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<p>Fire Support Base (FSB) Berchtesgaden was one of many FSBs strung along the rocky crests above Vietnam’s Ah Shau Valley. Overlooking Highway 547, 34 kilometers west of Hue, the area was a major enemy supply route not far from the Laotian border. Originally named Eagle’s Nest, over time it became better known as Berchtesgaden, sarcastically named after a German officer’s alpine retreat that was captured by the 101st Airborne Division near the end of World War II. However, this Berchtesgaden was no alpine retreat. It was a “scorched, defoliated, red clay scar on top of a mountain neighboring Hamburger Hill.”</p>
<p>In late spring of 1969, FSB Berchtesgaden was home to the 3d Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division, supporting Operation Apache Snow. In June 1969, it was home to Captain <em>Robert Michael “Mike” Snell</em>, stationed as an artillery liaison officer from his assigned unit in 1st Brigade, the HHB, 2nd Battalion, 320th Artillery. Mike was on his second tour with this unit.</p>
<p>In the evening of June 13th, Mike met with a West Point classmate who was in charge of an artillery battery on the FSB. They shared a few beers (technically not allowed) and reminisced. Later, Mike returned to his bunker near the Brigade TOC. </p>
<p>At 0430 the next morning this “serenity” changed. Berchtesgaden was attacked by two companies of the 6th North Vietnamese Regiment from three directions. Behind withering small arms fire, sappers penetrated the concertina perimeter. They headed for predesignated targets, tossing satchel charges as they went. Eighty-two-mm mortar rounds rained down on the FSB. </p>
<p>Mike was at the TOC, communicating with 1st Brigade for their artillery support. Word came that there were casualties at the perimeter, 50 meters away. Disregarding his safety, he left the command bunker and carried a wounded soldier back. In his second attempt to rescue another casualty, a mortar round exploded, mortally wounding him. </p>
<p>At daylight, after intense artillery and air support, contact was broken. The enemy suffered 33 dead; the FSB had 11 killed and 47 wounded. Through it all, Captain Mike Snell displayed extraordinary heroism and dedication to duty, ultimately costing him his life.</p>
<p>Later, his Dad wrote:</p>
<p><em>To Those Who Cared…</em></p>
<p><em>You could not know—we could not say—how much the manifestations of love and friendship for our family, of respect for the man Mike had come to be, and of honor to our Country, have meant to us in the recent days. From far and wide they have come: some who did not know us, but knew and loved Mike; others who never knew him, but loved us; and yet others who knew neither, but loved our Country and wanted but to do it honor in ministering to the family of one of her fallen sons. We thank you all from the depths of our hearts for your many acts of kindness.</em></p>
<p><em>There has been some interest in the circumstances of Mike’s death. We have been officially advised as follows:</em></p>
<p><em>“Captain Snell’s unit was subjected to an intense mortar attack, followed by a ground attack. When the first mortar round hit, several personnel were injured and needed immediate medical attention. Captain Snell, aware of the need for his presence, with complete disregard for his personal safety, moved approximately 50 yards from his protective bunker and exposed himself to heavy mortar fire to assist the wounded. He carried one wounded soldier to safety and returned to retrieve another when a mortar round exploded, fatally wounding him.”</em></p>
<p><em>If you had seen Mike’s eyes, on occasion, fill with tears as he spoke intensely of the bravery and courage of young kids in battle—“You can’t believe what they can do”— as we had seen at times on his last visits home, you would understand that he could not have done otherwise than he did do.</em></p>
<p><em>Some have inquired concerning burial at West Point. Let it be said that he loved the people of his youth. Of them, in a recent letter he had said, “I love the people and the country, God knows how much.” But it was at West Point that he came full bloom as his own man; and the beauty of the trees and hills along the Hudson, of which he wrote glowingly each spring, is the scene he came to love. Of the City, so disgusting to him in his first days at the Academy because he then had eyes only for its filth, he came to be able to say, near the end of his earthly journey, with broadened vision, “Quite a place. Really beautiful. There’s nothing quite like driving down Park Ave about 2:00am. Beautiful.” It was only right that he sleep among his friends, Class of ’66—among them John Hoskins, of whom he had written tersely, but so respectfully, only a year earlier on learning of his death in battle, “He was a fine soldier. It really hurts.”</em></p>
<p><em>One of his closest friends at the Academy has written to say, “There was a quote Mike and I used to recite when situations like this arose, ‘Let it be said, WELL DONE; now Be Thou at Peace. Amen.’” So, let it be said of Mike, and as simply.</em></p>
<p><em>Thank you again and again and again. Only God can requite your kindnesses in full measure. — Signed Mike’s Family</em></p>
<p>Mike was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for bravery. Surrounded by family and friends, Mike was buried at West Point, among classmates. In life, he is remembered as the ultimate All-American boy who “packed more love of country and its preservations than most of us in a lifetime.”</p>
<p><em>— Mike’s Father, Family, Classmates and Friends</em></p>
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