Ch 11: They are Lurking for YOU.
At Camp Eagle we normally ran a first and last light patrol along the rocket belt, or that region that describes the maximum effective launch distance for the 122mm rocket. It were a major piece of problem on odd intervals. Not long after we�d returned to Eagle one hit an engineer company mess hall about 5:30 one afternoon and killed a fair number of our boys. It was not something we ignored but it was so damn hard to defend against our hearts weren�t in it. Best part was down at the end of the run near the Hi Van Pass there was a spring fed bath where the maidens used to hang out and they always put on a show for us when we zipped around the base of the ridge and overflew the place. One day on the way back to camp there was a train rolling up the rail along QL-1. They�d gotten hit so many times by mines they put the locomotive in the rear and pushed the cars along their route. I flew up behind and through the steam plume�yeah, it was steam powered�went a little further and lightly touched down on one of the box cars just for sport then hopped off and ran on up the road about 6� high and 80 knots. Couple of kids walking along the road shoulder up ahead, thought I�d buzz them a little and as I drew close this little 8 year old fug whirls around and throws a softball size rubber ball at me. Came within a few inches of hitting the tail rotor�and that was the last time I did any of that crap.
To put it in plain terms, we were suffering adrenaline withdrawal and terminal boredom. It was late September as I recall when one of the LOHs took fire out in the A Shau. Just to show how fugged up we were, we had a party to celebrate such an auspicious occasion. Within a short few weeks we began to take fire more often and see ample signs of activity in scattered places around the Valley. We also took advantage of our brief lull to get the Scouts some night flight experience, something we seldom did. It was my idea and ultimately it saved my ass one bleak dark night a few months later. Anyway, we were assigned a LOH and simply went out into the coastal lowlands and flew around, maybe did a couple of GCA approaches into Phu Bai. I particularly enjoyed one brief period when we had cloudless skies and a full moon. It was on such a night that I stumbled across a fire fight. Red tracers going one way, greenies the other. My presence overhead did not deter them at all and I called back to operations to report it and see if Division Operations knew anything about it. Nope, nada, zip. I watched for about 15 minutes�the back and forth continued unabated. Now it was a curious situation. I had no clearance to fire, no contact with the ground unit, and they were almost certainly ARVN forces on one side and VC on the other. They were plinkin� at each other across a rice paddy about 50 yards wide and maybe 150 long.
One thing I liked about my job up in I Corps was the lack of towers and wires. It greatly simplified mission planning. No worry out there at all. I was without crew and the bird I flew had a full load of ammo for the minigun��..my mind was the Devil�s playground, and the only reservation I had was that sometimes we used Nungs in clandestine patrol mode and they carried AKs and dressed as NVA or VC. I did not wish to shoot any of those folks, nor did I wish to see a firefight on such a lovely night. Visibility was so very good�..I dropped down to bamboo top altitude and approached from the NW at about 80 knots, all nav lights off, right down the center of the paddy, gun in full deflection down. At the point that I was between the shooters I let a 2 seconds burst rip. I continued straight out, flipped on the lights and climbed up to about 1500� before circling back to see what was happening�nothing. All was quiet and it remained so for the balance of my flight. Yes, I did have reservations about the wisdom of my actions. A read of the action summary for the next two weeks revealed nothing about that evening, so in hindsight, I�m good with the results. My own personal shot across the bow as it were.
The Scout Platoon had the following pilots at this point. Moon Mullins, Johnny Sprott, Terry Petersen, Rich Pryor (no chitt) although he was humorless and white. Then there was me. A newbie named Billy Byers and a sweet promise of new meat in the pipeline. We had 7-8 LOHs in inventory and things were looking pretty good for us. Midnight struck on 1 October 1969 as we slept peacefully in our hooch. At 1 AM it began to rain.
Now I�d been scheduled for the first mission the next day and my bird was ready, all the flight gear in place. I�d once asked what the monsoon season was like and had been told it was something that developed gradually. Bullchitt. It went from a cloudless night to an unrelenting downpour that did not stop for 2 weeks. The Division weather guy said it rained 24� in the first 20 hours. Probably did�.I couldn�t see across the street to the Snake hooches and that was only about 40 yards. It was really novel the first day, and cool. Thank Jesus for the cool! We played cards, went to the chow hall, went to the Club, played cards, slept�and got cabin fever by the end of day two.
Our hooches were open air plywood and sheet metal. I had been wanting to do some rearranging on this point and when one of the other guys contrived a partition out of a flare parachute it was all the cue I needed. In skivvies and flip flops I picked up a hammer and headed for the ammo point where the Snakes were rearmed. Lots of wood there, and lots of dud rockets. I dismantled a couple of dozen rocket shipping boxes, boosted a few 2x4s from supply and dismembered a flechette rocket for the nail. 1100 in each rocket, about 2� long, maybe a bit less. Hardened steel. I lugged all this crap back to the hooch and found a saw, then got to work. Next thing I know, several other guys were off to the wood pile and we got busy. Come day 4 we had subdivided the hooch into 6 small bedrooms and a card room in the middle. I figured it was time for a Sanyo oscillating fan from the PX and when the wood dried, a paint job. Along the way I was designated the platoon ordinance officer and scheduling officer. Whoop-de-fuggin�-do.
After about a week the rain abated�a little�and we got scrambled. Diesel air horn blaring, a scramble to get dressed and up to ops��a Snake was down somewhere in the Valley and we had to go find it. I ran out to the line�yes, we�d had enough sense to put the doors on the LOHs but they leaked like sieves. No matter, I put on my mold covered helmet, strapped in and fired up�..one radio working�damn things didn�t like being soaked�..but it finally spooled up and I made contact with the Snake. Told him I had no FM radio. We launched into low scudding wet clouds and headed for Fire Base Birmingham as a flight of 3. Two Snakes and me. Other flights were spooling up�the Blues, Mad Gary�we had something to do! By God, we did it too! We flew out to Birmingham, refueled, parked and watched the rain. We did the same thing for 5 days running. No way in hell could we search anywhere to the west, the clouds were on the ground. It was frustrating to say the least. The question of the week: �How in fug did a Snake get out to the Valley and then go down?�
Well, it�s time to tell you about Nungs, CCN and FOB missions. As most of you are aware, to the west of South Vietnam is Laos in the north and Cambodia to the south. I don�t know a lot about our Sneaky Pete brethren but seem to recall that in general terms, CCN missions ran into Cambodia and FOB were in Laos. We sent Nung mercenaries into those countries via Hueys with Snake escort and they were in NVA uniform with proper equipment. Sometimes they operated inside the border regions and when this happened we knew about it because our free fire ROE would be modified within certain geographic areas�.NO FIRE. Makes sense, right? The tricky part is that we almost always put them in cold and extracted them hot. Well, that sucks pretty much, especially at night. Nungs were generally Vietnamese/Chinese mongrels, or other lost souls; mercenaries by any measure. They were not pussies; that�s a fact. They also provided some exemplary intelligence in the course of their missions. They might be out there a few days or a few weeks or longer sometimes. They often infiltrated NVA units as well. Big balls.
Anyway, the lost Snake had been escorting an FOB mission or some such and had gone down with a mayday. His wingman knew the general area where he�d lost his buddy but not precisely where. I can tell you from too much experience, olive drab is really hard to see on a triple canopy jungle floor.
Day six saw us give it up without a single flight to the Valley, then on Day 7 of the �search� the weather broke and we headed out on a standard recon mission in an area NOT where the bird had gone down. Have to tell you boys, we did not give up on our buddies that easily, any more than we paid strict attention to ROE. We entered the A Shau over the abandoned Fire Base(FSB) Rendezvous as we always had and always did, broke left to the search area, leaving our recon box behind us. We scoured hill and dale for almost 2 hours before heading back, gave our relief a briefing as to what we�d found in our recon box and�watched them break left. None of this was a result of conspiracy, we just did it. This continued all day and the next. On day 3 Mad Gary accompanied a team out to the valley and they went to the recon box we were supposed to be working. The Scout began picking up fresh sign immediately and it wasn�t long before he got fired up. Big brouhaha about that and in the afterglow Gary put 2 and 2 together and asked the team leads what the fug we�d been up to. They did not lie. You see, from our perspective, the only safety net we had was ourselves. We were way the hell and gone out in Indian country, beyond the artillery even, save for the 175mm guns at Birmingham and that was max range. We had precious little support. Gary understood this. He also understood we were had less fear of Leavenworth than where we were�and�that we were willing to get into a scrap so long as we knew somebody would come to snatch us up if we went down. He called Division Ops and got permission to resume the search. 13 days after the Snake went down we were out there and a Scout came so close to shooting this guy in a bomb crater�.�cept he didn�t have a shirt on and he was waving�.it was the AC from the Snake. The guy was so confused he didn�t even know which compass point the sun came up on in the morning. He had seen us many times but could not get our attention, so he�d slowly been following the direction we always used when we left the Valley�over FB Rendezvous. He only had about 30 miles to go. The front seater had been killed in the crash and for the first several days he had avoided many NVA patrols, but then got so ragged out that he just wandered aimlessly, his only sense of direction being the choppers flying home. Following the sun hadn�t worked well for him at all�.
Many NVA patrols��they were coming, all the signs said that. It was time to sharpen the fangs�.
