SGT Richard Walter Diers: A LRRP’s Final Mission on the Borderlands of War

KIA – November 20, 1968

Some men are remembered for the lives they lived; others are remembered for the lives they were willing to give. Sergeant Richard Walter Diers, a young reconnaissance specialist from Pinellas Park, Florida, belongs to both. His story begins along the Gulf Coast, unfolds in the shadowed jungles of Vietnam, and ends on a mission deep in enemy territory—one of countless lost quietly during the long, difficult years of the war.

A Florida Beginning

Born December 19, 1947, Richard grew up in Pinellas Park, a working-class community in Florida’s Pinellas County. It was a place where service was common, duty was expected, and families watched the Vietnam conflict grow from a distant conflict into an unavoidable reality.

Friends remembered him as steady and good-natured—quiet in some ways, determined in others. Like so many young men of the late 1960s, he felt the pull of a responsibility larger than himself. When he enlisted in the United States Army through the Regular Military, he did so not out of compulsion, but conviction.

The Army found in him a soldier with a sharp mind, discipline, and potential. And before long, those qualities would place him in one of the most dangerous assignments of the war.

Becoming a Soldier

Richard trained as an Infantry Operations and Intelligence Specialist, a role requiring strong analytical skills and a calm head under pressure. Intelligence soldiers served as the eyes and ears of commanders, helping plan missions, track enemy activity, and analyze patterns hidden in the chaos of war.

But for Richard, intelligence wasn’t something viewed from afar. His path placed him with the men who gathered information firsthand—often miles beyond the safety of friendly lines.

On May 1, 1967, he arrived in Vietnam. He was assigned to F Company, 51st Infantry (Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol), II Field Force Vietnam. The men of the LRRPs were small teams operating deep in the wilderness, observing enemy movements in places few others dared to go. Their missions were silent, dangerous, and essential.

The World of the LRRP

Quiet Footsteps, Heavy Burdens

Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol soldiers lived in a world few outside their ranks fully understood. Teams of four to six men operated for days at a time in dense jungle, enemy-controlled regions, or the remote borderlands of Cambodia and Laos.

Their task was not to seize ground, but to find the enemy, track his movements, and avoid detection at all costs.

LRRP work demanded:

• absolute silence

• careful navigation

• endurance under extreme conditions

• trust between teammates

• the willingness to be vastly outnumbered

They were among the most exposed American soldiers in Vietnam. Missions often pushed them into areas where contact was not just possible—it was expected.

Richard embraced that responsibility. His promotion to Sergeant reflected both leadership and character—qualities essential when guiding small teams into the unknown.

A Year Marked by Danger

By late 1968, the war had reached one of its most volatile periods. Following the Tet Offensive and subsequent battles, NVA forces intensified operations along the Cambodian and Laotian border routes. These infiltration corridors fed the war throughout South Vietnam.

LRRP teams were sent to monitor them.

The terrain was unforgiving: thick jungle, steep slopes, spiderwebs of trails, and hidden encampments. The enemy moved quietly and in large numbers. For LRRP teams, a single misstep could bring overwhelming force down upon them.

This was the world into which SGT Richard Walter Diers walked each day.

November 20, 1968

A Mission That Did Not Return

The official casualty report states that on November 20, 1968, SGT Diers died from hostile fragmentation wounds sustained during a mission noted as occurring “in Laos, Hua Nghia province.” Recon missions in these regions were often classified, and precise details were rarely recorded in full.

But what remains clear is that the mission carried him deep into danger—far beyond the reach of immediate support.

LRRP teams typically operated hours or even days from friendly forces. If discovered, they faced ambushes, mortars, grenade attacks, booby traps, and close-range firefights with no easy escape.

Richard was mortally wounded during such an encounter. He was 20 years old.

He died doing the work entrusted only to the most capable and disciplined soldiers—men sent where others could not go, men whose service was measured not in headlines but in the quiet successes that saved lives across the theater.

A Comrade’s Words

A Loss Still Felt

While records provide facts, the reality of that day is best captured in the brief testimony of fellow LRRP team member John D. Chichester, who left behind a few lines describing the moment they lost him:

“It was a bad day.
You were wounded badly.
Nothing could be done.
I tried so damn hard.”

In those simple sentences is the weight of a lifetime—the truth of what it meant to serve in small teams where every man’s survival depended on the others.

His words say more than any report ever could. They speak to brotherhood, to helplessness in the face of overwhelming odds, and to the burden survivors carried long after leaving Vietnam.

A Name Carved Into Memory

For his service, SGT Diers’ name is inscribed on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C.—one of more than 58,000 Americans who never returned home. But the real measure of a soldier’s life lies not in stone alone.

It remains in the memories of those who served with him.
It lives in the family who received the heartbreaking news in 1968.
It stands in the quiet recognition of all who understand the sacrifice made by the young in Vietnam.

His service number, training records, and assignment details form a part of the historical record. Yet the most important legacy is the example he set—of dedication, competence, and courage in one of the most demanding roles the Army could ask of a soldier.

The Measure of a LRRP

Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol soldiers carried responsibilities beyond their years. Their missions informed commanders, guided battalions, and prevented countless casualties by revealing enemy movements before they struck.

Their success came at great personal risk.

SGT Richard Walter Diers embraced that risk fully.

He completed mission after mission, walked into unknown terrain, and placed the safety of others above his own. His service represents the quiet professionalism shared by LRRP teams across Vietnam—a professionalism rarely recognized at the time, but deeply respected by those who know what it entailed.

A Life Cut Short, A Memory Preserved

Richard Walter Diers never returned to Florida. He never celebrated his 21st birthday. He never lived the decades of life stolen by a single moment of war.

But what he left behind endures.

He left behind the example of a young man who stepped forward when duty called.
He left behind a record of service in one of the war’s most elite reconnaissance units.
He left behind teammates who remembered him not as a statistic, but as a brother.

More than fifty-five years later, we remember him still.

We Honor Him

SGT Richard Walter Diers served his country in silence, in danger, and in the deep shadows of the borderlands where few Americans ever walked. He gave everything he had on November 20, 1968.

Today we say his name, tell his story, and ensure his sacrifice is not forgotten.

SGT Richard Walter Diers
United States Army
F Company (LRRP), 51st Infantry
II Field Force
Killed in Action – November 20, 1968

His life mattered. His service endures. His memory remains.