Part 8
Chinook dropping a load.
About this same time in late August, one of the Chinooks from Charlie Company
lifted a PA&E (A contract Engineering firm doing business for the US gov.)
pickup truck from a firebase called Roy, SE of Phu Bai, on QL1, the main
highway from South Viet Nam to North Viet Nam. The truck had driven
off the side of the mountain and crashed through about 100 foot of trees.
C Company was sent to retrieve the truck.
I was asked to take slings from headquarters to the site, and rig the truck so
it could be lifted back onto the road. I loaded the slings into the LOH
and flew to the firebase, landed and shut down. I gave the slings to a
couple of GIs and we started down the hillside to the truck.
Being all of 25, I figured it would be an easy day, so down I went into the
brush and to the truck. I watched while it was rigged, making sure it
wouldn't be dropped and damaged more. I continued to watch as the Chinook
came in and lifted the truck out of the woods and down to the road, where it
sat it down gently, and released the slings. A driver got in and drove
the truck to Phu Bai for minor repairs and return to the engineers.
I started up the hill. It grew as I climbed. The 100 feet down the
hill had turned into a 300 foot up hill climb. By the time I reached the
top, the 120-degree weather, the climb, and lack of exercise from flying,
caused a minor heat stroke. I did make the top, finally! I collapsed
in a jeep that was waiting for me, and for about an hour, didn't know if I was
going to fly my LOH back or ride in a medevac. For a short period, I
couldn't move, literally could not move.
While I was sitting in the jeep, trying not to die, 18 - 19 - 20 year old
GIs were running up and down the hill like it is flat open ground and spring
time. Of course these were the same young men who were humping 90 lb ammo
for artillery tubes all day. For them it was a change in duties and a little
fun. For me, it was almost death.
From then on, I would agree to ferry slings or men, but not try to be 19 again.
Of course, smoking 3 - 5 packs of cigarettes a day probably didn't help
any either.
Moving Firebase from Ashau - Acting
LNO
About September of 1969 we were starting to move the firebases in the Ashau
Valley back to safer ground. The monsoons in the late fall and winter
would prevent us from resupplying them, and the road that was used in the
summer would be mud and almost impassable during the winter months. (The
predictions were true, the month of October we had 60 inches of rain. The
Ashau valley for the fall and winter ended up with over 260 inches of rain.)
It is to be remembered that I was the battalion S-2, and LOH IP. I held
my own staff section and answered to the battalion XO for administrative
functions, and the Commanding Officer for all else. This was true with
all the staff sections.
The S-3 was a Major Phiffer at this time. Major Phifer was a short, fat
major who had been an IP at Wolters before arriving in Viet Nam. At some
point he decided that he was the battalion XO or Commander. He walked
into my office one bright shinny afternoon and told me that I would be taken to
Fire Base Fox, on the edge of the Ashau, do the coordination as Liaison Officer
(LNO), spend the night, and the next morning would be the OIC for the movement
of the fire base back to Camp Eagle.
There were a couple of things that made me come unglued around his ears, then
do the same with the Battalion XO. (1) I was a primary staff officer and
didn't work for the S-3, (2) the S-3 had LNOs assigned, just for this duty.
(3) Bn S-2 was not a function of moving firebases; although having done
it, I knew that doing it was now a job for the officers assigned to the S-3
section. (4), the disrespect shown me as an officer was grounds enough
not to do anything for the S-3.
He left my office. I went immediately to the XO, now Sam Kaiser (the old
company XO from C/159th). Sam agreed with me. Sam asked if I would
help. Apparently the S-3 was short of personnel. I did agree to do
the LNO job with the understanding that it was done MY way. (1) I would
fly myself out and arrange the movement one day, return home, and (2) return
the next day for the move. The reasoning was the units owned the guns to
be rigged and lifted. They did this job all the time, and were more
proficient than I was at rigging. As LNO, I checked the rigging, and did
not do it. (3) The critical part was the lifting out of the artillery
pieces. That required me as a pilot and officer to arrange and coordinate
the aircraft. And, that I could do.
He agreed and the next afternoon I left for the firebase. I was going to
the woods. This was the second time I would be on the ground in a combat
zone as a basic soldier. This time I would have more than a 38 cal pistol
and 50 rounds of ammunition.
I made a trip over to the HHC armor. I checked out an M-16, 20 magazines,
and two bandoleers of ammo. (Bandoleers are ammo, packed by the factory,
boxed, placed in cloth pouches on a long string. There are about 200
rounds to a single bandoleer). I loaded the 20 magazines, then taped them
together in pairs, with the bullets facing outward. It is an old infantry
trick. When you empty the first magazine of 20 rounds, you drop it, turn
it over and reinsert the next magazine in the rifle. This prevents
looking and fumbling for ammunition when you need it most.
With the 20 magazines loaded, I would carry the extra bandoleer over by shoulder
in case more than the 20 magazines would be needed. Hopefully I would
have time to stop and reload.
By the time I finished, I had a 38 cal pistol, an M-16, and almost 500 rounds
of ammunition. I would be in the helicopter; my steel helmet (infantry type)
would be in the back seat with the rifle and ammo. I could change from
the flight helmet once on the ground. I wore a chicken plate (all pilots
did, porcelain chest protector from neck to waist) and had a bullet proof vest
for the ground (oxymoron - bulletproof vest only slowed down shrapnel,
not bullets). By the time all was loaded into the helicopter the back
seats were filled.
I felt at least a little secure thinking I might have to spend the night for
some reason, or that if I went down, I would have some protection. Amazingly, I
forgot water and would have had a heat stroke with no water and the weight of
the weapons I had. I was in country for almost a year, and still a
rookie.
I left the next day and went to the firebase. I landed to the side of the
resupply pad, shut down the helicopter, climbed out, went to the passenger door
of the rear compartment for my gear.
I stopped for some reason and looked around. All the guys that
"Lived" on the firebase were running around in boots, trousers and
cap. No shirt and no weapons visible. Now, to be smart and really
look stupid, I needed to put on steel pot, flack vest, 400 rounds of ammo, grab
my M-16 and walk casually across the entire firebase.
Even before "Rambo" I knew this would be stupid, and the laughs would
follow me back to home base. I shut the aircraft door, pulled on my soft
cap from my pants leg pocket, and strolled over to the commander's bunker.
I was "cool" and an old pro. NO one would dare go near my
helicopter, so what was inside was safe from strange prying eyes and would be
my secret.
I did the coordination, returned to the helicopter and went home. I spent
the afternoon at the edge of the camp, shooting the ammunition I had packed in
the 20 magazines. I was going to have to clean the rifle anyway, might as
well have some fun before cleaning it.
The next morning I left for the firebase with only my 38 pistol, just like I
had been flying all year.
We started the move on time and with more than enough aircraft. It was a
big base and most of the Battalion's flyable AC would be used in to complete
the move as quickly as possible. We took the large items, then the small
stuff, tents, etc., were placed on trucks and driven back after the roads were
cleared for convoys, as was the norm.
The move went well, for the most part. About 3/4 of the way through, a
CH-54 Sky Crane was hovering behind me waiting for a heavy load. Under
him, unknown to all of us, the artillery unit had been putting unused bags of
powder in a 55-gallon drum for storage until we finished the move.
Then it was to be burned. Safe enough, under most conditions.
Murphy's law was going to come into play.
In front of me (while the Crane was hovering behind me) the aircraft were
lifting loads one at a time. At some point, down off the side of the hill
there had been a grass fire. It was "out" so we thought.
The winds created by the Chinooks and Cranes lifting loads on top
of the hill apparently kindled a spark and started the grass at the bottom of
the hill to burn again. It was out of the way, so no thought was given.
Behind me, I hear the pilot of the Crane screaming into his radio, "We're
on fire!" I immediately turned and saw the entire cockpit of the
crane engulfed in flames. They were reaching from the ground up to and
covering the entire cockpit of the crane. Flames at this point must have
been 30 - 50 foot high. The Crane was pulling power and climbing for the
sky with all the aircraft would muster.
As the CH-54 climbed for the sky, the flames reduced to a 10 - 20 foot level
over the 55-gallon drum. The aircraft was NOT on fire, just had been
surrounded by fire. As I assured him there was no fire, he turned and
started for the safety of our battalion pad. Although the CH-54 had not
caught fire, it had burned the paint and most of the antennas off.
Apparently a spark from the fire on the next hill had been flamed and fanned
then sent into the air by all the Chinooks and the rotor wash, over to and
landing inside the 55 gallon drum. One spark, 100 yards, and landing in a
2-foot circle filled with explosives. Some luck!
We finished the move without further incident. Sure did think we had lost
some lives for a little while.
Murphy's law, " if anything can go
wrong, it surely will!”
LOH Pilot / IP
As the Battalion LOH IP, I could fly with anyone, anytime. It could
be just as co-pilot, pilot, or Instructor Pilot. It was fun.
We got a new battalion S-3. Major Rudy, was an ex-IP from Wolters.
I took him up in the LOH for his check out. He was my first pilot
for transition, and I was to learn more than I taught.
When going through the MOI (method of instruction) for my IP check ride it was
mandatory that we shoot autorotations. Like every other autorotation I'd
been shown in the army, touchdown meant slide for 20 - 100 foot and hope like
hell you didn't snag something and turn over. My thinking was that if
real, and in a tight area, I would slide into the trees, etc., not good! But it
was all I had ever seen or been shown.
Major Rudy asked why the long ground runs (slides). I told him, no idea,
just the way it had to be. To which he replied, no, not so, and proceeded
to tell me how it was done in OH-23s so there was no ground run. This
really amazed me, as I had flown OH-23s and we had very long ground runs..
but, this was worth a try, it couldn't be any more dangerous than the way
I was doing them. With a couple of tries, we could shoot an
autorotation and land with no forward airspeed. Literally, terminate at a
3-foot hover, and then settle softly to the ground. With a little more
practice, I was to the point I could pick a spot on the ground, cut the engine,
stop 3 foot over the spot and then settle down on it.
With more practice, this could be done, with the touchdown spot behind me,
beside me, under me, from 500 foot above ground to any height you wanted to
start from.
When I found that they could be done safety and without the sliding, it was a
test then to see how proficient and good we could become. Along with the
professional "look" of the autorotation to new students, it brought a
sense of security and confidence in that the aircraft CAN be landed safely
without an engine. Ironically, this was the purpose of teaching the autorotation
in the first place.
The next pilot to be checked out was the new battalion commander. Anyway,
on our first run with him as my student, it was a hot muggy day. The AC was
performing as it should for a hot muggy day. The IP wasn't!
The first autorotation was to be a demonstration. Show him how it would
autrotate, put him at ease, and then teach him to fly the aircraft. Piece
of cake..... I started for the field, cut the engine, began talking him
through the maneuver. As I decelerated at 50 - 75 foot, oops 100 or more,
the heat of the day caused the AC to continue straight to the ground. I
leveled the skids, and hit with such a force that the aircraft bounced back
into the air for 10 -15 feet, tried to level, then came down right front skid
toe first. We settled on the ground, skids level, nothing broke and a
look of terror on his face.
In order to prevent this from being my second and also my last student, I
picked the aircraft up, popped the collective a couple of times to shake the
aircraft to see if anything would fall off, then took off around the landing
area for another try. Acting like that was not out of the normal and the
aircraft would take it.
Apparently the bluff worked. I assume he thought that I would show him
what NOT to do, then do the maneuver the right way.
I did the next one properly and touched down like a pillow. He
never said a word. Guess the second one impressed him more than the
first.
All in all I qualified about 12 pilots into the loach during the last 6 months
we had the bird assigned to us.
The area we used for the training was called the "Play Pen"; it was a
sand area with a hedge around it. Don't know why the hedge. The
site was about 1/2 mile from LZ Sally, a fire support base, north of Phu Bai.
All over the area called the Playpen were holes made by enemy mortar
shells. Not big, but still holes in the ground.
All the maneuvers for the helicopter had to be shot or terminated between the
holes in the ground. All that is, except autorotations. We found
that none of the holes were wider than the distance between the skids on the
LOH.
My second check ride with the Division SIP occurred 6 months after he signed me
off. This was normal. Come back every six months for another
checkout, make sure you are safe, and that you are teaching maneuvers the
proper way. This was the same guy that
had let me do the original touchdowns and slide 50 -100 foot before stopping on
each one.
At 6 months he called and sets me up for a check ride. We went up, did
all the basic maneuvers required, and then went over to do the
autorotations. I did the required
straight in from 500 foot, 180 turn from downwind. Then we started to
play. First we used the smoke grenades to throw out and mark a spot to
land, chop the throttle, and land on the smoke grenade. When out of smoke, we
started picking spots, then chopping the throttle, then picking spots for the
other pilot, and chopping the throttle, then letting the pilot try to land on
the spot picked. For 4 hours we played this game. Out of fuel, we picked up
another load of fuel, and went back for 2 more hours. It was the longest
check ride I have ever had, and the most fun.
We finally got to the point that the touch down spots we were picking were the
mortar holes in the dirt. The object was, land with the hole between the
skids of the aircraft, and the aircraft was not supposed to move forward.
A slip would cause the aircraft to fall in the hole with one skid, and
probably tip over or at least make the rotors strike the ground, tearing up the
aircraft. Dangerous, looking back on it. At the time, a test of abilities
of flying, skill, not fears!