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There are more ways than ever to listen to History Daily ad free. Listen with Wondry plus in the Wondery app as a member of Noiser plus at noiser.com or in Apple Podcasts. Or you can get all of History Daily plus other fantastic history podcasts@intohristory.com in my sophomore year of high school, I was becoming a bit of a Vietnam War expert. Over the previous four years, the Movies, Platoon, Full Metal Jacket, Good Morning Vietnam, Hamburger Hill, born on the 4th of July, and Others were released. I'd read A Rumor of War by Philip Caputo, Chicken Hawk by Robert Mason, and a small bookshelf of others, so I was steeped in Vietnam stories at the time. But it was Tim O' Brien's 1990 book the Things They Carried that was probably the hardest hitting. Such a piece of visceral writing, whipsawing between humor and horror, tragedy and triumphant. It's a book that will make you feel for sure, but also think deeply about morality, what it is, what it isn't, when it matters and when nothing does. But for men like Tim o', Brien, who was himself stationed in Vietnam and drew on his own experiences to write the book, it all mattered. It mattered so much that a whole generation of young men came home shaken and shattered, and the Americans at home didn't really understand. They couldn't understand until revelations came out. Stories corroborated by photographs and eyewitness testimony telling of a massacre, an atrocity, a mass murder of innocents at the hands of American soldiers, covered up by a complicit chain of command. On today's Saturday matinee, we're bringing you the story of the massacre at My Lai from one of my other podcasts, American Scandal. It's a story of failed leadership and lost humanity, and I hope you enjoy. While you're listening, be sure to search for and follow American Scandal. We put a link in the show notes to make it easy for you.
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The WNBA playoffs are on the horizon, and Tommy Alter's the Young man in the Three takes you deeper into the action. Join Tommy for exclusive WNBA insights as he links up with the league's biggest stars and dives deep into WNBA playoff matchups and analysis you won't hear anywhere else. The Young man in the 3's WNBA playoff coverage is presented by Quest Nutrition. From irresistibly crunchy protein chips to rich chocolatey protein bars, these treats make giving in feel so good. Quest Big on protein, Low on sugar Huge on flavor Shop Quest on Amazon@Amazon.com questnutrition and check out all the WNBA action on the Young man and the three wherever you get your podcasts.
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N rakuten.com American Scandal uses dramatizations that are based on true events. Some elements, including dialogue, might be invented, but everything is based on historical research. A Listener Note this episode contains descriptions of violence and may not be suitable for all audiences. It's late November 1969 in New York City. Inside a television studio at CBS News, two men sit quietly as all around them crew members get cameras and microphones ready. One of the men is Mike Wallace, a veteran broadcaster wearing a sharp suit and a no nonsense expression. But the pale young man sitting across from him is very different, wearing glasses and a patterned sweater. Paul Meadlow is a 22 year old from Indiana who served as a US army private in Vietnam. He fidgets in his seat, squinting under the bright stage lights. He's nervous, not just because he's about to be broadcast on TV across the nation, but because he has a secret to tell. The crew get in their places and the director counts Wallace in, giving him the signal that the cameras are rolling. We're speaking today with Paul Meadlow, who served in Charlie Company, 11th Infantry Brigade. Paul, I want to ask you plainly, were you present at my lai on March 16, 1968? Yes sir. Can you describe what your unit was instructed to do that day? We were told to search the village for the Viet Cong and ensure there were none left. And what did you encounter upon entering the village? There were a lot of people. They weren't supposed to be there. Our intelligence reports said that all civilians would be gone to the market that morning. So what did you do with them. We gathered them up. And these were old men, women, children. Is that right? We didn't know who was the enemy and who wasn't. They could have been VC sympathizers. So we all huddled them up. What happened then? Lt. Cali came over and said, you know what to do with them, don't you? I thought he meant to guard them, but he came back later and asked why they weren't dead yet. He started shooting and told me to start shooting too. Did you comply? Yes. I fired my weapon. At whom? At the villagers. The old men, women and children. Meadlo nods and Wallace leans forward and babies. And babies. How many rounds did you fire? About four clips. Do you know how many people you might have killed? It's hard to say. Maybe 10 or 15. Wallace fixes Meadlo with an intense stare. You're a father, is that correct? Yes, sir. Two children. How does a father of two shoot babies? I don't know. It's just one of them things. Why did you do it? I felt I was ordered to. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. Do you often think about that day? Yes. I see the women and children in my dreams. Some nights I can't even sleep. This CBS interview with Paul Meadlow will be front page news all across America. Mike Wallace's unflinching forensic questions draw out shocking revelations about what happened at My Lai. It's an interviewing masterclass that leaves the audience in no doubt. An atrocity has been committed in Vietnam, and for those watching at home, it's hard to reconcile the ordinary looking farm boy with the terrible things he's describing. But it's even harder to comprehend how this tragedy has been swept under the rug. It's been more than a year and a half since the massacre took place, and up until just a few days ago, no one in the American public had any idea it had even happened. From Wondery hi, I'm Lindsey Graham and this is American scandal. On March 16, 1968, during the height of the Vietnam War, a unit of U.S. army soldiers entered a village in South Vietnam and murdered hundreds of unarmed civilians. It was not a firefight or a battle gone wrong. It was a massacre. And for over a year it was covered up, with the army burying reports, the Pentagon keeping it quiet, and most politicians simply not wanting to know the truth. But thanks to the bravery of whistleblowers and the determination of reporters, what happened in the village of My Lai eventually became public knowledge. What followed was a country wide reckoning over truth, accountability, and The Real cost of war. This is episode one the Road to My Lai it's mid March 1967 at Fort Benning, a US army base in Georgia. Dozens of young recruits pack into an overheated training room, standing shoulder to shoulder. The windows fog up as fluorescent lights buzz overhead. Among the soldiers is Florida born William Calley. He's 24 years old, 5 foot 3 inches tall, and weighs barely 130 pounds. He enlisted last year and has already completed basic training. Now he's beginning a 26 week course to qualify as a junior officer. Callie's eyes flick around the room, pausing briefly on the broader shoulders and taller frames of most of the other men. He knows what they all must think of him, and he's too small, too weak. But he's determined to prove them all wrong. At the front of the room, a drill sergeant paces slowly back and forth, his boots thumping against the linoleum floor as he speaks. He beckons forward a young recruit in the front row, and Callie has a flash of envy. Part of him wants to be the one up there in front of everyone. But then, without warning, the sergeant drives his boot straight into the man's stomach. The soldier drops to the floor, clutching himself in pain. Callie winces now grateful it wasn't him who was chosen. The sergeant barks at the man to get up and get back in line. Holding his side, the recruit scrambles to his feet to do as he's told. But the sergeant isn't finished yet. As soon as the first man rejoins the other recruits, he calls forward another. He grabs that soldier by the collar and flips him hard onto the floor. Then he raises his boot high over the man's face and then slams it down. The recruit flinches, bracing for impact, but the sergeant stops, his boot an inch above the soldier's head. The sergeant explains how from that position you can push the nose right into the brain, or stomp on the ribcage and puncture the lungs. No weapon is required. Bone can become shrapnel if you know where to crush it. The sergeant's tone is clinical and emotionless, but the message is simple. If you go in for the kill, make sure you finish it. Then do it again. Some of the men in the room exchange glances. Others stare blankly, but Calley leans forward, absorbing everything. This is why he's here, to become a warrior. But during his training at Fort Benning, Callie is not that successful. He struggles with the basics of soldiering. He can barely read a map, and he's hopeless with a compass. Even more concerning to his superiors is his lack of what the army calls command presence. Cali isn't well liked or respected by his fellow recruits. Something about him just doesn't inspire loyalty or confidence in others. Still, the army needs as many bodies as they can get. America's involvement in the war in Vietnam has deepened steadily through the 1960s. Hundreds of thousands of US troops are now on the ground trying to support the government of South Vietnam in their fight against the communist North. But with casualties growing, public support for the war in America is beginning to crack. Many young men try to avoid the draft, and the military is always desperate for more junior officers to lead the fight. So although Calley graduates in the bottom quarter of his class, it's good enough. He's commissioned as a lieutenant and assigned to lead a platoon in Charlie Company in a battalion of the 11th Infantry Brigade. And on December 1, 1967, he departs for South Vietnam. After a 12 hour flight to Da Nang Air Base in the middle of the country, Cali and his men are airlifted 75 miles south to Quang Ngai Province, a volatile region on the coast regarded as a stronghold of the Viet Cong, the communist guerrilla army fighting in South Vietnam. There the men of Charlie Company are folded into a new unit, the Americol Division. As Cali and the rest of the men settle into their new home, they are briefed on what to expect. They get general instructions on how to patrol, how to call in fire support, and how to distinguish Viet Cong from non combatants. And within only days of his arrival in Vietnam, Callie is sent out on his first mission. But it doesn't take him long to make a mistake. He's deep in the Quang Nai jungle with the men of the 1st Platoon when he realizes that somewhere between gearing up and reaching the patrol checkpoint, he forgot his grenades. It's an unforgivable error for a platoon leader heading into hostile terrain. Now Cally is alone, backtracking through the sweltering jungle to fetch them. The air around him is dense and claustrophobic. Vines catch on his uniform, and with each footstep he sinks into damp and uncertain ground. Finally, he makes it back to camp. He keeps his head down, avoiding eye contact with the other men there. He doesn't want to explain why he's back without his platoon. He'll just get in and out, and hopefully his superiors will be none the wiser. So he heads straight to the ammo cache and grabs a crowbar, fumbling to crack open one of the wooden boxes. Sweat pours down his face as the lid finally gives with a groan. Inside, rows of grenades sit in neat foam slots. He reaches for a few of them, but then hears footsteps behind him. He spins around to see Captain Ernest Medina scowling. Callie straightens at attention. Medina is the commanding officer of Charlie Company and a decade older than Callie. He's known as Mad Dog and for good reason. He's a fearsome soldier and a well respected leader. But when his men fail to meet his high standards, his temper ignites. Like right now, he rips into Calley for being idiotic and irresponsible. It's a barrage of fury launched at Calley in front of half a dozen nearby men. Calley just stands there, staring forward, his jaw locked as his face goes red. He can feel the other soldiers watching and smirking. But worse is Medina's obvious contempt for him. Qali has looked up to his captain ever since he met him. He sees Medina as everything he is, not everything he wishes he was. Confident, respected, a war hero in the making. But now the disgust in his eyes hurts Callie more than any of his words. The dressing down stretches on for what feels to Kali like several excruciating minutes, and when Medina is finally finished, he turns on his heel and storms off. The only sound left is the buzzing of flies. Calley looks away from the other men. His hands tremble as he grabs the grenades and stuffs them into his belt pouch. Hurrying out of the camp, he tells himself that this won't ever happen again. Unfortunately for William Calley, this grenade incident is just the beginning. A few weeks later, he makes another mistake. Calley and his platoon are on a mission, moving through an open field just after midnight. Fog hangs low over the land and visibility is near zero. Suddenly, Qalli hears rustling in the stalks behind him. He thinks it's the Viet Cong sneaking up on them. He panics and calls for the launch of yellow flares. The entire field lights up like a football stadium. But it's not the Viet Cong. It's just his imagination giving in to paranoia. And what he hasn't considered is that the flares don't just illuminate the terrain around his mental they also give away their exact position to any enemy watching from the shadows. It's a textbook blunder. But by sheer luck, there's no attack. The field remains quiet. The flares eventually sputter out and darkness returns. Still, Captain Medina lets Callie have it in another harsh public reprimand in front of the entire platoon. Medina gives Callie a nickname for being too soft and Scared, Lieutenant? Sweetheart? For Cali, it's a crushing blow, but he refuses to crumble under the pressure. With every day that passes, he only hardens more, becoming stricter with his men and with the Vietnamese civilians around them. Calley believes it's the only way to meet Medina's high expectations. One afternoon in late December 1967, Calley and his men are out on patrol. The sun beats down on Charlie Company as they guard a rickety wooden bridge in Quang Ngai Province. Insects buzz past their heads and it's stiflingly hot. They're here to hold the perimeter around a small rural village. Huts with thatched roofs line the edge of a rice paddy where smoke rises from cooking fires. A few Vietnamese women linger nearby, baskets balanced on their hips, while their children stare at the American troops. Shy but curious, some of the children just wave. But the braver ones work up the courage to come closer. One young American GI kneels down, pulls a stick of gum from his shirt pocket and hands it to a smiling boy. Go on, take it, kid. It's yours. You chew it like this. He unwraps the gum for the child. Nearby, another soldier lets a little girl try on his helmet, laughing as it wobbles over her eyes. From a few paces away, though, Qali watches his arms climbing frost. To him, this is not a heartwarming moment. It's a breakdown in discipline, and it makes his skin crawl. The GI looks up. Hey, sir, I don't think these kids have ever seen gum before. You got any more? I'm all out. Maybe some candy. That'll blow their minds. You think this is a damn ice cream social? I'm just giving the kids a piece of gum. Sir, they're not hurting anyone. That is not the point. I'm sorry, sir. You don't know who the enemy is. None of us do. That's the point. You might think they're harmless, but the last guy who let his guard down got blown apart. Sir, they're just kids. I mean, that little boy, he could be marking our position, taking your candy, and then running home to tell Daddy everything about us. And that little girl, her mom might be bearing a mine right now on the other side of the village, and you're gonna hand her gum while she does it? Jesus, Lieutenant, do you want to go home in a body bag? Because this is how it happens. We got targets on our back every minute we're out here. And you're an idiot if you think handing a girl some gum is going to make a damn bit of difference here. These people hate us. They want to see every last one of us dead. The GI walks off, muttering under his breath. Callie watches him go without saying another word, but inside he draws a quiet, private conclusion. If he wants to keep these men alive, he's got to teach them to stop seeing villagers, stop seeing civilians, and start seeing threats. The sooner they learn that, the better. History Daily is sponsored by Indeed. Back in 1999, I remember reading Bill Gates book Business at the speed of thought. 25 years later and well, the speed of business has only increased. And that includes hiring. You can't sit around waiting for paper resumes to filter in. You need to find quality candidates right now because opportunity waits for no one. Which is why when it to Hiring Indeed is all you need. Their sponsored jobs help you stand out and hire fast. They get your posts to jump to the top of the page for your relevant candidates so you can reach the people you want faster. And it makes a huge difference. According to Indeed data, sponsored jobs posted directly on indeed have 45% more applications than non sponsored jobs. There's no need to wait any longer. Speed up your hiring right now with Indeed. 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By New Year's Day 1968, the war in Vietnam is growing more chaotic and dangerous. Morale among The US Forces in the country is low and suspicion toward the Vietnamese population is deepening, especially in rural areas. In Quang Ngai province, Army leadership assembles a new combat unit from the Americol Division. Called Task Force Barker, it's named after its commander, Lt. Col. Frank Barker. Barker is an 18 year army veteran with a reputation for discipline and results drawn from multiple commands. His new unit is made up of 500 men and includes Lt. William Cowley and Charlie Company. The task force is given the mission of destroying the Viet Cong presence in a region of Quang Ngai that Americans call Pinkville. It's a dense, treacherous area of rice paddies, narrow footpaths and scattered hamlets where the enemy can easily blend in with civilians. And the goal of the task force's 90 day campaign isn't to capture the territory, but to eliminate resistance. Enemy kills would be the measure of success. When Captain Ernest Medina relays this mission to Charlie Company, his men erupt in cheers. And no one is happier than William Calley. This is what he's been waiting for. He spent months training for combat back home, but since arriving in Vietnam, he's seen little of it and his frustration has been growing. Now here's a chance to actually fight the enemy, to use the skills he learned from his drill sergeant, and to prove to Captain Medina that he's a real soldier. So day after day, the men of Task Force Barker patrol through the heat and muck of Quang Nai. The enemy seems to be everywhere and nowhere at once. The Viet Cong strike from the shadows. They bury mines in the dirt, hide snipers in the trees and string tripwire along footpaths. American soldiers are maimed or killed without ever seeing who fired them, without ever getting the chance to shoot back. For Calley and the others, every step they take in Pinkville seems like another gamble. And eventually they figure they're all going to lose. One Evening in mid January 1968, Callie and the rest of Charlie Company are sent out on another patrol deep in Quang Ngai. As night falls, Calley lies on his back beneath a low canopy of jungle trees and staring up at the slivers of sky above him. In the heavy moist air, Cali's uniform clings to him like a second skin. Mosquitoes whine around his ears, but he doesn't move. Charlie Company is camped on a hillside in a tight defensive circle, rifles close. There are no fires, and the usual nighttime gripes and banter are absent. In their place is nothing but silence. A small recon team went out earlier Just a few men sweeping ahead and they were supposed to be back before nightfall. But now the sun's gone and there's no sign of them. Qali grips his rifle a little tighter. Every creak of the jungle around him sounds like a warning or a threat. And then suddenly a blood curdling scream slices through the silence. Cally bolts upright, his heart pounding. Around him, heads snap toward the scream twisting and rising, high pitched and guttural and never ending. They all know what it is. The sound of one of their own being tortured. Callie's breath catches and his knuckles go white around his rifle. But there's nothing he can do. No one's stupid enough to go stumbling into the enemy's jungle in the dead of night. That's not bravery. That's suicide. So they all sit frozen, just listening to their friend dying and praying for it to stop. The hours crawl by. No one sleeps. But in the anonymous darkness Callie can hear at least one young man crying. Until finally dawn comes and the exhausted soldiers move out. It doesn't take long for Charlie Company to find one of the missing men. He's hanging from a bamboo pole, suspended like an animal having been flayed alive. The rest of the recon team is never found. After that night, Callie feels the change in attitude among his his platoon. Something hardens in the men. They all want revenge, but they don't know who to take it out on. They see the entire countryside as complicit. Every villager who offers them no help or refuses to divulge the location of Viet Cong weapons might as well be VC themselves. The very idea of civilians begins to lose its meaning altogether. The higher ups in Task Force Barter can see the men are growing frustrated. They assure the soldiers that there will be plenty of face to face combat in the future. They'll soon flush the Viet Cong out of hiding and deliver a decisive blow. But in the early hours of January 31, 1968, it's the enemy that strikes first. At 4am the men of Charlie Company are jolted awake in their bunks by explosions and the roar of gunfire. The nearby airfield and the local headquarters of the South Vietnamese army army are under attack. Similar scenes erupt all across South Vietnam as more than 70,000 Viet Cong and North Vietnamese troops launch a coordinated surprise attack. What will become known as the Tet Offensive. The aim of this operation is to trigger the total collapse of the U. S backed South Vietnamese government. It's the largest offensive in the war so far. Over 100 cities, towns and military bases are targeted the capital, Saigon, is hit. The border city of Hue is overrun, and American outposts all over the country are soon under siege. Days of heavy fighting follow. US And South Vietnamese forces ultimately manage to repel the attacks, inflicting heavy casualties on the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese in the process. But this is not a victory for the Americans and their allies. Although the Tet offensive did not achieve all its goals, the surprise attack is a strategic triumph for North Vietnam. Back in the United States, U.S. officials have been insisting that the war was near a turning point and that victory was within reach. But this Tet offensive has shattered that illusion and exposed the truth. America's enemy in Vietnam is more resilient, more organized, and more fearless than anyone in Washington is willing to admit. Despite everything that's been said publicly, many in the United States now begin to think that this war may be unwinnable. And on the ground in Pinkville, the Tet offensive only deepens the fear and anger felt by the men of task Force Barker. Lt. William Calley sees the attack as confirmation of everything he suspected since he arrived in Vietnam, everything he's been telling his men. The entire Quang Ngai province is the enemy's backyard, where the Viet Cong have friends in every village and can strike whenever they please. If that's the case, Qalli thinks there's only one thing left to to do. Hit them back. In late February 1968, Charlie Company heads out again into Quang Nai. The low sun casts long shadows as the soldiers search through yet another village. But there's no sign of the enemy. Just the same silent unease as always, interrupted only by the calls of jungle birds and distant bursts of gunfire. The men are tense, filthy, and exhausted. They have little sympathy as they herd a group of villagers out of their homes, cornering them against a fence. And Callie glares at them, his rifle slung across his chest and frustration radiating off of him. Who's in charge around here? Is it this guy? Callie grabs a thin old man by the arm and pulls him out of the crowd. This your village? Are you in charge? Tell me where the Viet Cong are. The old man blinks. He doesn't understand English. Callie turns to the unit's translator. Ask him, come on. Where are the Viet Cong? The translator speaks to the old man in Vietnamese. He replies softly, looking down at the ground. The translator turns back to Callie. He says he doesn't know. He says he's just a farmer. Yeah, yeah, they all say that, don't they? What about her? Callie grabs a younger woman from the line. The old man protests, but Callie shoves him aside. The translator tries to mediate. He says she's his daughter. Well, maybe she knows something. Something where? The Viet Cong. Viet Cong. You understand that? Viet Cong. The woman says nothing and enraged, C turns to his translator. Ask her who planted the mines. Three of my men died. Legs blown off and a rice patty only two clicks from here. Tell her that someone here must know something. There's another brief exchange of Vietnamese. C scowls impatiently. All right, what? What's she saying? She says she doesn't know about any mines or the Vietcong. They just farm here. Oh, for God's sakes. You know she's lying, sir. She's scared. So are my men. We've been in this hellhole for three months. You think it's a coincidence that we've never seen a single VC in these villages? Not one. While we keep getting shot at and blown apart. While we keep dying. They know. They're either helping the VC or they are vc. Sir. Please. They don't know. They're just civilians. This is Pinkville. No one is just anything here. William Calley spits in the dirt and walks off. The Vietnamese villagers avert their eyes. One of the soldiers mutters something under his breath while another lights a cigarette with shaking hands. They may not much like Callie, but they all see things his way now. The old man, the young woman. They're not harmless civilians. They know things that could save American lives, but they're choosing to say nothing. They're all in on it. They are all the enemy.
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Col. Frank Barker is the man in charge of the task force named after him. And by early March 1968, he is under immense pressure. The Tet offensive has rattled American military command and exposed just how fragile their grip in South Vietnam really is. Barker's orders are root out and destroy the Viet Cong in Quang Ngai province, especially the elusive 48th Local Force Battalion. The 48th has long been considered one of the most disciplined and deadly Viet Cong units, but US Forces have struggled to pin down their movements, let alone destroy them. Barker is convinced they're hiding out in Pinkville. That's the military's nickname for a cluster of rural hamlets around the My Lai area. If Barker had his way, he'd bring in bulldozers and flatten Pinkville entirely. But his repeated requests to do so have been denied. So now Barker has to find another way forward. But he knows the window for success is closing. Back home, newspapers are criticizing the war, and politicians in Washington are starting to demand progress reports and body counts. Barker and his superiors need a win, something they can point to as proof that the task force is turning the tide in Quang Ngai. But it's not going to be easy. Morale among the troops is low, and every casualty only ratchets up the pressure even more. But then Barker gets an intelligence report saying that The Viet Cong 48th Battalion is almost certainly near the village of My Lai, regrouping and gathering strength. Barker believes a surprise attack on the area could wipe them out. But while he plans the next move from the relative safety of task force headquarters, the men of Charlie Company are out in the field. They're putting their lives on the line day after day, and they're getting increasingly angry about the fact they're making no Progress. And on March 14, 1968, Lieutenant William Calley leads his men on another grueling patrol in hostile territory. Out of nowhere, there's an explosion. And then screaming. One of the most popular sergeants in the unit is blown to pieces, killed instantly by a booby trap hidden in the undergrowth. Two others have been caught in the blast, and their friends scramble to help as blood pools in the dirt. Dirty hands press against open wounds, but nothing the soldiers do seem to stop the bleeding. Thankfully, the medevac helicopter comes quickly. Both the wounded and the dead are hoisted above and whisked away into the sky. Sky. The rest of the men are left behind, staring up through the rotor wash. And when the jungle falls quiet again, it feels heavier than before. The march back to base is silent. There's no joking or chatter, just tight jaws, blank stares and Boots pounding the red dirt as the heat presses down along the roadside. A Vietnamese man pedals toward the soldiers on a rusted bicycle. He's thin, middle aged and looks like a farmer. Several soldiers step into his path. The man tries to stop, but before he can dismount, he is yanked off his bike and thrown to the ground. Immediately, the soldiers descend on him. They slam their boots into his chest and face. Someone smashes the butt of a rifle into his head. Miraculously, the farmer somehow manages to scramble away, battered and bleeding. As the Americans turn their backs and walk on down the road, fields stretch out on either side of them. A lone woman bends over in the rice paddies tending to her crop. She doesn't see the Americans at first. Then someone shouts and points at her, saying that she's got a weapon. The woman looks up from her work and sees soldiers raising their rifles. Shots echo across the field and the woman crumples in the mud. Immediately, a group of soldiers peel off from the rest and wade across the field to her. Her prone body. When they reach her, the woman is still breathing, but her hands are empty. There is no detonator or weapon. One of the soldiers pries a ring from her finger. Another kicks her before a third man shoots her dead. Then once again, the soldiers fall into line and resume their walk back to base. No one speaks or even breaks stride. But not long after Charlie Company reaches camp, a group of Vietnamese villagers gathered outside the perimeter. They saw what the American soldiers did to that woman in the field. Their faces are streaked with tears as they demand justice. Captain Ernest Medina steps in, backing up his men. He tells the villagers that the woman had a detonator, that she posed a threat. And then he goes on to tell the same story to his superiors. William Calley approves of the lie. In his mind, it's the right thing to do. Protect your men, no matter what. The next day, Lieutenant Colonel Frank Barker gathers his commanders for a critical briefing. Captain Ernest Medina is in attendance, along with the rest of the unit's leadership. This is a moment of transition for the 11th Infantry Brigade because they have a new commanding officer. Colonel Orrin Henderson steps in front of the assembled men and delivers a pep talk of sorts. He says that their next mission will be one of the most important of the war. Tomorrow they're going to root out and eliminate the Viet Cong in Pinkville once and for all. He urges his officers to push harder than they ever have before. He says recent operations have been too soft. Weapons have been left behind, allowing women and children to Collect them for the enemy. This can't happen again. From now on, they have to be ruthless. Then the task force's intelligence officer presents the reports. He says that all signs point to the hamlets of My Lai as a key stronghold for the Viet Cong's 48th Local Force Battalion. According to this officer, the area is crawling with enemy fighters and sympathizers. He adds that by the time the attack begins at 7:30 in the next morning, any true civilians should be already off to the market in Quang Ngai City. So anyone left behind should be considered hostile. Medina listens carefully, nodding along. After weeks of dead end patrols and unseen enemies, his men are finally being handed an actual target. He doesn't ask for clarification on civilian rules of engagement because he doesn't need to. The tone in the room says enough. This is their chance to deliver a real blow to the enemy, and Medina is determined not to let it slip away. As dusk settles over the base, the light takes on a strange and coppery hue. Inside the mess tent, Lieutenant Calley and his platoon sit hunched over trays, picking at cold rations. Other soldiers clean rifles, smoking cigarettes in silence. No one says much, because just a few hours earlier, news of yet another patrol being ambushed spread throughout the camp. Feels like any of them could be next. And when Captain Medina steps inside the mess tent, he notices the atmosphere immediately. Climbing onto a crate, he calls for his men to gather around. Okay, boys, before we talk business, let's. Let's bow our heads a moment for the ones we lost this week. The men all bow their heads in silence. Then Medina goes on. All right, I've got some news for you. We're moving out tomorrow. Mission drops at 0730. Destination Pinkville. Intel from recon says we'll be hitting a hot zone. Could be 250 VC dug in around My Lai. Could be more. One of the men pipes up. What's the mission, sir? Search and destroy. No half measures this time. You hit the ground, you clear the village. You mean engage, like sweep and secure? I mean search and destroy. What about civilians, sir? This isn't one of those villages full of friendly farmers. Intelligence says anyone we encounter will be VC or a VC sympathizer. Barker said it. No restrictions this time. So we light it all up. We light it all up. Look, I know you're all tired. I know you're angry. We've lost good men these past few months. But tomorrow we get to settle the score. Tomorrow we give some back. So eat up, rest up. We lock and load at dawn, William, Callie, and the other men of Charlie Company disperse into the night, carrying Captain Medina's words with them. After all the long months of pain and frustration, they're finally heading into battle. Callie can't wait. This is his chance to to prove himself a soldier and a leader of men, to earn Captain Medina's trust at last. And tomorrow morning, Calley's platoon will board helicopters bound for My Lai. And nothing about this war will ever be the same again. From wondering this is Episode one of the Massacre at My Lai for American Scandal. In our next episode, Lt. William Calley leads Charlie Company into My Lai. But within minutes, the mission turns into an unspeakable horror. If you'd like to learn more about the Massacre at My Lai, we recommend the books Vietnam 1968 and the Descent into Darkness by Howard Jones, Cover up by Seymour Hersh and the Forgotten Hero of the Hugh Thompson Story by Trent Angers. This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details. And while in most cases we can't know exactly what was said, all our dramatizations are based on historical research. American Scandal is hosted, edited and executive produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship Audio editing by Christian Paraga Sound design by Gabriel Gould Supervising Sound Designer Matthew Filler Music by Thrum this episode is written and researched by Alex Burns, fact checking by Alyssa Jung Perry Managing Producer Emily Burke, development by Stephanie Jens, Senior Producer Andy Beckerman and executive producers are William Simpson for Airship and Jenny Lauer, Beckman, Marshall Louie and Erin o'. Flaherty. For wondering.
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