Yellow 3 is on "FIRE"

[727Sky]

“YELLOW THREE IS ON FIRE,” said the matter of fact voice transmitted over VHF comm radio #1. After checking the fire warning light on the forward instrument panel, which was supposed to illuminate if their was a fire in the engine compartment, Sky pressed the intercom to speak to his Crew chief on the left side of the aircraft.

“Chief, are we on fire,” Sky questioned ?
“Uh, dunno, let me check,” was the Chief's reply.

As Sky waited for the Chief's report and with his head turned to the left one of Yellow Flight's lift birds (called a slick) came auto-rotating into the shallow water and elephant grass very close to Sky's own aircraft. With some satisfaction Sky realized this was the bird on fire and not his 915 or Yellow 3 slick, A very large orange fire ball was burning up and through the engine cowling covering for the engine compartment just behind the particle separator of Yellow 4. As the bird settled into the water and the fuel switch was turned off the orange fireball disappeared into a bunch of grayish black smoke. .


The VHF, UHF, and Fox Mike, radios were full of what seemed like most of all the 8 ships in this flight transmitting, “We are taking fire, One !”


This was the flight's second attempt into this Landing Zone (LZ) to pick up the last remaining troops in Cambodia. The first attempt had not been successful either as they had been shot at from behind what seem like every tree until “Yellow One” finally pulled pitch and the flight departed; still without even seeing the friendly troops they were to extract.


Since Yellow 4 had been the bird on fire and not yellow 3 Sky sat at a hover while Yellow 4's aircraft commander transmitted on UHF (thinking he was on intercom) for his crew to grab their weapons and get out of their disable machine. The words he chose were a little more like, “ Grab the machine guns and let's get to F outta here” !


When he had transmitted those choice words he had not realized he was on UHF and talking to the world therefore his voice was just one more voice in a sea of voices all transmitting on the three different radios about some sort of distressing news about Yellow flight.


Yellow 4's Crew Chief and Door Gunner most likely did not hear their aircraft commander's evacuation order but even so they needed no prodding to grab their Sh*t and get away from their burning, sinking UH-1, that now sat in a Hot LZ.


( A Hot LZ is a landing zone where the bad guys try to punch holes with their weapons into whatever catches their eyes. This tends to discourage you with their many weapons and hostile actions from delaying your departure. It is also implied by their actions that you should not come back. A slick is a big target but we were young, bold, and almost bullet proof until we weren't; so there we were.)


Sky just sat at a hover waiting for Yellow 4's crew to come through the muck, waste high in the water to the perceived safety of 915 and a way out of a beautiful LZ with many bad guys wanting to shoot important pieces of their bodies off.


To help Yellow 4's crew Sky dipped 915's skids below the water while thinking if he went much lower 915 would get a tail rotor strike (thus a failure) so then they would all be stranded.


Yellow 4's crew trudged over to 915's cargo bay and once everyone was on board Sky pulled pitch to depart. He was the last aircraft out of the LZ and as of yet he had not seen or even heard anyone shooting at them.


This was a horrible mission as the slicks could not return fire into the tree line with their M-60 machine guns because no one knew where the friendlies were.


This was Cambodia and all of the first Cav's missions were flown low level at tree top level or lower usually around 90 to 100 knots. The missions were flown this way to avoid long periods of time exposed to a bad guys gun sights and aiming ability with some sort of weapon meant to cause death and destruction on one's body and bird. This tactic worked even though you could hear a slick from very far away and a whole gaggle of slicks just that much further; triple canopy or dense jungle was your friend and helped conceal you until you crashed due to an engine failure or whatever ?


As Sky rejoined the flight that was headed to LZ Bronco he was amazed to see his fellow slicks looking like some kind of WW2 B-17 war movie with the way some of the birds were riddled with gun shot holes.. There was one bird on Sky's right that had a new guy ( FNG right seater/copilot) waving at everyone through his shot out wind screen. They had taken 5 rounds in the cockpit yet no one was hit bodily.


A UH-1 could take an unbelievable amount of punishment depending on where the punishment was dished out. Birds were often times landed back at base with holes punched in their skin from nose to tail; those kind of missions usually made for one hell of a war story that night in the bunker bar. There were other times when fate would let you know just how worthless it valued your feelings with one well placed round (the dreaded Golden BB) that would send you crashing through the jungle or auto-rotating into an open field or rice paddy. The jungle could be very annoying as the trees seem to hate you invading their space so they would come through the wind screen and any other place they could find to rearrange your face and internal organs rather rudely; think of a coat hanger up a hot dogs butt for roasting to give you some idea.

There was a lot of chatter on the radios enroute to LZ Bronco about the status of the aircraft each was flying nest to.


“Ah Two, I count six hits left side of your tail boom, all clear of the tail rotor drive shaft”.


“Roger 3 you look clean on your right”. “Click click” was heard as Sky keyed his mike in response.


Radio transmissions continued with light chatter and bantering. Life was good and this war was just something they all did together. No one had been hurt and they had not left anyone in their lift flight back in the LZ screaming on the radio as they burned to death.


Being burned to death is a very bad way to die.


Sky knew they were going to go back to the same hot LZ and once again try to get the troops stranded there out but that was in the future not now.


Unfortunately President Nixon had announced to the world via a white house statement and news briefing all troops would be out of Cambodia this very day no later than 18:30 hours. Of course the North Vietnamese heard the same thing and passed the message on to their troops in Cambodia.


I could have written that message to the NVA myself. “Stay close, no contact, wait until helicopters land and begin to load their troops. Then destroy everything. If any prisoners are taken tie them to a tree, skin them alive and make them say Uncle Ho many times as they die”.


It was just a passing thought as Sky was more interested in 915s engine and transmission instruments. He scanned them constantly either directly or out of the corner of his eyes watching for the first indication that all was not well with this assortment of moving parts he affectionately called 915. This particular lift bird and Sky had gone through many combat missions together and 915 always pulled her heart out for him and the crew bringing them back to base alive.


The flight continued on in an southeasterly direction in a loose formation more or less behind the Killer Spade yellow one. It was only a 20 minute flight back to LZ Bronco where they would land and be able to shut down their aircraft and inspect for damage.

LZ Bronco


LZ Bronco was a very small fire support base with only 5 105 Howitzers. The LZ was just inside the Vietnamese border with Cambodia and was there solely to support the troops that were now some 5 clicks inside Cambodia. There were already signs that the base was being dismantled and once the flight could get the remaining troops out of Cambodia, Bronco would cease to be anything but a memory.


Bronco's radio operator could hear the now 7 lift birds and the two Snakes (Bell AH-1 Cobra gun ships) long before he got a visual on the flight. Yellow one called on Fox Mike that the flight was inbound and requested any landing information available.


“Bronco this is, Yellow flight, LZ advisory over”.


“Yellow one this is Bronco.... suggest you guys land mostly on the west side or where ever you can find a spot...not much wind but suggest a southerly approach...uh, over”.


“Roger copy that, we are 2 miles out”.

[727Sky]

The flight of 7 slicks split up and slowed down while looking for a spot around the small fire base to land. Landing would require some rather delicate maneuvering and close in hovering if any of the flight were going to all fit somewhere within the confines of Bronco's berm. (Berm is the perimeter and clear cut area around and in some cases inside the constantina wire of the base). The Snakes would not be landing as they were going to Bu Dop to refuel and rearm as necessary. After a little jousting and hovering Bronco ended up with three lift birds on the west side, two on the north side and 2 on the east side of the base.


Sky after landing, rolled the throttle off to flight idle and hit the countdown clock for 915s required two minute cool down of the engine. He then opened his side door and placed his booted foot in the “V” between the door and 915's fuselage; using that place as a foot rest he observed the aircraft commander (AC) of Yellow 2 walk around the side and tail of his bird looking for damage beside the bullet holes Sky had reported. Yellow Two's AC was like most old guys in the flight (old being maybe 23 years of age as it was not the age but the time in country that counted) with a long handle bar mustache, faded Nomex flight suit with a CW1 rank on his shoulders. His only personal carry weapon was an Army issue 38 revolver which was carried in a shoulder holster whose straps crisscrossed his back. It was rumored that the 38 and the yellow Cav patch would be enough to strike fear in any enemy... Sky certainly had his doubts with that saying though...


As the Yellow 2 AC bent down you could see his silver Aircraft Commander's chain swing away from his body, The chain was of tightly woven Chrome metal with a silver sheen and was fastened to the center zipper of the flight suit. The other end was fastened to a little booklet called the S.O.I. Or standard operating procedures booklet which was carried in the left breast pocket of the flight suit. Other times there was a super secret Whiz wheel (that is what we called it, but the Army had a very long detail name for the P.O.S) that was affixed to the chain to decode and send coded messages over a radio frequency.


It had been determined by S2 of the great American military Puzzle Palace that the First Carvery was giving away to many secrets over VHF, UHF, and the FM radios to the enemy. So, S2, in their great wisdom, decided the lift birds would use different call signs each mission. So instead of saying, “One we are heading to Bu Dop” you would say, after consulting the whiz wheel. “ Two kilo alpha, this is Zulu Bravo tango, I set 8 delta”. * 8 Delta * was the key setting for one's whiz wheel which had to be set to for decoding. “ Roger 8 Delta set” would hopefully be One's reply. Then you could send your long drawn out message as a code. The Whiz wheels were changed everyday and the old ones from the prior day were burned. No one used this nonsense as we had briefings before a mission or we just played follow the leader to a landing like good little sky soldiers. Single ship missions you did not talk much to the ground troops except to tell them to pop smoke and here I come !


Our two Snakes today were Delta 21 and Delta 23 who were trying to protect the slicks. They had not been any help with the hot LZ because no one could locate the friendlies who were afraid to pop smoke and give away their positions...... so the Snakes made fake gun runs while the lift birds got shot up.


Back to LZ Bronco

Sky was just sat there waiting for 915s two minute cool down as a North Vietnamese mortar tube made a final adjustment and let fly their airborne bombs. As fast as the NVA loaders could drop the mortars into the mortar tube the weapon or weapons belched forth their large explosive shells. It surely took a few seconds for the first three rounds to complete the great lobbing arc through the air; probably around the time Yellow 2s Aircraft commander was squatting down to check the underside of his aircraft's tail boom was when the mortar shells had been fired. The first round hit an estimated 40 feet to the left of Yellow 2s bird and the next two rounds impacted on Bronco, so not so close to the birds as the first round.


Sky's first reaction was to marvel at the burrowing ability of Yellow 2s AC and then as the first shrapnel, dirt. And dust pinged 915 Sky asked himself, “Did I shut this thing down yet”?


As Sky was trying to figure out if 915 was still running the Yellow 2 slick took off straight up with the FNG new guy at the controls and transmitting, “Mayday Mayday Mayday” on UHF 243.0 guard frequency.


Not only had the FNG left his aircraft commander on the ground chewing a fox hole with his teeth but his uncoordinated lift off had almost made his tail boom contact 915s rotor blades as there had been less than 3 feet of clearance at most between the two birds spinning/turning parts..


As more mortar rounds landed Sky finally figured out 915 was still running even though she was at idle. He started rolling on the throttle without over temping the engine and was starting to get enough rotor RPM to get 915 up on the toe of her skids. Now that there was possibly enough room he would try to make a running take off from LZ Bronco.


As the burrowing AC of Yellow 2 saw his FNG depart with “HIS” aircraft and Yellow three starting to build up a head of steam and noise for lift off a voice in his head evidently told him to get up and catch a ride with 915 as the KRUMP of impacting mortar rounds spurred him on to a burst of speed an Olympic athlete would have been proud of. He had sprang from the dirt and dove into 915s cargo hole. Sky did not see him and the first indication of Yellow 2s AC was on board was a loud Thump Sky could hear through his tight fitting helmet. He turned his head in time to see the warrant officer holding his side and struggling to get to the cockpit area as 915 clawed for air. About this time Yellow 2s FNG was on the radio hollering about being a New Guy who was airborne but did not know which way to go. He went on and on about how LZ Bronco was getting mortared and how he would circle at altitude Etc. Etc. “ Mayday, Mayday, Mayday”!


The now displaced Yellow 2 aircraft commander finally made it between Sky and Bobby Bad Back and pointed while saying, “Follow that aircraft”!


Sky smiled and nodded while he keyed his mike trigger to tell the FNG to relax and get off the radio. “Just follow us to Bu Dop....Ahhh not to close New Guy.... STAY BACK”!


When yellow 2s AC had jumped into 915's cargo hole the aircraft was probably already do 5 to 10 knots across the ground while trying to achieve translational lift. 2's AC made the opening to the cargo hole but was slammed into the aft bench seat leg rest. As Sky looked at this poor dirty Warrant Officer Sky knew this AC was madder than most people could imagine by some of the comments he was making about his FNG right seater. Sky just smiled with his eyes under the dark visor of his helmet as he thought “ I would not want to be Killer Spades' Yellow 2s FNG when we get to Bu Dop”.


The flight to Bu Dop was uneventful so after refueling and shutting down 915 and waiting for the rotor blade to coast to a stop Sky exited the aircraft. He, Bobby, The Door Gunner and Crew Chief all did a very intense and complete walk around inspection of 915. All they found were 4 small holes midway up the vertical fin which supports the tail rotor and its' drive shaft. 915 was still good to go.


There seemed to be some sort of commotion down the flight line where the lift birds had parked and in the general vicinity of the now parked former Yellow 2 bird. From Sky's vantage point it looked like a couple of Warrant Officers were holding Yellow 2s Aircraft Commander's arms behind him as he jumped, kicked, and jerked trying to get his hands on his new guy FNG right seater who had left him at LZ Bronco. Sky realized at this distance if gunfire broke out he would just duck behind 915 and wait “whatever” out.


This had been a weird day from the start. That morning in the hot darkness of his mosquito net covered cot Sky had been awakened by his platoon leader and assigned his “task” for the day. He was to continue getting Bobby Bad Back ready for Aircraft commander by letting him fly left seat when circumstances permitted. Sky's mission today would start with him joining up with a Killer Spade flight leader at Bu Dop before 08:00 and forming a lift company to pull the remaining troops out of Cambodia .


Sky realized as soon as he was told that “lead” would be a Killer Spade instead of his own companies lift birds evidently the great planners of this days endeavors expected the flight to be in some serious Sh!t. Ever since Bravo Company (call sign “CHICKEN MAN”) got their butts blown away in the first two weeks of Cambodia the planners decided to take two or three birds from each company to make up a flight of lift birds. This arrangement was usually only done when there was expected to be enemy action and the possibility some of the slicks getting shot down. Some days, if only for one mission, a large flight of slicks would be led by a different company. The lead ship might be a Killer Spade (Alpha Company), Bravo Company (Chicken Man) or Charley Company (Ghost Riders). Delta company was exclusively our gun ship company that went with us into harms way when we might need covering fire by our gunships.


Before Bravo company's decimation (and another little engagement that got Charley Company at an LZ that became known as Shakey's Hill ) each company usually flew together with their own people. All the Aircraft Commanders and New guys lived together in the same one or two sand bagged living areas. Because they lived and fought together they could more or less read each others thoughts and were one hell of a tight knit fighting force. Weaklings never led a flight much less became an Aircraft commander.


After his morning brief and wake up call Sky was dressed and walking in the darkness to the revetment that protected his ride for today who would be Aircraft 915. His thoughts were more on possibly deflating Bobby Bad Back's ego that what mission they would be flying today. Sky knew how the Killer Spade boys ran their flights; usually down wind seemed to be a normal approach procedure for them. The way they did things were a function of staying alive in Ta Nin province which was their normal area of operation (AO).


It was almost a given if Killer Spade tried to work in Ghost Rider's AO they got their noses bloodied and how conversely the Ghost Riders from Phuc Vhin would suffer the same while working in the Killer Spades A.O..


Each company had suffered minimal losses since the first day of the Cambodian operations. Ghost Riders had lost two aircraft with crew as had Alpha company Killer Spades. The first Cav could always get the boys new aircraft replacements so a bird lost with no one hurt really didn't matter all that much as it might just turn into another good war story. However, death mattered for all the reasons it has mattered through out all of history . When an outfit like Bravo Company got mostly blown away and lost their old guy aircraft commanders it was a very hard time for them to rebuild an effective lift company without going out and crashing birds on a weekly basis.


I think it was standard procedure in all the Companies of the 227th that any New Guy (usually referred by the title of FNG...the F part of the FNG you can use you imagination of what the F stands for ) had to have 350 hours flight time with the unit before he could be recommended for Aircraft Commander. Even after the required time there was no guarantee you would ever make Aircraft Commander if you were deemed a weak pilot who could get people killed. These weak Dicks would become permanent right seat copilots with extra duties of something like “Cut the Grass Officer, Pest control Officer, or even sometimes safety officer”.


Some of the safety officers were afraid of everything. Since most of them could not fly they were wonderful people when it came to making up reasons why something could not be done or had to be done a certain way. They were given a type writer and a way of communicating with other safety officers on safety related problems. It was great for the pilots of a unit because we never saw any of these safety officers work unless it had been filtered, changed and made appropriate by the Battalion Safety officer who was usually there because he was old and had survived being a combat aviator. Since the mission of the First Cav was really a “NO SH*T” fighting unit, the Army B.S. was usually kept a bay- never far away, but held back by, “Hey there is a war on, can do, mentality which worked best without interference from some REMF (rear essalon MF).who thinks they know what the flights are facing...many did, but some did not have a clue and at times those few tried to throw a wrench into the fine oiled machines that were the front line fighting units.


Many units in Vietnam lost more aircraft and crew to dumb mistakes made by their own pilots than to some hostile actions by the enemy. Sky's unit had lost two aircraft and crew in accidents since his arrival in country. These accidents were not caused by the lack of a safety officer's input. Both were caused by a little to much ego and a severe lack of piloting skills.


Everyone in Sky's unit knew the second accident was going to happen except the New Major (company commander) and his brown nose Lieutenant who had arrived with the Major.


Sky could remember Turtle's red face as he complained about this new Major wanting to fly as Yellow One (left seat lead pilot) instead of Yellow One mike (right seat lead who works the radios and controls the mission). The Major had come from the states with his B.N. Lieutenant and was determined to show how a 2500 hour fixed wing Aviator with 25 hours in a quick course helicopter transition could run and lead Charley Company 227 a combat assault helicopter company..


Turtle’s call sign was the result of being in Song Bay during a mortar attack and taking several hits and scrapes from mortar fragments, gravel, and sliding into a ditch. A few stitches later and some Army antibiotic lotion he was good to go.


Turtle was saying he did not care if they pulled his A.C. Chain (reduced him to a right seater) or whatever; he was not going to sign off and let the new Major and his lieutenant fly together and lead a flight.... After a lot of hand waving and hotly spoken words it was decided to let the Major and Lt. Fly some simple resupply missions into some fairly secure areas. Let them get some helicopter flight time doing ass and trash missions over the next month or two and just see how it goes. There was a little more discussion about which Crew Chief and Door gunner would be assigned to their aircraft.


It was pointed out one of the 227th Crew Chiefs was not doing his job up to standards (slacker and complainer) and he actually wore a bead necklace under his Nomex flight suit. This Chief and a particular Door gunner who also wore beads and drank to much at night liked to fly and complain together.


This crew arrangement sounded great to all so the very next day the Major and crew were given several resupply missions. None of the missions were extra hard or even slightly above average dangerous. They were just resupply missions any decent FNG could handle by himself.


The witness on the ground said the aircraft was hovering down to land in their LZ and started to spin very slowly to the right. During the rotation of the spin the tail boom/tail rotor struck a tree. The aircraft fell approximately seventy feet into a Bamboo thicket. The Major was impaled through the leg and belly with bamboo stalks while the Lieutenant suffered a broken back. The Door gunner was killed and the Crew Chief was shipped back to the states with severe internal organ rearrangement syndrome.


Charley Company would get a new Major/Company Commander and the world was once again set right in the RFO's (Real F-ing Officers ) opinions. The Warrants were RFOs and the commissioned officers were RLOs or real live officers.


The other accident happened to a Warrant officer who for the entire year of his tour in Viet Nam never made aircraft commander. He extended his tour with Charley Company for an extra 6 months with the stipulation he would be signed off as an aircraft commander. Even after 1200 hours in country as a new guy he was a very marginal “Weak Dick” pilot. Sky remembered him from the one time they had flown together just before Sky himself became an A. C. The Crew Chief and Door Gunner had asked Sky to please not let “Mr. Weak Dick” kill them. They wanted Sky to do whatever it took to save them and they would back Sky up to the MAX even if he had to hurt this weak dick aircraft commander. This bothered Sky a great deal during the day and even afterward. Aircraft Commanders were Gods where new guys were just FNGs. There really wasn't much Sky could do unless he wanted some serious trouble from the other aircraft commanders and probably from the company. Luckily they all survived the day as weak Dick wasn't feeling well so Sky did most of the flying. The Door Gunner and the Crew Chief became friends of Sky and were with him the day Shakey's Hill became a sh*t storm.


At a later date Mr. Weak Dick was coming out of an L.Z. And ran out of left pedal. The aircraft spun, fell, and crashed back into the landing zone, rolled over, caught fire, and Mr. Weak Dick burned to death while conscience, which was noted by his screams. Sky had not been there that day but it still bothered him to know all the pain and suffering Weak Dick went through for his afterlife reward of P**sy and beer. The rumor was that when a Warrant Officer died and passed this veil of existence he would go to to the great helipad in the sky where the flying was good and there was p**sy and beer to keep one busy for all eternity. Some of the RLOs went to a nice safe desk where the ink pens never went dry and they could push paper work for all eternity.


It was a tradition to have a somber going away party in the bar bunker at Phuc Vhin anytime one of their fellow pilots or crew members were killed. They would drink and toast their comrade in arms on to the next life and in their own individual way remember and morn for their fellow Aviator. They were all kinda superstitious in small ways as they knew, but for luck, skill, and happenstance they could be the next to receive the farewell toast in the bar bunker at Phuc Vhin.


“ May Chief Warrant Officer (name) fly the good missions and save some P**sy and beer for us all”. That is an actual toast that was used on occasion.


The last day of Cambodia


These were but 'back of the mind fleeting thoughts' as Sky preflighted 915 that warm muggy morning. Sky had just come down from preflighting the rotor system when Bob arrived sporting a new strap on chicken plate and looking for all the world like a spit shined, just issued, new army CW1 Aviator.


“Good morning Bobby, (Sky seldom used FNG when addressing someone) where did you get that new strap on Chicken Plate” ?


Bobby replied, “ The corporal in the supply hooch said they just received some new ones; if you want me to I can go back and get you one too”.


“Well thanks Bob but I prefer to just lean a loose chicken plate against me when we are in the thick of stuff. Those things weigh over 20 pounds without the straps and if we crash the extra weight will either break your back or your body will compress and the top of the plate will crush your windpipe. With a loose plate I can just throw it off me before we hit the ground”.


Bobby looked at Sky and seemed to be thinking about removing his nice new strap-on chicken plate but the thought was interrupted as a company Slick hovered by and blew dust everywhere.


*CHICKEN PLATE* Was around an inch thick piece of armored ceramic and aluminum that could be worn over one's upper body. They say on a good day the chicken plate could stop a non-armor piercing 51 Cal. round. Even so Sky surmised the concussion of that large of a round would squash you between the seat back and the chicken plate like a bug under a combat boot, Survivable, but anyone that did survive would probably have bug eyes for a long time afterward.


Sky was not a control freak. He certainly wanted flying things done right, but was just as likely to say something once to a New Guy as to be on him constantly. There were enough control freaks in the Army without Sky adding his two cents worth. He would tell a New Guy something and if his advice was taken then all well and good, if not, something or someone else would show the FNG the errors of their ways.


Bobby was a good New Guy, very professional, and at this stage almost ready for his Aircraft Commander check ride. He had been flying with Sky for the last week everyday , usually in the left seat. However today as Bob looked inside 915's cockpit he could see Sky's helmet in the left seat. He knew it would be a right seat day for him and it made him feel a bit insecure. Did he mess something up yesterday...Was Sky pissed about something...or had they changed their minds about checking him out as an Aircraft Commander ?


His dark thoughts were interrupted when Sky said, “Bobby this is the last day of Cambodia. We will be doing troop extractions all day with Killer Spade running the show. If you do not mind I will fly left seat for the first mission and see how it goes with the Spade's lead”.


Bobby had already flown as a right seater with some Killer Spade led flights and was well aware with them in the lead, anything could happen. Survival chances would be enhanced if Sky were in the left seat; Bobby as well as Sky anticipated this was going to be a no kidding war day for everyone.


They departed Phuc Vhin and and met up with the Killer Spade Yellow one at Bu Dop. They then proceeded to an L.Z. in Cambodia where they were to pick up some of the last troops remaining in Cambodia when the flight started taking fire. They had approached the L.Z. From North to South with 8 Slicks and two Snakes and as they cleared the trees someone on the ground started shooting at them .The L.Z. Was big enough to probably hold 50 Slicks except for the clear water (deep) in the middle and tall elephant grass that grew in places next to the tree line. The flight had been in a formation of sections left; when they completed their approach, the flight came to a hover in the middle of the L.Z.


Yellow One was making pedal turns in the L.Z. looking for the troops the flight was supposed to airlift out,,,, the flight just sat there, a big fat target holding position at a hover with all heads trying to locate the troops .


Someone said, “One we are taking fire !”


A few seconds later then in a more persistent voice, “One we are taking fire!”


A short time later one octave higher and louder, “ ONE WE ARE TAKING FIRE !”


One continued to do pedal turns to the left as Sky finally came up on VHF and said, “One lets get out of here !“


Yellow One finally pulled pitch and the flight departed for L.Z. Bronco for the first time that day where they ended up being mortared. The flight then waited on the ground at Bu Dop while someone someplace talked to the troops that were supposed to be extracted. It had been the second time they had gone into the Cambodian L.Z. That Yellow Four was hit and came down on fire next to Sky's Yellow three bird .


As the flight sat at Bu Dop, Bobby walked down to the vicinity of where Yellow Two was parked wondering what had finally finally been done to the FNG that took off from Bronco without his Aircraft Commander. He was still smiling as he returned to 915.


“Well I found out what happened to Yellow Two's new guy,” he said as Sky was just starting to lay down in the cargo hold.


“What happened?”


“Well, the Killer Spade birds have swapped New Guys and the Yellow Two Aircraft Commander has promised he would not kill his now “X” FNG until they get back to Tay Ninh.”


“That poor FNG probably thought he was being a hero by saving the aircraft and two crew members, maybe he was ?......... He might have been a hero in some outfit like the Screaming Chickens, however, the Yellow Two A. C. obviously had different feelings on the matter,” replied Sky.


“What side would you come down on,” asked Bobby ?


“I dunno, it's a hard call. You ever hear about how in 1968 the First Cav lost 33 aircraft in the Ah Shaw Valley all within one day ?”


“No $hit 33 all in one day,” Bobby exclaimed !


“Bob I was not there and other than hooch talk that is the story that is repeated; the story goes the lead bird got hit and crashed into some little four or five ship L.Z. The bird that went down had a crew of 4 and six grunts on board. All the remaining slicks tried to reinforce the ten guys stuck in the hot L.Z. I do not know the real sequence or how they managed to go full FUBAR but when the dust settled the Cav had lost 33 aircraft damaged or destroyed. People can shake their heads and marvel at the stupidity of war but let me say this, (Sky paused for dramatic effect) if you go down and can get a Mayday out or we see you go down, we will try everything to get you out. That's the difference between the CAV and some other girl scout outfit. We don't leave our people behind.”


Bobby smiled and said, “ Rude, Crude, unsophisticated, but we always have your back.”


Sky had just pulled his hat brim over his eyes thinking he might get some sleep before the flight had to go back and get the last troops out of Cambodia when another Ghost Rider aircraft landed next to 915 blowing dirt and debris all over Sky's staked out sleeping area. As the dust settled, almost like a fog of red dirt a dim figure came walking toward 915 hunched over with both hands in his trouser pockets. Sky recognized the dust devil as none other than 'Cherry' Rich who was the only old guy in their unit that had not been shot down or crashed during his present tour in Vietnam. Sky had flown with Cherry Rich many times as a new guy right seater when he first arrived in country. Rich was the kind of guy who could be in a four ship formation that got blown away yet Cherry Rich would come through without a scratch. He actually had some eight millimeter film of a flight he was in that was laced by a 51 Cal. One bird was shot down immediately and another caught on fire. In the film of the burning bird you could see the Crew Chief and Door gunner walking out on the skids trying to avoid the flames while their Aircraft Commander tried in vain to find a clear area in the triple canopy jungle to put the burning ship down. The Chief and gunner jumped to their death from 200 feet and 110 knots as the heat and smoke were just to much for them to remain with the aircraft; their bodies were found two days later. The burning ship was able to make it to the edge of a clearing just as the tail boom decided to melt off the helicopter. In the film you could see the aircraft spin ass backwards and impact upon what was left of the tail section. There was a large black and Grey cloud of smoke on impact which caused anyone watching to say, “Well that's it, they didn't make it.” That thought had barely passed when out of the smoke and flames came two Warrant Officers running away from the crash site faster than the speed of heat. They both made it to fly and fight another day.


Cherry Rich approached 915 with a devilish grin and said, “ I guess you guys know you are going to get you $hit blown away when you go back to that L.Z. For the troops”


Sky looked up and asked, “You got your camera and tape recorder?”


“$hit, today you guys are in a real shooting war... You are going to get you $hit blown away I guarantee it and I forgot my damn camera !”


“What makes you so bullet proof today Cherry,” asked Sky ?


With a supreme look of satisfaction Cherry explained he was flying the Charley Charley bird (command and control aircraft) and was only in danger of getting to cold at the high altitude he was flying.


“Who is your New Guy today,” asked Sky?


“Lidio, he is shutting the bird down while I get a good look at someone who is going to get their $HIT BLOWN AWAY”!!!


“ I can't believe you forgot your camera Cherry for such an action filled last day of Cambodia..... and by the way F U too, a$$hole,” replied Sky as he lay back to continue his interrupted nap. They both laughed as Cherry Rich walked off down the flight line to spread his humor with the rest of the flight.


As Sky lay there he thought of Cherry's new guy. Lidio had already survived 5 crashes and shoot downs as a new guy. It did not matter what the mission was or what went on in the world in general, if an aircraft crashed or was blown away you could bet that Magnet a$$ Lidio would come crawling out of the mangled wreckage to stand and look in amazement how once again he had defied death or dismemberment. Lidio was starting to get the shakes after the 4th crash and by the 5th he was beginning to wonder whether some malevolent spirit was really trying to piss him off. Everyone liked Lidio and always tried to console him that the last crash had to have been the final one by just figuring the odds. It was a well know fact that everyone in the unit either crashed or was shot down twice during their tour except for Cherry Rich.


Sure enough, just about the time Sky's thoughts were drifting into the blackness of sleep Lidio came up to 915 and started talking to Bobby Bad Back about his new strap on Chicken plate. They were laughing and cutting up as the Chief started opening access panels on 915 for inspection while the Door Gunner thought it was time to clean and inspect the side mounted machine guns once again. The noise did not even register as Sky slipped into a dreamless 20 minute power nap. Sky was averaging 235 flight hours in a 30 day period; the Army said 90 hours was the max you should fly for a 30 day total so he was not just tired but had given up almost all thoughts of leaving Vietnam in one piece. Sky like many others, figured he was almost dead already so nothing much bothered him. Some called that the 1000 yard stare.. Once any soldier reaches that stage they become a very effect warrior as fear seems to be left behind.


It had been Sky's first mission in country when he realized he just might not make it out of Vietnam alive. The Ghost Riders had a gaggle of 18 slicks on a combat assault when the flight had been laced by small arms fire and a very accurate big caliber gook gun. They had only lost two birds down that day but the noise and mayhem of battle made a long lasting impression on Sky. No one could live through this stuff day in and day out , which was true. It was also true that the $hit did not hit the fan every mission as you might go weeks or months without contact and just about the time you started to relax the $hit would be everywhere and upon you. If the great ticket puncher in the sky punched your ticket then you were gone, if not you would get your normal two shoot downs/crashes out of the way and go home a Combat Aviator.


When Sky had been a New guy of maybe two months in country he had rode aircraft 803 down from 2500 feet when a fire started. This event had not made him happy about the situation in the least. They had been rescued after approximately 20 minutes on the ground but Sky the new guy had not liked the fear of burning to death. The whole event had shaken his mental picture of himself as a true cool combat Aviator; able to control fear with the best of them while spitting in death's eye. Since the time of the fire he had experienced a few hydraulic failures, been shot at, became a hero at Shakey's Hill (according to the award ceremony) and had gotten his butt chewed out after he became Aircraft Commander for having a tailrotor failure and landing the aircraft back at the company without even declaring an emergency. It was just the solenoid wafer valve in the tail rotor servo that had locked up preventing him from moving the pedals. The pedals were locked like they had been welded in place. On this day Sky was smart enough not to kick a pedal trying to free them because that could have caused either a full left or right pedal input which would have been a totally different circumstance as far as control-ability of the aircraft. He had brought the crippled bird into Furgussion heli Pad at Phuc Vhin using manual throttle and collective pitch control. He was even able to ground taxi the bird towards the maintenance tent with that technique. Furgussion heli pad was not so much a pad but a cleared out area where you could fit 8 birds noes to tail with no problem. Phuc Vhin had a nice long Airforce runway where Sky could have declared an emergency and stopped all the flight operations until he was down and they were able to clear his aircraft from the runway. That would have taken time and Sky still had one more unit to resupply before darkness, which he did not have to do as there were no more birds to be had in the unit.


That night the New Company Commander and the Maintenance Officer made a special effort to inform Sky that from now on he was to declare an emergency, get the fire trucks out and land on the main runway at Phuc Vhin; not some half acre helicopter landing zone called Fergussion Pad !


At the time Sky had said, “Yes sir, will do sir,” but the voice in his head had thought the Major and the Maintenance Officer were nothing more than FNGs telling him how to run his bird. “F*ckem !”(A few years later Sky on second thought, decided they were probably correct; screw the Airforce operations and declare an emergency could have been the safest course of action and besides, it might have pissed the Airforce dweebs off who lived in air conditioned hooches and had a real officer's club instead of a self made bunker bar. )


Sky awoke to to Cherry's voice as he was walking by 915 commenting on how it would be good to get a new aircraft for Charley Company after 915 was blown away. 915 was was getting old and tired looking just like its' FNG Aircraft Commander !


Sky didn't even miss a beat . He was asleep one moment and saying “ F*ck you new guy,” to Cherry Rich even before his eyes were fully opened. As Rich walked back to his Charley Charley bird the two old friends gave each other the one finger salute as a final parting gesture.


Well that did it ! Sky was awake now so he decided to get out of the oven that 915 had become in the last 40 minutes and walk the flight line. He was thinking he might see someone else he might know or failing that look at the shot up birds in the flight.


He had not gone 30 feet from 915 when someone shouted his name. He turned in the direction of the voice and beheld an old flight school buddy called Weaver he had not seen for almost a year. They shook hands exchanging rude crude pleasantries while they looked for some shade to get caught up on what had been happening since flight school.


Sky's flight school buddy had been flying the flare bird at L.Z. Moe the night it had almost gotten overrun. The weather had been bad that night with low ceilings so Weaver had elected to fly the flare bird from the right seat (better instruments for flying in the clouds) than from the left seat. So, there they were in and out of the clouds at 3000 feet dropping flares around L.Z. Moe as many bad guys tried to overrun the fire support base. One of his dropped flares popped prematurely which jettisoned the chute early which got caught on the aircraft's skid. This caused many big problems ! The crew thought the flare was going to flop around and burn through their helicopter while Weaver who was flying was blinded by what seemed to be the ten billion million trillion candle watt power of the flare.


The bad guys looked up and decided even they could shoot such a well lighted target as Old Flight School Buddy Weaver's bird.


Beautiful green arcs of light danced toward Weaver's aircraft and where they touched the fragile bird, sparks flew and metal screamed in the agony as there were holes being punched where none were needed or wanted. It sounded like a popcorn machine as much as anything with the Ping, Ping, thump, Ping, Ping, Whack, as the engine quits and a moment later another big whack as the transmission is hit and starts to pump all its' life's blood of transmission fluid out the hell hole in the bottom of the aircraft. Without fluid the transmission can and will seize and as the rotor blades stop turning your bird turns into a falling brick of metal.


Weaver is in deep $hit and he knows it. He had entered an autorotation when the engine quit out of pure reaction and training. He was trying to find and land as close to L.Z Moe as possible but was having a difficult time seeing anything until his crew finally cut away the hanging flare. As the zillion watt brightness of the flare fizzled and fell away from the aircraft Weaver was once again almost totally blind because his night vision had been destroyed. They say blind people have heightened other senses and this was evidently the case as Weaver swore he could hear the helicopter transmission making terrible grinding sounds that did not bode well for a successful termination of this autorotation. Weaver was trying to make himself as small as possible while the bad guys continued to put large quantities of lead into the air and through his crippled flying machine. He turned on his landing lights hoping to see something but nothing happened as they had both been shot out. His vision had improved enough that he could detect the tracer rounds coming off of L.Z. Moe so he headed that way. Except for the tracers the ground was pitch black but he could barely make out the trees in the treeline surrounding Moe which he figured were around 100 feet tall. As the bird descended rapidly below the perceived treeline Weaver waited a brief second while he estimated he should be close to 75 feet above the invisible ground so he could start to flare and slow his forward momentum down. His airspeed indicator was still working so he watched his airspeed decrease and when everything seemed about right after guesstimating his height above the 'still no can see ground' he made his initial pitch pull to slow and break his decent. He leveled the aircraft and continued to cushion the aircraft onto the landing area by applying more pitch with the collective. At the very time Weaver thought he should be touching down he reached Max collective and or pitch which should have resulted in a perfect autorotation to a gentile touchdown...except there was no ground! The first thought was, “On $hit!”


Still no ground and another, “Oh $hit!”


He tried to sit straighter to protect his back forgetting the small arms fire that still punched many holes in his aircraft's skin.


“OH SHIT!!!!!” And then the bird impacted in a level attitude with a force that buckled and broke the skids of the airframe as the bird came to rest on its' belly; which was not to bad considering it was a three “Oh $hit “ landing.


Weaver was on the side facing the fire support base and once he figured out he was still alive he jumped clear of his broken bird right into the middle of the razor sharp concertina wire which surrounded the perimeter of L.Z. Moe. Weaver turned his head just in time to see his New Guy right seater exit the aircraft on the bad guy side and start to run almost standing straight up. The noise of all the weapons and mayhem of war blocked out Weaver's voice as he screamed at his new guy to watch out for the rotor blade; but alas it was to late. The blade while still moving at close to 40 rpm or greater contacted the new guy just between the flight helmet and his shoulder which resulted in the helmet and head being removed from the body. The body took a step and then tripped and fell thrashing on the ground like most things do when their heads are removed. Weaver had never seen such a sight and was extremely impressed by the amount of pressure that is contained withing the human cardiovascular system as blood seemed to squirt a couple of yards from the now headless body.


Weaver had the helicopter between himself and the bad guys yet was hopelessly tangled up in the concertina wire and unable to do anything but lay low and work slowly to untangle himself. He just hoped the bird would not catch on fire because he knew he would be roasted like a hot dog on a coat hanger if it did. The remainder of the night was long and the battle was fierce but the bad guys never made it to the wire of L.Z. Moe. Weaver had survived that night to fly again and see Sky at L.Z. Bu Dop.


Sky had heard about the flare bird being shot down at L.Z. Moe but as Weaver was in a different company he had not know it was Weaver who was the A.C. On that ill fated mission. The New Guy who had been beheaded had only been in country a short time.


“War's Hell on earth for the unlucky.”


They talked for awhile longer and Sky found out that Weavers was going back to his home base. The bird he was flying today had taken some rounds in the instrument panel which had shot out his torque gauge and EGT gauge making the bird nonoperational for the extraction of the troops. He was quite pleased and thanked the NVA that he would not have to go back to that POS Cambodian L.Z. And get his butt shot off ! Weaver actually smiled and assured Sky this was one combat assault he was happy to miss even after Sky jokingly offer 915 to Weaver to fly the mission. They parted good friend to never see or talk to each other again. It really had been good seeing someone from flight school still alive and smiling as Sky watched Weaver walk back to his damaged bird.


Sky continued down the parked line of aircraft until he was able to smell something cooking; it was not long before he spied 5 army types cooking their C-Rations over a C-4 fire they had built using and empty can. C-4 could blow most stuff up with a little applied electrical voltage but it could also be used to heat your can of C-Rat beanie weenies. C-4 is a plastic explosive used when you needed a big bang for something. You could clear and entire L.Z. of trees with the stuff but it was widely used for cooking because it was easy to set fire to, would burn a long time, and produced an almost smokeless hot flame; good stuff.


Sky walked over to the group and asked, “What's to eat ?”


“We got three cases of C-Rats so help yourself,” invited one of the troops.


Sky was able to find a can of 'Beanie Weenies' and even a can of pound cake in the newly opened C-Rat box. Pound cake was a rare treat and was seldom found once a box of C-Rats were opened. As he marveled at his good fortune he opened the cans of food with his P-38 opener, which he kept on his dog tag chain around his neck, life was good. He listened to the general talk about how the protesters in the states, among other things, were wanting President Nixon to stop the bombing of the North.


A young man who was eating cheese and crackers said, “I wish they would pack up anyone of our units to the states and let us 'Roll Hot' on the protesting bastards just once !”


There was sagely nodding of heads and there seemed to be a general agreement for that kind of action. Visions of college kids, Bobby's and Mavin’s, Sara's and Kathy's, scorched, broken, and bleeding the the last of their life's blood upon the ground played before Sky's imaginative mind. Universities on fire, peace protesters crying at the brutality of the mean old nasty Military for killing and maiming their brothers and sisters in the peace movement. In Sky's mind he thought some of the protestors probably needed killing but he did not think the odds of something like that happening were very apt to happen. He wondered if indeed something like that were to happen how many of his fellow Aviators in his unit would enjoy participating in such activities ? There was a lot of discussion about what type of ordinance they would use and even what universities would be on the top 10 hit list. Many details were being batted back and forth when Sky broke in and said, “ There must be one or two that don't deserve killing, you know like Sodom and Gomorrah, Lot and his pillar of Salt wife.” One member of the group said, “Then let God sort them out ” while and another member said, “ Well that might be so, but as everyone knows you gotta sacrifice a few peaches to make a Peach cobbler !” Everyone laughed at that point and Sky did too.


The Beanie Weenies and Pound cake were finished so Sky thanked all and excused himself as he headed back to 915's parking place. The sun was closer to evening than mid-day yet it seemed once out of the sparse shade the Sun's rays would bore into any exposed skin with hot iron intensity. Helicopters had been coming and going which created the only breeze available for those stuck on the ground. Just another day at Bu Dop in South East Asia.


There was the noise of slicks starting their engines as Sky walked back to 915. It was Weaver's aircraft and another bird leaving to return to their home bases. The two birds lifted off together in a clatter of noise and dust and as Sky watched one of the pilots saluted Sky from his left side window. He figured it was Weaver so he smartly saluted back, then waved and gave a thumbs up to the departing aircraft. As Weaver's bird disappeared someone started shouting that all the Aircraft Commanders were to proceed down the flight line to Yellow One's aircraft for a crew briefing. Sky angled that way and was surprised to see a real Lt. Colonel (maybe ? from Cherry's aircraft ?) standing in the middle of the assembled Aviators waiting for everyone to arrive. You might hear a Lt. Colonel on the radio (call sign Red Hawk 6 something) or even occasionally see them at the officer's club or at a very large fire support base such as Bu Dop but until now Sky had never seen one on a combat assault briefing. It was common knowledge that a Lt. Colonel REMF could just land at one of the bases the 227th was stationed and get a DFC (distinguished fly cross) which certainly diminished the value of such an award for those who earned the medal the hard way.


There was one Full Bird Colonel that was famous in the Cav's A.O. who worked out of Quan Loy … He was a real warrior and leader of his troops who actually got dirty and killed things just like his troops. He was not necessarily admired by many of the REMFs because he made them all look bad in the eyes of God. He was famous for showing up on one occasion at a staff meeting covered in mud and yuck...those in attendance gave him room so they would not soil their nicely starched uniforms while looking on with an air of almost distaste. His troops honored and respected him and would follow his lead unto death; which some did.


The Lt. Colonel who was giving the briefing had ordered 4 replacement aircraft for the flight which were now parked down the flight line. He was there to tell the Aircraft Commanders about how the Army in conjunction with the Airforce had been working with the First Cav troops in the field to secure the L.Z. for extraction. The briefing was mostly about how prepared and brave the troops were and how “no matter what” Sky's flight was going to go, 'under direct presidential orders' and extract the last troops from Cambodia this very day.


Operationally nothing really changed except they would now approach the L.Z. In two fights of four instead of one flight of eight. White flight was to land on the east side of the L.Z. And pick up the east guard while Yellow flight was to land on the west side and pick up the west guard. This all sounded good to Sky; he was now White three. When the Lt. Colonel finished they all returned to their aircraft to wait for Yellow One to start his engine. Time passed slowly in the heat until the whine of Yellow One's gas turbine sprang to life indicating the show was about to begin.

Sky was of an age and had a belief system that permitted him to fight this war with a clear conscience and a strong desire to do what was right while trying to not make any stupid mistakes. He was probably dead already yet he did not want to disgrace his honor or hurt those who depended on him so as Yellow One was starting Sky hit the battery switch and flipped the fuel on for 915's thirsty engine. He pulled the start trigger and rolled the throttle on as 915 came to life. The fight of 8 slicks and their two Snake escorts (AH1G Cobras) were all ready for another mission in South East Asia to extract the last troops out of Cambodia.


Yellow flight's 4 birds took off first and White flight and the Snakes were close behind. The Snakes danced on the flight's flanks weaving and turning as the two flights of 4 approached the L.Z. For the third time that day.

As the now airborne flight low leveled enroute to the Cambodian L.Z. There wasn't enough time to think about what they had gotten themselves into. There were the practical necessities of avoiding running into another lift bird while maintaining clearance from the triple canopy jungle that passed feet and inches from 915s skids . The radios were still busy with the administrative transmissions which now seemed to be shorter and even more cryptic.


Sky's White flight approached the L.Z. From the same north to south direction just like the previous two times they had entered the L.Z. Sky had his Chicken Plate leaned against his chest and stomach in the event the bad guys started shooting at them again. This time however the two flights of 4 did not take fire as they cleared the tree line that surrounded the edge of the L.Z. …....As a matter of fact there was no shooting anywhere.


Yellow Flight went to the west side of the of the L.Z. And White flight went to the east side as they had been previously briefed. Sky landed as close as possible to the tree line on his left and slightly further left than his normal position directly behind White One. He had just mentally commented to himself, “ I guess they got them all,” meaning the bad guys were either dead or had run away when Sky's conscience world went dark. One moment he had been looking for the friendly troops and the next second he was out cold. To this very day he does not know if it was some type of land detonated mine/bomb or some bad guy with an RPG and a very bad aim that had shot at 915. Whatever had caused the blast had dug a huge hole in the soft mud ( which probably saved their lives) in front of 915's landing area and absolutely covered the forward wind screens in a thick coating of black mud.


When Sky came to he was amazed to find himself still in one piece as he looked down thinking he would see blood squirting through holes in his chicken plate. His first reaction was to check 915s systems via the instrument panel. The engine RPM was down to 6200 from its normal 6600 and the oil pressure gauge was showing zero. Sky hit the standby inverter hoping it might be the primary inverter or the gauge when he realized he could not see out of the front wind screen as it was covered with a thick layer of mud and no telling what else.


The radios came alive with the now familiar of different lift birds declaring, “ We are taking fire!” Over the noise of the radios Sky heard his Crew Chief saying that the troops were on board, and he the Chief was hit.


Sure enough 915 did indeed have six grunts on board.


“Chief can you shoot,” was Sky's question ?
“Yes,” came the reply.
“ Then shoot,” was sky's order.


Sky started pulling pitch as he hit the beep switch for the engine governor; beeping 915's engine to it's max RPM knowing full well if 915 didn't make it out of the L.Z. They were all going to be dead or worse. Not being able to see out of the aircraft except for his left sliding window and the chin bubble was a problem as there were aircraft and trees all around his position. 915's two M-60 machine guns barked and blazed away at any and all perceived enemy locations while the radio chatter continued with warnings on all three radios.


War could be a very noisy place indeed.


Sky started to stick his helmeted head out of his left side window but just as he moved to do so he swore he SAW two rounds go by so close he could hear them them snap by even through his helmet and radios chatter.


915 wallowed fighting her way into translational lift but she could not gain enough speed to pass the transition from a hover to flight. A very risky move was executed by
what is called popping a bird into translational lift; it either works or you will be back on the ground out of pitch pull and ideas. Sky's rapid pitch pull while lowering the noise brought the engine RPM down to 5800 RPM but 915 was through translational lift and flying out of the hover mode which takes much more power to do. Sky milked power back into her drive train by decreasing collective pitch and adding right pedal which did increase the engine RPM back to 6100 but still shy of her normal 6600. Sky did everything he could including pulling up on the cyclic (which could not help at all) trying to get 915 clear the trees at the edge of the L.Z. There was a moment as 915 hung over the edge of the tree line …..as the bad guys shot holes in her belly and blades trying to bring her down.....before she finally decided she could do this and fly away.


In the spirit of a true war machine she carried the 10 souls out of harms way and from the blade of the Grim Reaper on this day.


All three radios were filled with the chatter of war but one transmission seemed to rise above all others.


“Will you look at this they shot my f*cking fingers off, they shot my f*cking fingers off,” which was being said with an almost melodic chant.


As 915 finally got some good air under her she accelerated leaving the bad guys behind to wonder why they didn't have any First Cav troops and pilots in their clutches to abuse and mutilate.


Sky was still having trouble seeing where he was going so he had to alternate between looking through the chin bubble and the two side windows of the aircraft while he did his utmost to get 915 far away from the hot L.Z. Vertigo danced at the edges of his senses, yet, even in her damage state 915 was an extension of Sky's own body. Bobby pointed out 915 now had a maxed out transmission oil temp and a higher than normal engine exhaust gas temp (EGT).


Sky was unaware that during the time he had been knocked out a mortar round had gone off near the left side of the aircraft damaging the engine and transmission plus hitting the Crew Chief in the arm and leg with shrapnel. Sky had thought the Chief had been hit by small arms fire.


Mr. F*cking Fingers was still was still broadcasting over one of the radios about his missing appendages when Sky came up on UHF guard frequency and said, “ Break, break, break, be advised White Three has a maxed out transmission oil temp and EGT; I need a place to set her down!”


This undoubtedly sounded weird to his fellow Air Gods as they were unaware Sky could not see out of 915 as far as any forward vision.


Someone said, “ Pick a place they are everywhere.”


Sky almost asked who the wise a$$ was but thought better of it as he had more pressing problems.


Off the left side of 915 appeared a clear blue (no elephant grass so deep) lake. There appeared to be a one shipper L.Z. On the waters edge and what looked like a three ship L.Z. Just to the left and over some very tall trees. Sky broke left and advised the flight he was going down. Delta 23 came up on VHF radio and said, “ I got you White Three” meaning he would fly down with 915 to provide covering fire if needed.

[727Sky]

Sky's intention was to land or crash into the three shipper so that hopefully they could be extracted from the one ship L.Z. Next to the waters edge. This would enable his already
heavily loaded fellow slicks to use the lake as a clear way for take off as they were all loaded to the max if not over max gross take off weight. The slicks would need all the clear way they could find if they put one or two more troops on their aircraft if they expected to be able to get airborne with such a load. Sky did not want to crash into the water as he knew full well his fully loaded combat troops would either drown or be chopped into mince meat by 915's rotor blade. As he lowered the collective 915's EGT gauge decreased rapidly which made Sky think the engine had finally failed . It seemed like Sky was getting himself into a real no $hit situation ! He was to high for the one shipper and through the chin bubble he estimated they were to low for the planned approach to the three ship L.Z. If he had been able to see he might have been able to do some creative auto-rotating and manage to squeeze into the one shipper but without visibility he was seriously behind the power curve of staying alive.


“Chief tell them were are going to crash and to grab something to hold onto.” said Sky over 915's intercom.


“ All right you mother F**kers we are going to crash ! Grab onto something and hold tight,” the chief yelled loud enough for Sky to hear through his helmet.


One moment everything was normal for the situation and the next second Sky was being pulled up out of his seat by his shoulder harness as one of the adrenalin pumped troops got a death grip on the harness just above the inertia reel on Sky's seat back.


“Chief get him off my shoulder harness !”


“YOU...LET GO OF THAT STRAP NOW!” hollered the Chief.


The harness relaxed and Sky was once again better able to manipulate 915's controls.


Sky saw a dried stream bed that emptied into the lake; it was narrow but it should afford 915 a better option for a crash sight than no options at all. Pointing the nose of 915 in that general direction he reached with his left hand and removed his chicken plate from his body. He laid it between his seat and the center console of 915. This completed he started to raise the nose for a low level rapid flare and deceleration. As the nose came up Bobby Bad Back asked, “ You got those trees?”


Sky nodded and replied, “Yep.”


It was obvious that it was Bobby's first clear look outside as his wind screen was covered in muck like Sky's. There whole visible world and situational awareness was limited to what they could see through the small clear plexiglass window called the chin bubble between their feet.


The Army's policy for crashing into the trees consisted of basically doing an auto-rotation to the top of the jungle foliage and stopping all forward momentum while leveling the aircraft and finally cushioning the bird into the tops of the trees. Once this was accomplished you were along for the ride with no control and only luck as your companion.


Sky had two good friends that were on a low level sniffer mission that experienced an engine failure over the triple canopy jungle. Larson the A.C had been able to transmit “Engine Failure” to his high bird (Snake cover) as he did a pop-up with a rapid flare before hitting the trees. Larson's UH-1 was successfully auto-rotated into the upper reaches of the jungle where it came to rest for all of a very few seconds before the heavy forward section on the aircraft slide nose first (over 100 feet) into the dirt. The high bird Snake Aircraft Commander watch helplessly as Larson's UH-1 sat nose first in an almost vertical position as the bird began to smoke. He kept transmitting for Larson and crew to get out as the bird was catching on fire but there was no movement. Larson and Riley we trapped by the crumpled nose and instrument panel upon impact. Do to the high content of magnesium in a UH-1 it only takes about 40 minutes to reduce a once proud bird to nothing more than a patch of scorched earth and a few not so easy to burn parts.


Sky was determined after Larson and Riley's death that if he were going to crash into the trees he would try his best to go in tail boom first; that would hopefully let the tail boom absorb the majority of the impact. Sky thought of this technique as a UH-1 lawn dart maneuver and had hoped he would never have to use it but today it appeared he would have to use this untried, unproven, theory for real.


Just in front of 915 finally viable through the chin bubble was a wall of jungle and forest. Sky brought the nose of 915 up almost into a vertical position to decelerate as the tops of the huge trees were now above his line of vision. Collective pitch was applied in popping motions to slow 915's forward momentum and as luck would have it 915's relative forward momentum was probably around 20 knots when contact was made with the trees. WHAM and JERK when the bird made contact with the trees which made Sky say to himself, “ That wasn't so bad.”


Then another sound seemed to penetrate the noise of 915 being dismembered by the enemy trees as the transmission was banging inside the transmission well trying to get loose from its moorings and possibly eat the 10 souls who were hanging on for dear life.
The aircraft started to fall off to the right side as Sky promised he would keep his eyes open this time unlike the time he had been a passenger on a UH-1A model during flight school which had run out of rotor RPM during a training auto-rotation. Just before impact Sky had lain down and shut his eyes only to open them as the aircraft bounced from it's skids to it's nose which seemed like more than twice before it finally came to rest with a decent amount of damage.


As 915 fell to the right Sky pushed the Cyclic control stick full left and 915 righted herself to land hard on her skids which folded and broke next to the fuselage. Why 915 righted herself is a true mystery as most of her rotor blades were missing, shattered, and gone except for the leading edge. Sky looked out the side window and saw what was left of the rotor blades were turning barely 2 feet off the ground with enough velocity to still cut small trees and Army soldiers in half without missing a beat.


Sky knew the troops would be terrified of the rocking motion and noise coming from 915's remains but he had to stop them from running head down to their death.


“Chief, tell the troops DON'T RUN, stay next to the bird or the rotor blades will kill them !”


Sky knew the Crew Chief was still alive because through all the noise of 915 dying he could hear the Chief giving commands to the troops.


Sky tried to open his door but it was jammed, probably due to the airframe being bent. He did pull the emergency door quick release but did not push on the door as he wanted to find his survival radio and figure out what to do with the super secret KY-28 radio which was installed in the center console of 915. The bad guy command structure would love to get their hands on that radio, so what to do ? These and a few other thoughts were going through Sky's mind as the Crew Chief reached the jammed side door on Sky's side of 915. With both hands the Chief grabbed the door and ripped it from the aircraft like Hercules might have done ! The door went sailing from the aircraft and it appeared to Sky that the Chief was going to remove Sky even though he was still strapped into his seat. With the Chief's adrenalin pumped body it would not have surprised Sky if the Chief could have pulled the entire seat out of 915 with Sky still strapped in.


“Wait Chief, I'm O.K. Take care of the troops!”


The Chief looked at Sky 'white eyed' and then with a nod of his head he was on the troops like a drill Sargent in basic training.


At the one shipper L.Z. That abutted the lake next to Sky's crash sight a lift bird was already touching down to extract some of 915's troops. They actually put 3 troops on board and with exceptional piloting skill, plus dragging the skids through the lake's clear water they achieved translational lift and were able to depart the area. That bird was no sooner clear than another bird was touching down to continue the extraction process.


Sky had found his survival radio but was still not sure of what to do about the KY-28 as he had no white phosphorous grenade or anything else he could think of to destroy the radio. As he looked out through the right side window of 915 he realized everyone on the latest rescue bird was waving at him to come on board. He exited and ran to waiting bird and as it lifted off he looked at 915 for the last time still thinking about the KY-28 radio.


Out of the ten souls on board of 915 that day Bobby Bad Back was the only one to be hurt. He had suffered a slightly compressed vertebrate/spine which after a short time recuperating he got his Aircraft Commander check out and became a respected A.C.


Sky survived Vietnam after the crash of 915 and because he had flown almost 50 hours in the clouds semi terrified he knew he was weak in that area of flying. He had gotten low grades for instrument procedures in flight school he requested and received orders for Ft. Rucker to become an instrument flight instructor. For three years he taught instruments waiting on his promised fixed wing transition course that never seemed to arrive. There were six guys who had signed up for Army Aviation fixed wing and they had all been talked into going helicopter first and then later they would get their fixed wing transition course after about a year back in the states and after their tour of Vietnam. Besides being an instructor pilot Sky had finished the Examiner course which means anyone wanting to maintain flight status would be both written tested and flight tested by the local Examiner or their flight status would be pulled no matter the rank.


One of the six guys who had been promised fixed wing was a guy by the name of John. He and Sky had been calling Washington D.C. About every four to six months asking about their fixed wing qualification course. Every time Gilmore, who was in charge of the Warrant Officer Aviation branch, would tell them not yet; finally the last time they called he flat out said they were only transitioning 30 Warrant Officer for the entire year into Fixed Wing Aircraft. John was doing the talking and after mentioning, promises, Honor, and a few other choice words he handed the phone to Sky.


“What seems to be the problem Mr. Gilmore?”


Same old song and dance so Sky basically said, “I can see truthfulness only goes in one direction in this man's army so you can count me out too !” He then hung up before Gilmore could reply.


John had basically told Mr. Gilmore that the Army can take their promises and stick them where the 'sun don't shin'.


That was on a Tuesday and the following Friday they both had orders to attend Fixed Wing qualification course the following Monday. After the course was completed they were assigned back to S.E. Asia to fly the friendly skies of Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand. Sky spent 14 months flying Sneaky Pete missions before he was able to in country transfer to flying mostly people around and in and out of country. He picked up the Ambassador's wife, bird cage, and two kids from Vietnam on the Friday before the Monday Nam fell.


To say Sky was 'pissed off' when Nam fell at the government would have been a slight understatement as he and many of his fellow aviators might not say anything but the seed was sown for mistrust in supposedly smart government bureaucrats who say they are there to 'help you' and 'defend freedom' because it seemed to Sky as soon as the going got tough they always found an excuse to turn tail and run.


That was the end of the 1979 manuscript I found but I will add.


Sky got out of the service in 1977 and flew Corporate for 7 years and finally got hired by a major airline. He retired in 2010 with over 25,000 flight hours in various aircraft to include helicopters. He got to fly internationally just about all over the world and is now living back in S.E. Asia.


Tony Lidio Mr. Magnet A$$ was killed in Laos which was a really bad fubar invasion as many many aircraft were lost. I was told by the third week of the Laotian operation there were no more OH-6 aircraft in the 1st Cav to be had as they had all been shot down.


Cherry Rich got out of the service and went to work for a freight hauler. Rich was the new guy even though he had a few thousand hours more than the Captain of the aircraft that lost and engine and crashed. Rich was not killed but much of the cargo came forward and did a number on him to the point he was never able to fly again.


There really are no heroes in war just those who take it upon themselves to do what needs to be done at the time.


One true hero I will never forget though was 915 who gave her everything when it was needed.

[F2d5thCav]

I knew a guy who had been a battalion CO in Vietnam.  He had two rules regarding operations.  One was the ARVN liaison wasn't informed of the operation until the helos had already reached the LZs.  The other was that right before they landed, the LZ got a thorough artillery prep.

The results of those rules were that they never hit a hot LZ and casualties were light in comparison to other battalions in the division.

Rule #1 wasn't popular with the Viets, but the ugly truth was they were infiltrated and couldn't keep secrets.

Cheers

[727Sky]

I knew a guy who had been a battalion CO in Vietnam.  He had two rules regarding operations.  One was the ARVN liaison wasn't informed of the operation until the helos had already reached the LZs.  The other was that right before they landed, the LZ got a thorough artillery prep.

The results of those rules were that they never hit a hot LZ and casualties were light in comparison to other battalions in the division.

Rule #1 wasn't popular with the Viets, but the ugly truth was they were infiltrated and couldn't keep secrets.

Cheers

Yes insertion was always prepped and we would be on short final when two Willy Pete shells would go off signaling the artillery was finished. Then the Snakes would take over if needed. Unfortunately that did not work on an extraction as the NVA would follow US troops and wait for extraction before contact once the birds were on the ground. Nixon had said on a National T.V. address by 1800 (?) all troops would be out of Cambodia... So it was no secret what was going to happen that last day in Cambodia.

[Bally002]

It's good that you documented this experience @"Skye"#109 

Glad you put your adventure to writing so I can gain an insight.  My first CO was a Vietnam vet and flew Iroquois' and later Kiowas. (Navy)  I would've liked to hear of his take but sadly he's passed.

A real officer and gentleman.

Cheers mate.

Bally)

[Ninurta]

A riveting tale, well written. It's good to put these things into writing, so that future generations know what it was like and get a "you were there" or "there I was, just mindin' my own business" perspective.

I never visited Vietnam, but parts of the story did recall some memories, other times, other places. It's the little things that tweak the most - for example, I can recall heating that nasty-assed C-rat instant coffee ("Fortified with vitamin C"!) in steel canteen cups powered by a smear of C4 set on fire on their bottom, as well as the admonition to never stomp out a fire - there might be a bit of C4 in there!

I think there are not many left today who have a gut-level understanding of C-rats, since MRE's have been the stock in trade for nearly 40 years of combat troops today. I can recall hoarding the sugar and creamer packs from C-rats to use in making "icing" for the little cakes-in-cans, and everyone trying to get rid of their "ham and motherfuckers" (ham and lima beans) meals. I still carry a P-38 on my keychain to this day. C-rats are a thing of the past, but it still works wonders on cans of stuff that hasn't stepped into the 21st century and installed pull-tabs on the cans. Most recently, it was used to open a can of tamales for a midnight snack - it's still serviceable. Grace thinks I'm an idiot for still using it, but I can work it nearly as fast as her hand-crank can opener, and it gives me a sense of accomplishment.

Some of that stuff still comes in handy upon occasion. Once, when we were living in Gibsonville, NC, the power went out after a storm for about 3 days. So I dug through the closet and got out of my (still packed) kit a canteen cup, one of those little canteen stoves, and a trioxane bar that had not evaporated, and took it out on the back deck. I found an old brake rotor to use as a cooking base, and set about heating up some coffee in the canteen cup with about a third of the trioxane bar, My son came out to see what was going on, and laughed at me saying "there just ain't nothin' gonna get between you and your coffee, is there?" "Damn straight" with a grin was the reply.

Those things, more than the blood and choking smoke, fireballs and loud noises, are what I hope to keep with me when my mind finally evacuates it's AO.

Thanks for the story - it really should get published in an anthology. The future should always remember what the past was really like, even if only vicariously, through the eyes of someone else that was really there.



My keychain - P-38 top center, in the place of honor. The "key" at bottom center is for the trigger lock on my pistol. It's never used, but kept handy "just in case". The flash drive at left is full of information (256 GB), mostly encrypted but some medical "in the clear" that I think ought to be with me wherever I go.

.