An Assault Helicopter Unit in Vietnam (Undaunted Valor 1)

KABOOM!

The sound of an explosion cut him off in mid-sentence. I looked up to see the door of the latrine Bob had just entered fly off its hinges as Bob was propelled through the screen with a fireball launching him. We were all up and moving to get out of the mess hall, not sure if we were under attack. And we were heading towards Bob.

“Medic! Medic!” called others that were closer and attempting to help Bob. Our medical officer, Doc, arrived and started assessing the burns on Bob’s back, ass and genitals. Two medics arrived, and we gently picked Bob up and placed him facedown on a stretcher.

“Get the ambulance. We need to get him to the MASH unit now,” Doc said to one of the medics, who sprinted off to get the jeep that was used as an ambulance. When it arrived, six of us picked up Bob, who wasn’t hurting as bad now since Doc had administered a shot of morphine. Bob’s burns were already starting to blister.

The first sergeant asked, “Doc, how bad is it?”

“I would say it’s bad. Looks like second-degree burns, maybe third. Might have someone start packing his stuff as he’s probably going to be medivacked back to the States,” Doc stated. About then, the XO arrived. Better late than never.

“What happened?” he asked no one and everyone.

One of the soldiers who’d been in a tent close to the latrine area spoke up first. “Sir, the latrine just blew up.”

“Latrines just don’t blow up. What happened?” the XO fired off. No one wanted to answer now for fear of getting their ass chewed out for answering. Finally the first sergeant spoke up.

“Sir, let me look into this and I’ll get back to you as soon as we have it figured out.” It appeared that a cooler head was prevailing here.

“You do that, First Sergeant, but I want some answers.” And with that, the XO walked off. He never bothered to ask how Bob was doing. The XO was still sporting the rash on his neck from the other night’s mortar attack. Seemed he had run out of his tent, heading for our one bunker, and plowed right into a tent rope holding the sides of one of the GP Medium tents. Nearly hung himself on the rope. He put himself in for a Purple Heart, but no one would sign as a corroborating witness, not even Doc.

The latrine that had exploded was destroyed, but there were two others available for use and the first sergeant started his investigation there. It didn’t take long for him to determine the cause of the explosion. Instead of putting diesel fuel in the cans under the latrine, the village idiot on shit detail had apparently used JP-4 aviation fuel, which was highly explosive. Bob must have lit the cigar after he’d sat on the toilet and it ignited the fumes from the JP-4. Diesel fuel and JP-4 had distinctly different odors, but with his head cold, he’d probably never smelled the difference. The other two latrines also had JP-4 fuel in the cans as well. Immediately, all the latrines were closed and the first sergeant went looking for the kid who was on shit detail. So did some of the other soldiers.

Chapter 15

Attention to Orders

It was early May and I was sitting in a refuel point when one of the aircraft commanders approached me.

“Hey, Dan. Two newbies arrived today.”

“Damn, that makes me feel good. Any idea what their names are?”

“One I don’t know, but the other is Major Anthony, our new company commander,” he replied. Well, I guessed I wouldn’t be jerking his chain anytime soon. I hoped the other was a warrant officer.

“W

hat’s the rank on the other guy?” I asked.

“He’s a warrant too,” he said. I might be able to pass off some shit details to him, I was thinking. For the rest of the day, I concentrated on my flying, especially getting better at this formation flying, as we were still moving the Second and Third Brigade around.

Arriving back at the Chicken Coop, I was thinking of one thing—a cold beer. I dropped my flight gear in my tent and headed to the club. It was closed. What’s up with this? I returned to my tent to find Lou sitting there on his bunk. “Hey, Lou, why is the club closed?”

“We got a new CO and he wants to see all the pilots in the mess hall after chow. The club’s closed until after that meeting. You want a beer? I have a couple here, but not very cold.”

“Hell yeah, and I don’t care how cold they are. I heard we got a new warrant in today.”

“Yeah, he’s in the next tent over. His name is Hanna.”

“Dave Hanna?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think that’s it. Why, you know him?”

“Yeah, we were together at Fort Polk. I’m going to find him.” As I got up to walk out, who walked in but Dave.

“Dave, how the hell are you?”

Dave had started basic training with me at Fort Polk and was supposed to start in my flight class but had to drop out for two weeks to go home on emergency leave. It put him in a class behind me in flight school. He was married and a baby was on the way. This guy was amazing when it came to musical instruments. Piano, guitar, you name it, he played it.