“Roger, we will cover,” Lobo 6 indicated. A sigh of relief could be heard in almost every aircraft in the flight. Crews just felt better knowing that Lobo was covering them, sort of like a guardian angel. Experience had shown that when things got really bad, Lobo gave a maximum effort to help the assault aircraft, even making gun runs when they were out of ammo just to divert the enemy’s attention away from the Slicks. Good-natured barbs were tossed between gun crews and Slick crews. Gun crews would state that “Slicks are for kids.” Slick crews agreed with that statement to a point and added, “With balls.” Slick pilots would always gladly jump at a chance to fly front seat in a gunship, especially the AH-1G Cobra. Never saw a gun pilot jump at the chance to fly in a Slick on a combat assault or any other mission. Wonder why?
Chapter 13
Ground Pounder
“Dog Breath Six, Bulldog Six-One, we are in heavy contact. Bunkers, over,” the young second platoon leader called in an anxious voice. It was his first time in combat, having just arrived in-country.
“Bulldog Six-One, Dog Breath Six, roger. Call for arty fire,” the company commander calmly directed. This was not his first rodeo.
On the ground, the infantry company commander, Captain Stubbs, felt blessed that his entire rifle company was on the ground with him, minus the mortar platoon, but including the battalion scout platoon. As soon as the aircraft had cleared the LZ, Captain Stubbs had directed his artillery fire support officer, FSO, to start calling for artillery fire on one side of the LZ to suppress fire from what appeared to be dug-in bunkers. The FSO, had requested and received, another flight of Blue Max attack helicopters and was in contact with Blue Max. He was directing their fire where he felt their nineteen-pound 2.75-inch air-to-ground rockets could do the most good. Some of those rockets were flechettes, which were highly effective against troops that had no overhead cover. Against a bunker, flechettes were ineffective.
In conjunction with artillery fire pounding one side of the LZ and keeping enemy forces at bay, Captain Stubbs began to maneuver the scout platoon that was attached and receiving the least ground fire towards the tree line. If that platoon could get in a position to flank the enemy, the other three platoons that were currently pinned down in the middle of the landing zone would place supporting and suppressive fire on the enemy positions. However, since the enemy was positioned in a circle around the LZ, this was not a simple task, and the ground force began to take casualties. As was typical in these situations, and what was complicating his ability to fight the fight, however, was the fact that at twenty-five hundred feet above in a helicopter was his battalion commander, who thought he was helping by giving the captain instructions on what to do. Since this was the only real show in town, the brigade commander, in his own helicopter flying a thousand feet above the battalion commander, was providing guidance to the battalion commander on how to fight this fight. The on
ly result could be confusion for the ground commander. Captain Stubbs was on his second tour in Vietnam and knew what needed to be done. He turned off his battalion command radio and got busy doing his job as he saw fit. He knew that he had to get the LZ secured for the next lift, which would be arriving shortly.
“Dog Breath Six, Doberman Six-One,” the scout platoon leader called Captain Stubbs. Small-arms fire could be heard in the background, but no explosions.
“Go ahead, Doberman Six-One.”
“Dog Breath Six, we have secured this portion of the tree line. There’s another open area behind this tree line, and we’re not receiving any contact from the far tree line.”
“Doberman Six-One, do you have anyone across to that far tree line?”
“Roger, Dog Breath, I pushed out one squad. Negative contact.”
“Doberman Six-One, hold your position. Be prepared to pop smoke and secure that LZ.”
“Roger, Doberman Six-One out.”
Switching to his other radio, the company commander attempted to contact White One, with no success. Finally he realized he must resort to contacting the battalion commander, who was probably hopping mad that he hadn’t been talking to him for the past ten minutes.
“Crescent Six, Dog Breath Six. Over.”
In an irate voice, Crescent Six replied, “Dog Breath Six, where the hell have you been?”
Boy, he sounds pissed, Stubbs realized. Tough, he isn’t down here. “Crescent Six, we’re having some radio trouble.” Wonder how many times that lie has been told in this war. “Crescent Six, LZ is not secured. Repeat, LZ is not secured. Have second lift land one klick to the east, and contact Doberman Six-One. He’s securing alternate LZ and will pop smoke. Over.”
“Dog Breath Six, roger. Second lift is departing for your location at this time. Be prepared to receive a third lift with other elements to be determined. Over.”
“Crescent Six, understood. Out.” So Battalion is piling on forces here. Other elements will probably be another rifle company. Wonder how big this is going to get? Captain Stubbs pondered. In the distance, the sound of aircraft could be heard, but not in his immediate direction, and they weren’t helicopters.
Simultaneously, an explosion impacted the center of the LZ. Captain Stubbs turned to his FSO, who immediately explained, “That’s not the artillery, that’s mortars. Theirs, not ours.”
Captain Stubbs scanned the ridge lines for telltale smoke from the enemy mortar position. “Crescent Six, Dog Breath Six. Enemy mortars on the western ridge line. Do you have it in sight?”
“Dog Breath, affirmative. Putting fast movers on it.” As the battalion commander explained his intent, another mortar round hit the LZ. Well, I wish you would be damn quick about getting them on it, Captain Stubbs thought.
Tugging on his shirt, the FSO said, “We have two fast movers inbound with napalm. Where do you want it?”
“On the damn mortar position on the west ridge line.” He pointed. “Tell the FAC to hit it and quick,” Captain Stubbs directed.
Above the ground fight was an OV-10 US Air Force Bronco aircraft. That aircraft was the go-between for the ground commander and the Air Force jets supporting the fight. The FAC, or forward air controller, was talking to the FSO and received the coordinates where the mortar was suspected. With that information, the FAC had little difficulty in spotting the mortar firing position. Rolling on to his back, the pilot looked up to see the ground. He entered a steep dive, maintaining visual contact with the enemy mortar. At one thousand feet, he fired a 2.75-inch air-to-ground rocket at the target, but the rocket was only a smoke round to show the fast-moving jets where the target was for them to drop their ordnance. The Bronco executed a snap roll and pulled out of his dive, climbing back to altitude. A minute later, the west ridge erupted in flames as two F4F aircraft made a low pass and dropped four napalm bombs. The mortar position wasn’t heard from again. Captain Stubbs’s two platoons in the LZ were still pinned down from fire in the bunkers, but at least the mortar was no longer a threat, and help was on the way.
Chapter 14
Pile On
“White One, Crescent Six, over.” The infantry battalion commander contacted Flight Leader as he lifted off with the second lift.