An Assault Helicopter Unit in Vietnam (Undaunted Valor 1)

“I got it.” I turned to a heading of 180 degrees, as the Chicken Coop was due south of Song Be. I started to relax. It felt good to sit back and scan the instruments and then look outside, scan the instruments and look outsi

de. It was pounded into us in school never to get fixated on the instruments or the outside but be scanning constantly. And listen. Listen to the sound of the aircraft. The sound of the rotor blades. The sound of the engine. The sound of the radios. Sometimes your hearing would alert you to the first indicator of trouble, like the engine suddenly becoming quiet! Or a sudden whistling sound, which generally meant you had a bullet hole in a rotor blade. Or the sudden increase in engine noise that indicated a lost throttle governor or a compressor stall. Almost every change in sound required an immediate response.

We continued on to Lai Khe, and Tony let me take the aircraft into the revetment. As we shut down the aircraft, Mutt and Jeff began the process of cleaning it, pulling guns off and removing trash. Tony started the critique. “You did okay, and I’m going to sign off your orientation ride. You’ll get formation flying in soon enough with another aircraft commander, but I don’t foresee any problems. Do you?”

“No, I got no problem with formation flying,” I lied. I really wasn’t crazy about formation flying. In fact, I was hoping to go to a medical evacuation unit, commonly referred to as a medevac unit, where it was all single-ship flying. Oh, that lie would come back to bite me in the ass.

“Okay, then let’s head into Ops and get a beer,” Tony said.

“Don’t we need to help them get the aircraft cleaned up?” I asked. Mutt and Jeff stopped what they were doing and looked at me. Did I just screw up again?

“Thank you, Mr. Cory, but we got it,” Mutt said. Mr. Cory, not “New Guy.”

“Okay, thanks for a great day,” I stammered and fell in alongside Tony as we carried our gear and walked to the operations office to turn in logbooks and aircraft records. Tony also suggested that we stop by maintenance and give the maintenance officer a heads-up that the bird was good for tomorrow’s missions. After I dropped my gear and met Tony for a beer, for which I paid the outrageous price of fifty cents, I headed to the PX. The crew chief and door gunner appreciated the case of beer I dropped off on their bunks that evening.

Chapter 9

First Mission

“Mr. Cory, wake up, sir,” I heard as a light penetrated my dreams.

“What time is it? Why?” I asked.

“Sir, you’re flying today with Mr. Leak. Launch time is zero five hundred hours. It’s zero four hundred hours now. Mr. Leak said he would meet you in the mess hall,” said the ops clerk. Wonder if he ever gets cussed out for waking guys up?

“Okay, I’m up.” I’d just gotten cleared to fly yesterday. That was why I had come here, but so early? Hell, I’d been sleeping in each morning for close to a week. No need for a cold shower, so just a quick shave and brush my teeth. I was attempting not to wake anyone, and then I noticed that everyone else in our tent was getting up and moving. After dressing, I headed to the mess hall, which was the only “building” in our company area. Mr. Leak was just sitting down when I got in the line. What was on the menu? Coffee—that’s good; scrambled eggs—powdered eggs, really; bacon, undercooked; and pancakes with something that resembled syrup. I settled for the pancakes with butter and jelly. Of course coffee too. Sitting down next to Mr. Leak, I started to eat and then reconsidered after the first mouthful. Pancakes were undercooked. Just coffee today.

“You awake, New Guy?” asked Mr. Leak.

“Yep, what we got for today?” I responded.

“We’re flying log for First of the Seventh Cav down around Bien Hoa.” He went on to explain, “A log mission is generally flying to a firebase and staying there for the day, supporting the unit however they ask. You could fly supplies into company locations in the jungle, such as water, food and ammo. You might bring someone back that’s going home or on leave as well as take replacements to the unit. You might find yourself with the battalion commander in the back talking to his ground company commanders while you orbit at twenty-five hundred feet above them. Anything the battalion wants you to do, you do it. About all you don’t do is medevac missions, as medevac birds are called out for that, but in desperate situations you might. You certainly backhaul bodies as the medevac wouldn’t do that.” As we finished up our coffee, Mr. Leak said he’d meet me at the aircraft and to start the preflight if I got there first. We parted ways.

I stopped at my tent and grabbed my gear, which consisted of a flight helmet, leather gloves, and a sidearm as well as my map. I left the flak jacket and steel pot helmet behind as no one else was wearing them. Sergeant First Class Robinson had helped me put the map together and had cautioned me, “Mr. Cory, never mark unit call signs or frequencies on the map. If that map had those locations and blew out, that would be a serious security breach.” Words to remember.

My sidearm was a .38 Special pistol. I was a good shot with a rifle or a shotgun, but I couldn’t hit my ass with that pistol. I was convinced that I was going to have to get a long gun and soon. The Army issued M-16s at this time, and I also found those difficult to shoot, having used the beautiful and accurate M-14 in basic training. Looking at the other pilots, I realized we had an assortment of weapons and none of them were Army issue. Mr. Leak carried the M-1 carbine of World War II vintage. Another pilot carried an AR-15 that the Air Force issued to ground controllers. One pilot was carrying a World War II Browning automatic rifle! Swedish K and British Sterlings were popular as well. Lastly, one pilot was toting the M-79 grenade launcher with a sandbag full of grenades. Crew chiefs and door gunners carried M-16s besides the two M60 machine guns on the aircraft.

In flight, both the crew chief and the door gunner manned the two 7.62 mm M60 machine guns that were on fixed posts. The guns could be rotated 180 degrees front to back and five degrees up and ninety degrees down. Mounted that way, the crew couldn’t shoot their own aircraft, which had happened in the early days of the Vietnam War, when those guns were suspended from the ceiling of the aircraft on a cable. Ammo for the guns lay in a can strapped to the floor of the aircraft below the gun and usually had about three thousand rounds. When not flying, the crew chief was responsible for the maintenance of the aircraft and the door gunner was responsible for the maintenance and cleaning of the guns. Dirty guns didn’t work. He also assisted the crew chief.

I put my stuff in the right seat of the aircraft, which in this unit was where the copilot sat even though there were more instruments for instrument flight, which was seldom done. I climbed up on the top of the aircraft and started the preflight. Jesus nut, tight, slip marks aligned, check. Pitch change horns tight, slip marks aligned, safety wires connected, check. Push-pull tubes attached and slip marks aligned, check. Every nut on the rotor head had a slippage mark that would indicate if a nut was loose, and most had a safety wire as well that should be connected and not broken. Rotor mast, no cuts or cracks, check. Attention to details. Up top was all done, so I dropped down and started on the body as Mr. Leak walked up.

“Howard, did he miss anything?” he asked the crew chief.

“No, sir, seems New Guy knows what he’s doing,” Howard answered.

Crap, I was back to being New Guy. I continued my walk-around, checking the engine. No disconnected hoses; no broken safety wires; no loose bolts or nuts; slippage marks all aligned. Mr. Leak climbed up top and went over the rotor head as well and then looked at the tail rotor.

“Cory, always check the rotor head and the tail rotor as well as the tail boom bolts. Almost anything else can fall off the aircraft and you’ll be okay. Lose any of those three and your day is screwed. The only other thing that could give you a bad day is a frozen transmission, and there’s nothing you can do about that except check the oil temperature and pressure once you start the aircraft and hope you don’t get a chip detector light for either the engine or the transmission.”

Once Mr. Leak was satisfied, we climbed in and I started the preflight procedures. As the engine fired up, Mr. Leak set radio frequencies and called for takeoff clearance. As soon as I had completed the flight controls check, he said he had the aircraft, and I responded, “You have it.”

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The door gunner and Howard came over the headsets next.

“Clear right.”

“Clear left.”