An Assault Helicopter Unit in Vietnam (Undaunted Valor 1)

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that today. Each of our companies needs a backhaul this morning and a resupply this afternoon. I may want to take up about midday and have a look-see. That okay?” the battalion commander asked.

“Sir, we work for you until you release us. What you want, we will attempt to accommodate.”

“Good. The S-3 air will give you the locations and frequencies for each unit. They should be loading your aircraft with the first load now, so the sooner you get started, the better. If you need anything, call us.”

“Thank you, sir.” And he was out the door. The S-3 air gave us the unit locations and call signs, which I plotted and wrote down on a separate piece

of paper. As he was wrapping up friendly information, Mike asked the enemy situation.

“Oh, yeah. As of two days ago, a chopper took fire at this location from AK-47s.” David looked at me as the S-3 air continued. I just nodded. “We caught four gooks coming down a trail here yesterday and found a cache site here. Last night, one of our ambushes blew Claymores on some people, but no bodies were found, only blood trails and scattered equipment. They estimated the group to be fifty people. Don’t know if they were NVA or VC. We have found some .51-cal antiaircraft guns southeast of An Loc, but nothing in this area so far. That’s about it.”

“Okay, then, we’ll get out and cranked. We’ll do the companies in order starting with A Company, if that’s okay,” Mike indicated.

“Yeah, that’ll work. I’ll let them know you’re coming so they’ll be ready for you.” The S-3 air picked up a radio handset.

Mike and I walked back to the aircraft and saw that it had a light load of some ammo. Morning missions usually meant picking up empty water and marmite cans from the night before and taking ammo in for the day ahead. As we started the aircraft, Dave asked, “Have you done any hover holes yet?”

“Just down around Long Binh, which I understand isn’t much compared to this area,” I replied.

“You’re about to experience the scariest thing about flying in Vietnam,” Mike said with a resigned voice.

“Scarier than formation flying?” I asked. I would come to regret that comment.

“What, you don’t like formation flying?” Mike shot me a look.

“I’m just not that comfortable with it,” I offered. I was unknowingly digging myself a hole.

“Who have you flown with in formation?” he asked.

“With Lou a couple of times and Bob Leach a couple of times.”

“Lou’s one of the best to learn from for formations. How did it go?” he asked as picked up to a hover, checking his power.

“Okay, I guess. Learned a lot.”

“Well, you’re about to get another lesson. Always check your hover power when going into hover holes. On this one with only a light load, it’s no problem, but this afternoon it’ll be hot and we’ll be loaded to the max. You don’t want to be over a hole and run out of power and pedal at the same time. I’ll take us in the first time and you have it the second time,” Mike said.

Our crew responded accordingly.

“Clear left.”

“Clear right.”

“Guns up.”

Since the Third Brigade had arrived in this province, a healthy respect for what the enemy could do had been developed. As soon as we were airborne, our crew chief and door gunner were looking of telltale tracer fire, especially the .51-cal rounds. Unlike US ammo, which used a red tracer round, the NVA used a green tracer round. Both were easy to spot, especially when it was heading for you. It sort of looked like a ping-pong ball on fire in daylight and a basketball on fire at night; at least, that was what your mind’s eye saw. Flying at ninety knots, if the enemy was shooting directly at you, they were probably going to miss as you would be past the point of aim. However, if they were aiming in front of you, then you were going to fly right into the round and your day would be ruined.

As we gained altitude over the firebase, Mike had me crank in the frequency for the first unit on the FM radio, and I gave them a call.

“Alpha Six, Chicken-man One-Seven, over.”

“Chicken-man One-Seven, Alpha Six India, go ahead.”

“Alpha Six, Chicken-man inbound to your location. Pop smoke.”

“Chicken-man, smoke out.”

Slowly out of the jungle, a small yellow cloud began to form, but I saw no landing zone or place to set down.