“Good morning, Posey. How’s she look?” I asked my crew chief.
“All’s good, Mr. C,” he answered as he closed the engine cowling.
“Quillin, how’s the guns and ammo?” I asked my gunner.
“Fresh cans of ammo this morning, Mr. Cory. We good,” he responded. I climbed up and looked over the rotor head while my copilot for the day, WO1 Ron Fender, did the walk-around inspection and tail rotor. All appeared to be good. We strapped in, started the engine and waited, ready to assume a mission if called upon.
“Chicken-man One-Niner, Chicken-man Three India, over,” the radio crackled. It was Flight Operations.
“Chicken-man Three India, Chicken-man One-Niner, go ahead.”
“Hey, One-Niner, Two-Seven is down. Assume his mission, and contact Badger Six when you reach Quan Loi for further instructions,” Flight Operations instructed.
“Roger, Three India, One-Niner has it.”
I started pulling power. “Okay, guys, coming out.” About this time, I saw “Chip” Rumble, Chicken-man Two-Seven, along with his copilot, WO1 McCartney, waving to me and running over. I set the aircraft back down.
Jumping up on the skid next to my door, Chip asked, “Hey, Dan, I’m low-time pilot for the month. Let me take the mission.” He had just returned from a seven-day R&R trip to Hawaii and hadn’t flown much for the past month.
“You got it,” I said as Ron and I unstrapped and climbed out, turning the aircraft over to Chip and McCartney. We watched as they hovered out of the Chicken Pen and on to the runway. We were walking back to Flight Operations when they started down the runway and disappeared behind the trees. Reaching Flight Operations, we went in. Sergeant First Class Robinson was crying. He saw us and immediately got this shocked look on his face.
“Oh my God. Who’s flying your aircraft?” he asked.
I told him. “Why, what’s the problem?”
“They got off the runway and were climbing out when the rotor head came off. They’re all dead.”
I was stunned and suddenly sick to my stomach. Outside, I threw up. Ron dropped to his knees and stared at the ground. I went back to my room and just sat on the bed. Thirty minutes later, Major Saunders stopped by.
“You okay, Dan?” he asked.
“I don’t know, sir. I checked that head and all looked good. What happened?”
“Don’t know, but the accident investigation board will figure it out. You just take it easy.” He left, but about an hour later, he was back.
“Dan, I hate to ask, but can you take a mission? It seems Lieutenant Weed is too upset to fly his mission and has brought his aircraft back.” Lieutenant Weed was close to Chip, the aircraft commander.
“Yes, sir. I got it.” I picked up my gear.
“I’ll walk out with you. I want to see just how upset he is.”
The major and I walked together to the flight line. We didn’t say much as there wasn’t a lot to say. I didn’t expect what came at me. As soon as Lieutenant Weed saw me, he threw his helmet on the ground and came at me. “You son of a bitch, Cory! This is your damn fault.”
Major Saunders stepped between us. “Lieutenant, stop right there. Get your shit and go to your room. Not another word. Do you hear me? Now go!” Turning to me, the CO said, “Dan, forget this and get on with the mission.”
This wasn’t over, however.
That night at the club, Lieutenant Weed proceeded to loudly badmouth me. I let it go, as he was a lieutenant and I was just a warrant, but finally I’d had enough.
“Hey, Lieutenant Dick Weed, with all due respect for your rank, go to hell!”
I knew using his full name, as modified by the warrant officers, would piss him off, and it did. With that, he was up and heading straight for me. I was off my barstool and eager to get it on with him, looking forward to hurting him. I was not a brawler but could hold my own in a fight. Just before he got to me, Captain Armstrong, a platoon leader, stepped behind him and jerked him off his feet.
“Don’t you dare move, Lieutenant.” Captain Armstrong was an infantry officer of considerable size. Very tall and very muscular, he was a no-nonsense man. “Mr. Cory, I think you should retire for the night. Now!” he told me.
“Yes, sir.” And I departed back to my room in the warrant officers’ hooch.
“Lieutenant Weed, you will go to your room, and don’t leave until the major calls you. Understood?”