All language subtitles for VIETNAM - True Horrors of MACV-SOG In Vietnam

On January 24th, 1964,

the Pentagon activated the most

classified military unit in American

history. They had no official existence.

Their missions were denied by the US

government and their casualty rate was

over 100%. That means every single

operator who joined this unit was

guaranteed to be wounded. Many multiple

times. Some never came home at all. This

is the story of MV SOG, the studies and

observations group. A unit so lethal

they achieved a 158 to1 kill ratio. So

dangerous that enemy forces created

specialized countertracking teams just

to hunt them down. and so secret. Their

families were told they died in training

accidents when they disappeared behind

enemy lines.

Before we dive into the darkness, you

need to understand what these men were

walking away from.

In the early 1960s,

America was deeply divided over Vietnam.

While thousands of young men were being

drafted and sent to fight a war they

didn't understand, a small group of

volunteers were raising their hands for

something far more deadly. These weren't

your average soldiers. M VOG recruited

from the absolute best. Navy Seals,

Green Berets, Marine Force Recon, Air

Force commandos, even CIA operatives.

But here's what separated them from

everyone else. They volunteered three

times. First for military service, then

for special forces, and finally for MAC

V SOG. By the time you made it through

the selection, you knew exactly what you

were signing up for. The briefing was

unlike anything in conventional military

service. You'd be told your life

expectancy was measured in weeks, not

years. that you had an 85% chance of

becoming a casualty within 3 months and

your odds of surviving one year were one

in 4,000. Your missions, crossber

operations into Laos, Cambodia, and

North Vietnam, places the US government

publicly claimed no American forces were

operating. Your targets included the

Hochi Min trail, enemy supply depots,

and North Vietnamese command centers.

you'd be outnumbered hundreds to one,

sometimes thousands to one. In November

1968, a six-man MCV SOG team engaged an

enemy force of 30,000 soldiers. They

survived. Most rational people heard

those odds and walked away. But the men

who stayed weren't operating on logic

anymore. They were driven by something

deeper. a belief that conventional

warfare wasn't winning the war, that

someone had to go where others wouldn't,

that this was the only way to truly hurt

the enemy. The moment you crossed that

threshold, everything changed. Your

identity was stripped away. No dog tags,

no patches, no ID cards. You carried

weapons with serial numbers filed off.

War tiger stripe camouflage identical to

South Vietnamese forces. Some teams even

carried enemy weapons to confuse the

opposition. And if you were captured,

the US government would deny you ever

existed. Missions typically ran 7 to 10

days. Deep insertion by helicopter, then

complete radio silence unless you were

compromised. The jungle itself was the

first enemy. Triple canopy rainforest so

thick you couldn't see the sky. Where a

wrong step could send you tumbling down

a mountain. where every sound could mean

death. But you weren't alone. Mvog teams

included indigenous fighters,

Montineyard tribesmen from the central

highlands, Nung mercenaries from the

Chinese border. These weren't

auxiliaries. They were full teammates

who often saved American lives. The

relationship was built on absolute

trust. Americans called them the little

people with deep respect. These fighters

knew the jungle better than anyone and

could track enemy movements by the

smallest signs.

>> And he he he I remember him saying uh uh

SOG uh other people say no. They said

highly classified unit, but I remember

saw and um but anyway, he says we have

this program uh in Vietnam in his

special operations group and um um you

need to be 11F to go. That was your MOS

and um

that was hard. You had to be a senior

NCO, but we were going to let this small

group of us do it. There's 37 of us and

uh uh but then the proviso at the end of

it he says at the end of this all of you

people all graduates are going to be

sent directly to Vietnam to SOG and uh

85% of you will be dead in 3 months.

So the first thing I did is I went back

and said well how many do you have to

start with if every 3 months 85% die and

it's over 4,000. So, the odds of living

a year in SOG back then was one in uh

4,000, assuming, you know, he wasn't

just trying to scare us. But the

experiences in in Vietnam and what we

went through was horrendous. Um our odds

of living was one in 4,000. And uh it

was so unique that when you come out on

the other end, you're not the same

person again.

>> But indigenous allies weren't the only

unusual partnerships. M vogg attracted a

different breed of American warrior,

too. World War II and Korean War

veterans volunteered to fight alongside

20-year-olds. Men like Larry Thorne, a

Finnish war hero who'd fought the

Soviets, then joined the US Army. He

became SOG's first MIA in Laos. The

missions themselves violated every rule

of conventional warfare. You weren't

there to hold ground. You were there to

gather intelligence, snatch prisoners,

and call in air strikes on targets that

officially didn't exist. Teams would

plant seismic sensors along the Ho Chi

Min trail. These devices fed data to

orbiting aircraft, tracking enemy troop

movements in real time. MACV SOG

provided 75% of all intelligence on

enemy activity along the trail. When

sensors detected a major convoy, you'd

call in arc light strikes. B-52 bombers

that turned entire grid squares into

moonscapes. The results were

devastating. In 1970, MV SOG achieved a

158 to1 kill ratio, the highest in US

military history. But that ratio came at

a cost. The North Vietnamese Army wasn't

stupid. They knew SOG teams were

operating in their territory. And they

adapted. They created specialized

counter SOG units. Professional trackers

whose only job was hunting American

recon teams. These weren't regular

infantry. They were the enemy's version

of special forces. And they were

terrifyingly good at their job. A

trained tracker could tell if you were

American by examining your feces, the

different diet, the different gut

bacteria. It left a signature.

So SOG operators ate local food, drank

local water, smoked Vietnamese

cigarettes, anything to mask their

presence. But even that wasn't always

enough. Teams would be compromised and

hunted for days, running through the

jungle with hundreds of enemy soldiers

on their trail. The extraction

helicopters that came to save them often

took heavy fire. Some teams ran so hard,

so long that they had to be carried onto

the helicopters, their feet destroyed,

dehydrated, barely conscious. Nine men

from Mac Vogg received the Medal of

Honor. Nine in a unit that at its peak

numbered only around 2,000 Americans. To

put that in perspective, that's one

Medal of Honor for every 222 SOG

operators. The US military as a whole in

Vietnam had one Medal of Honor recipient

per 7,000 soldiers.

Let me tell you about one mission that

shows you what these men faced. May 2nd,

1968,

Master Sergeant Roy Benavid heard that a

12man SOG team was surrounded and taking

casualties in Cambodia. Benvadez wasn't

on the mission. He was at the forward

operating base. But when he heard that

radio call, he grabbed his medical bag

and jumped on an extraction helicopter.

What happened next lasted 6 hours. Bonav

jumped from the helicopter into a

firestorm. He was immediately shot, then

hit by grenade shrapnel, then

bayonetted, then shot again. Over the

next 6 hours, he was wounded 37 times.

Gunshots, shrapnel, bayonet wounds. He

made multiple trips between wounded men

and the helicopter, dragging them to

safety while under continuous fire. When

the extraction helicopter finally lifted

off, Benvidz was so covered in blood

that the medic zipped him into a body

bag. He was presumed dead. Then he spat

in the medic's face to show he was still

alive. That's the caliber of warrior M.

Visog produced. men who refused to die

when any rational person would have

given up. But heroism has a price that

doesn't show up in afteraction reports.

The psychological toll was immense.

You'd watch teammates die in your arms.

You'd make impossible decisions about

who to save when extraction was

compromised. You'd survive when better

men didn't. In 1968 alone, every single

MAC V SOG recon man was wounded at least

once. About half were killed. The unit

maintained a 100% casualty rate for its

entire existence.

And the worst part, when you came home,

you couldn't talk about it. Unlike World

War II veterans who returned to parades,

SOG operators came home to a country

that despised them. But they couldn't

even defend themselves. Their missions

were classified. They couldn't tell

anyone where they'd been or what they'd

done. So, they buried it, went back to

normal life, carried those secrets for

decades. Some teammates were listed as

killed in training accidents. Their

families never knew they died in Laos or

Cambodia because officially no Americans

were there. 58 MV SOG operators remain

missing in action in Laos. Their bodies

never recovered. Only one POW from Laos

ever returned alive. It took until 2001

for the US government to formally

recognize Misog's existence and

sacrifice.

President Bush awarded the unit the

presidential unit citation 37 years

after the unit was created. Decades too

late for many who never made it home.

But for the survivors, that recognition

meant everything. It meant they could

finally tell their families the truth.

That their nightmares had been real,

that their wounds had meaning. The

legacy lives on in today's special

operations. JSOC Delta Force DEVGRU.

They all study MACV SOG tactics. The

equipment, strategies, and mindset that

SOG developed became the foundation for

modern special operations.

Today, jungles where they fought are

quiet. The Ho Chi Min Trail is a tourist

destination. The classified bases have

been reclaimed by the jungle. But the

lessons remain. M. V. SOG proved that a

small number of highly trained warriors

operating in complete secrecy could

achieve strategic effects far beyond

their numbers. 2,000 Americans, a 158:1

kill ratio. responsible for 75% of all

intelligence on enemy operations. But it

also proved the cost of such operations,

the psychological damage, the families

who never got closure, the men who came

home but never really left the jungle.

The survivors carry those memories

still. They meet annual share stories

that still can't be fully told. Honor

the teammates who didn't make it.

There's an old saying in the special

operations community. Those who know

don't talk. Those who talk don't know.

Mackie sneew. And for decades they

didn't talk. But their actions spoke

louder than words ever could.