Ch 15: The Darkness
A very curious coincidence went down about that time, my direct participation with the Recon boys ended by random chance. My last mission working with them was the time they sprang the previously mentioned double ambush up in the north end of the valley. My distraction wasn�t planned, it just happened. I�d be off doing something really important like chasing monkeys through the tree tops and get back to find some other chitt had gone down.
We had begun working double teams on rotation and it was a period when we really didn�t see much of each other save for evening chow or at the club. Anyway, one day I came back with a couple of monkey scalps and found out that one of the Recon teams had been hit in their NDP. Couple of dead and a couple wounded. One of our slicks had extracted them and the pilot said there were a lot of dead Sons of Ho scattered about the perimeter, maybe 12-18 or so. We were philosophical about it for the most part, but sure did hate to see these guys get hurt. General consensus was that the dinks paid a dear price for what they did and we were pretty damn sure it wouldn�t happen again.
A really perceptive person would have known otherwise. The mission surge we were pulling wasn�t done to amuse the brass. In point of fact we were seeing increased activity. The usual flight hour schedule for a Scout normally ran around 60-80 hours per month, but it had ramped up to near 100 very abruptly. We had a �new� platoon leader, and I was training him out in the woods like everybody else. An ROTC 1st Lt. named Hector C. Scrawny little fug, egotistical and full of himself. Well, a fella needn�t worry much about that sort in that environment since attitude is the first casualty of any war. Now I didn�t think much of Hector�s skill as an aviator and that was going to be a problem. He had a tendency to fixate on things to the exclusion of more important stuff like dead trees looming ahead, or gauges past the red line.
I think there is a sidebar due here: The LOH was powdered by the Allison C250 turbine. It had an N1(compressor) redline expressed in percent, 100% being 60,000 rpm. The N2 or turbine was redlined at 6000 rpm but we didn�t bother with that since it was governed and was always superimposed on the rotor RPM (redline 540 rpm; operating speed was 520. The engine was rated at 317 SHP by Allison and was PILOT de-rated to 250 SHP due to gauge limits. Most of the time. Now this fella Hector, he had this issue with the LOH that you either learned to avoid or you picked up your Combat Infantry Badge.
It was called the Hughes Tailspin and what it amounted to was a loss of anti-torque command authority (tail rotor)due to high torque loads on the main rotor while hovering out of ground effect. In simple terms, too much torque in the main rotor could not be controlled by the tail rotor in certain circumstances and the result was an abrupt and rather violent yaw to the right which continued until one reduced power to the system or hit the mud, whichever came first. We lost two LOHs to that maneuver during my first tour as I recall and that�s fairly remarkable since we were doing the silk and goggles thing up in the high country most of the time where it is much more likely to occur. Hector, he just didn�t get it. He was just an FNG that wanted to be a platoon leader. Me, well I was the aircraft-fuggin�-commander. He was in charge of me (legally) and I were in charge of him when we was in my office. He had issues with that, so I always ended my tirades with ��sir.� Nobody else that ever flew in a LOH used that word over the intercom system in the history of the war. Me, I did, just to sooth his ruffled feathers. Like �Ya [bleep]� idiot! Don�t hit that [bleep]� tree�.sir!� I had a floor mic switch and most of the time I was stompin� it like I was keeping time to bongo drums or something. It makes the LOH shake a little when you hit it hard. My gunner one day asked me to take it easy on the floor switch and I asked if he thought I was being too hard on the LT. �No sir, he�s a fuggin� moron. It�s just we can�t get those switches through supply all that quick.�
The other stunt he liked to pull was the �let�s see just how quick Dan�s reflexes are!� maneuver. That was the tail spin thing. We�we the grizzled experienced survivors, we never began to hover early in a mission, regardless of configuration. We burned off fuel and ordinance before any of that foolishness went down. Not Hector. He was�in his mind�invincible and not beholden to the laws of physics or preachings of the Wright Brothers. �L-T, keep it above translational lift, don�t hover here.���.�L-T!� �IGOTITYOUCRAZYMOTHERPHUCKERSIR!!� One day I thought my gunner was gonna jump. It weren�t but about 20� down� We got to about 40 hours of dual in a world where 20 usually was sufficient and I had to go to the XO for a chat. Now this isn�t the kind of chat you want to have with anybody but I was firmly convinced that Hector was dangerous in the wrong direction and I liked the boys that would be flying with him. I hated laying this on Dave the XO but it had to be done. Next day after the fireside chat Dave took him out on a mission to the Valley. I liked Dave and still do. He had to do what he did, and since he was one of the odd guys that drove a desk and maintained proficiency with the Group W Bench�.I flew off to chase monkeys on my own.
Another team got hit that evening, and it weren�t good. One survivor out of 6 and there were, to hear it told, dinks stacked up around their perimeter like cord wood. The story I heard later on is that Hector hoovered down into a very confined LZ and landed after the decision was made to expedite extraction with the LOH. Our Blues were on the ground as well but it would have been a major undertaking to carry the dead down to a Huey sized LZ, so it was one at a time in the LOH. They got the wounded survivor out and it was the second or third guy that forever ruined Hector. The jarhead had died spread eagle and rigor had set in. There was no way he was going to fit in the cargo compartment of the LOH, so right there in front of Hector�s tender sensibilities the grunts go the fella properly oriented and broke a couple limbs to make him a bit more flexible. Now that ain�t pretty and my apologies to the family and all that, but after they put him in the LOH ol� Hector quit workin�. I mean it was zombie time for him. Dunno if he drooled or not, never asked. Dave took the controls and finished the mission�..and he had one helluva problem on his hands.
I�m not going to belabor the Hector story a lot longer and I want you to know his tale was an anomaly. The last day we flew together we were sent on a battle damage assessment (BDA) where a Spectre had jumped a convoy on the western fringe of the Valley. I stitched 2 dinks hiding in a 48� culvert as we flew by and Hector schized out and tried to kill us again. He had already been assigned as the Platoon Leader and about 30 days later when flight hour summaries were posted I mentioned to Dave that most of the Scouts had flown anywhere from 90-130 hours in the last month except Hector. He had eeked (not a typo) out 17 hours doing ash and trash flights when he could hook them, some as a slick co-pilot. That chitt didn't fly then and probably doesn't fly today. Hector had taken over the scheduling from me for obvious reasons and thus greased his way out of the unit into the Brigade liaison position. He never looked any of us in the eye after that.
Another team got hit a few days later and they had one survivor. This time the firefight was on when the Cavalry came over the horizon and the guy on the ground did a Hal Moore and called fire on his position. It worked and he got a purple heart from a piece of rocket shrapnel that ricocheted off the radio and nicked his dick. Don�t call for close air support from Guns unless you�re sincere.
The dinks had brought dogs in to track them down and in their world it was a new experience for which they were not prepared. 5 teams got hit in a period of about 3 weeks and the losses were too high to continue. We pulled the Recon boys out and had only minor interaction with them afterwards.
One thing they did for us I�ll never be able to repay is give us all their C4�all 1,800 pounds of it. We traded them pen flare sets for the C4. I was the platoon ordinance officer. ARRRRGH! They did not make LZs for extraction. If they needed a lift they either came out in Maguire Rigs or humped to someplace we could snatch them without a lot of fuss. They never brought us into a hot LZ and that by God is a good thing.
To this day I remember those boys and the missions they ran like it was yesterday. I never in my life presumed to be the meanest SOB in the Valley after I got to know them. I weren�t. Most twisted, maybe, but I was a wuss next to those fellas.
SEMPER FI!
