Have a good look at this photo (attached) It shows an extraordinary level of bravery. The infantryman (Pte Len Ellecombe, a section commander of the 2nd D&E Platoon) mounted on an APC with nothing but his Armalite, is shooting at Viet Cong- remnants of a large force we had ambushed the night before. They had let loose with RPGs unsuccessfully, and became easy targets. Ellecombe killed two VC himself as they attempted to climb aboard the APC. He wasn’t mentioned in any bravery award talk. But in that reaction, Ellecombe summed up the fighting qualities that Cpl James Riddle had instilled in the men of the 2nd D&E Platoon where previous officers had done nothing of the sort. It’s part of the whole 2nd D&E Platoon enigma- and often ignored in the ramblings of those who know nothing about the platoon. But it is a good discussion point. So let’s forget about all the sensationalism surrounding the 2nd D&E Platoon matter for a second and take a step back and ask a question or two. Why did the battle to validate the platoon’s existence result in such vitriol from elements of the veteran community in Australia? Why were the 39 infantrymen who fought in that platoon pilloried to such an extent that many refused to admit they were part of it, some were reduced to psychological wrecks, and some (like me) vilified mercilessly for refusing to back down? In the early days, I understood some of the reaction. I mean, when you have a group of men claiming to have belonged to some ‘phantom’ platoon that doesn’t exist in any of the records of the war, and then fuel the fire by claiming that it was one of the most successful sub-units of the war, one can understand why some veterans wouldn’t have a bar of it and come after you wielding baseball bats. A ‘fantasy’ they said. Of course, one could expect this reaction from the ‘pogos’- the non-combatants who did their own jobs supporting the frontline troops as best they could, but at the same time know very well that there was a vast difference between spending a tour as an infantryman and a year in a Q-store folding blankets or pushing a pen in the orderly room. So yes, they knew that their service paled next to the man who put his life on the line every day- and the last thing they wanted to hear was that a group of them were claiming even greater deeds that the norm. I guess it’s to do with ego, and having to live with the knowledge that your contribution to the war, while essential, was somewhat tame- a far cry from the hard yards spent slogging through mangroves or paid-fields or thorny bamboo or the harshest of jungle environments. They do have to live with that all their lives. And they don’t like being reminded of it. I have spoken to many former ex-infantry officers of substantial rank who also agree with this sentiment but know full well not to say it out loud. There is always a backlash when anyone says what they really think and not bow to peer pressure. But the reaction from fellow infantrymen- now, that was much harder to understand. I think it was the 4RAR rabble who mounted the greatest opposition- despite the fact that all 39 of us had served in that battalion before it sailed home. Rather than respect the fact that we had contributed to their efforts in the field, substituting for battalion members who had been killed or wounded, they didn’t want to know that what we’d done in the 2nd D&E Platoon in just a few weeks of Operation had so much more substance than what most of them had experienced in a full twelve-month tour. Men like Alan Price and Tom Douglas and Gary Sloane squealed like stuck pigs at the outrage. Some, even those we had shared combat with, called us ‘conspiracy theorists’ and ignored any evidence we presented. Better to think the worst of your old ‘mates’ than think they might have risen to a greater height than you did. And then, there was the gutless element- men so devoid of any true substance of manhood that they slunk in the shadows like Bob Buick and Keith Tennant and threw their rocks in the vain hope that by doing so, their own false heroics might never be uncovered. They were wrong about that. And what came of it all? Well, in the first instance, the federal government admitted in 2008 that the 2nd D&E Platoon had existed, and issued a formal edict to that effect from Parliament House. Secondly, the layers of corruption and deceit were slowly peeled away and the facts emerged. Records falsified. Documents destroyed. Cover-ups. Even today, 45 years afterwards, the establishment is so determined to hide the true story of why the 2nd D&E Platoon was created and just as quickly dispersed (despite a kill rate higher than any other unit in its short existence and not one of our own killed or wounded in the process) that it still keeps 235 documents held in the Australian War Memorial away from prying eyes. So what was it about the 2nd D&E Platoon (other than its relative success) that created so much resentment and jealousy even within infantry ranks? I suspect it was the very fact that a platoon being led by a former English Marine - a Corporal no less - and operating on APCs so much more efficiently than the traditional method of jungle warfare, ‘bush barging’, was the reason. The poor old traditionalists running the Battalions couldn’t stand seeing a platoon of regular infantrymen scoring such success while they scratched around in the dirt picking up the odd kill here and there- and suffering casualties while they did so. Couldn’t have a rag-tag ad hoc platoon of ‘foul-mouthed animals led by a mercenary’ (as Capt Lawrence of the Armoured Corps reportedly told Major Gorge Pratt) showing the old-school officers a new way of jungle fighting. Or as Cpl Jim Riddle so succinctly put it, 'We were so embarrassingly good they couldn't bear it', or words to that effect. So, the dogs were let out to bark and do their best to drag the successes of the 2nd D&E Platoon down. And drag down the reputations of the 39 men who served in it, as well. It hasn't worked so far.