obviously was thinking about Son Tay and the aborted embassy mission.

Although these operations did fail to accomplish their goals, they succeeded in leaving an indelible message.

These valiant attempts served to tell the world that there are Americans who will go to the ends of the Earth, and risk everything, for their fellow countrymen.

And even among these special people who put others and their nation above self, Richard “Dick” Meadows stood as an example for all.