Once on the ground, Frank could see that Kelly was attempting to lower Mike’s seat. The pilot seats were designed to be tilted backwards so the pilots could be pulled out of their seats if wounded. That was how it was supposed to work, but Kelly couldn’t get the seat to lie back. With the help of Smith, the seat finally released and they pulled Mike out and laid him on the cargo floor. His leg was still bleeding, but only a trickle at this point.
Frank, being the senior officer, asked what happened, and Lieutenant Bond explained. When he was done, Frank said, “Look, medevac is going to have to come out of Camp Holloway to get Mike, so it’ll be quicker for you to fly him back there rather than wait. Is your aircraft okay?” Frank asked.
“What do you think, Kelly?” asked Lieutenant Bond.
“I don’t see any damage around the engine or transmission and we aren’t leaking any fluids. Rotor blades sound fine and there are no holes in the tail boom. I think all the damage is in the nose. We don’t have any radios, but I think we’re okay aside from that.”
“All right, get going, then. I’ll call ahead and have medics standing by at Camp Holloway.” He turned to Mike. “Is that going to be okay with you, Mike?”
“Yes, sir, let’s just get going,” Mike responded, lying on the floor. They could tell he was in pain but trying to keep it together. Mike was going home.32
Firebase 5 and Firebase 6
Chapter 30
Abort
Reid’s aircraft lay on its side, rotor blades torn off, tail boom broken in half, and it was outside the wire, down the hill on the friendly side, if there was any friendly side left. Craig Tonjes was shaking the cobwebs out of his brain as light began to penetrate his vision. Although the crash had occurred in what appeared to be an instant, time stood still as Craig watched the sky replace the ground, and then nothing as the aircraft impacted. He lay in his seat for a minute, trying to comprehend what had happened, then realized he had to get out of the aircraft before it caught fire or exploded. As the aircraft lay on its left side, he was on the top of the aircraft, being on the right side. Mike Patterson would be on the bottom, under the aircraft, on the left side. He looked forward and could see Gordon moving in the cockpit. Reid wasn’t moving but was slumped against his armored side plate. Craig didn’t initially notice the crimson stains on the ceiling of the aircraft in the cockpit above Reid.
“Lieutenant Bellem, are you okay?” Craig called out. Gordon was trying to get positioned so he could get out of the aircraft as he was lying on his side in a sitting position against the radio console.
“Yeah, now get out of here. Grab Patterson and help him,” Gordon directed. He turned and started to attempt to drop between his seat and Reid’s out the left-side cargo door.
“How’s Mr. Reid?” Craig asked.
“He’s dead. Now get out of here,” Gordon directed with a touch of anger in his voice.
As Craig was now ahead of Gordon and dropping through the same cargo door, he asked again, “Are you sure?”
“Dammit, Tonjes, he has no face. Now get out!”
Craig’s head snapped over and he now noticed the crimson blood and white matter above Reid’s head. As Reid was slumped forward, he didn’t see Reid’s face. As Craig lowered himself through the cabin to the ground, he saw Patterson squirming under the aircraft and clawing his way out. Grabbing Patterson’s arm, Craig attempted to drag Patterson free of the aircraft. That was when he realized that his ankle was either badly sprained or broken. When Gordon exited the aircraft, both assisted Patterson. They all wanted to be far away from the aircraft in case of a fire or explosion. Once clear of the aircraft, they held their position, attempting to figure out the next move. The safest route was back up the hill to the firebase, as long as they could reach that portion held by friendly forces. Seeing NVA soldiers moving up the hill in their direction, Gordon took charge of the situation.
“Okay, stay low and let’s head uphill to the wire and get inside,” he directed them. He started out, crouching low and jogging uphill. Craig and Patterson fell in behind him with Patterson assisting Craig. As they approached the wire that was about twenty meters above them, an American officer appeared on the other side of the berm.
“There’s an opening in the wire to your left. Head over there and get in here,” he hollered above the sounds of small-arms fire, pointing to his right. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, and Gordon quickly decided that was the way they were going, concertina wire or not. Crawling as fast as they could, the three crew members worked their way through the wire. Once through, all three took off at a sprint to get over the berm. Reaching the far side, they sat down with their backs to the berm.
“Are you guys okay? Where’s the fourth guy? You have a crew of four, right?” the American officer who had waved them through the wire asked.
Gordon spoke up. “He didn’t make it. He took one to the face.”
“Damn.” After letting the crew catch their breath for a minute, the officer directed them to what was considered the command bunker. There were three FM radios on a field table and two ARVN soldiers talking on the radios, receiving reports from the perimeter and sending reports to higher headquarters.
“I’m Lieutenant Brian Thacker. The senior advisor is Sergeant First Class Salley. I have the artillery observation team up here. Salley’s out on the perimeter now. We had ten US advisors up here, and now we have seven.” In the corner of the bunker, six bodies wrapped in ponchos were noted. “We lost three last night when a sapper got in. We lost three more about an hour ago when a RPG took out a bunker. The northern perimeter was overrun this morning. We’ve been able to hold them at bay with close air support, but if that runs out, we probably can’t hold this position.”
Sergeant Salley sprinted through the door with his head down, not noticing the crew members. “Damn, Lieutenant, that artillery’s about the only thing holding them off.” Looking up, he was surprised to see the crew. “You guys made it out of that thing?”
“One of us didn’t. I’m Lieutenant Bellem.” They shook hands.
“Oh, sir, Sergeant First Class Salley. I’ll try to get another aircraft in here to get you guys out, but not sure if that’s going to happen. Do you need weapons? If so, take one from that stack, and the ammo is over there,” Salley said, pointing to a stack of discarded M16s. “I want you to stay in this bunker, and each of you take a firing port and shoot at anyone that isn’t in a green uniform. Any questions?” he asked, looking at Lieutenant Bellem.
Gordon just looked at him. “You’re in charge here. Need anything, tell me what yo
u want done.”
“For now, just take up a firing position and shoot anyone you can. I’m going to get on the radio and see if I can get us some help.”
With that, Salley was reaching for a radio. The bunker was all sandbags with four one-foot-by-one-foot openings facing the north side towards the enemy and a door on the south side. There was a dividing wall of sandbags in the middle of the bunker, creating two rooms with a doorway from one to the other on the right side of the bunker.