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Bob pointed out on the map where we had taken the fire, stating that we thought it was a couple of guys as it was light fire and only from AK-47s. Bob also told him that the Cobras had rolled in hot on the location.
“I’ll ge
t a request in to get a scout team from First of the Ninth to go up and check it out,” the captain mumbled thoughtfully as he reached for a radio. The First of the Ninth was the air cavalry squadron for the First Cav Division. Their aircraft consisted of mostly OH-6 scout helicopters and Cobra gunships. They also had one platoon of UH-1H aircraft and grunts, referred to as the Blues Platoon, in each of their cavalry troops. Each troop had a platoon of OH-6s, a platoon of Cobras and the Blues Platoon. On a scout mission, two OH-6s would fly at treetop level in circles, covering each other, with a Cobra watching over them. Frequently, one OH-6 would come to a hover to blow the vegetation back so they could see the ground. OH-6 crews were shot down on a frequent basis. Seldom did an OH-6 survive to receive its first three-hundred-hour inspection, although since the VC were less active after TET of ’68, their survival rate had improved for a short period of time.
After the captain completed his mission request for a scout team, he said our next mission would be at 1330 hours and we should get some chow at the brigade headquarters mess hall. He would see us back at 1245 hours and would send the jeep to get our crew. This captain was okay in my book.
When we returned to the TOC at 1245 hours, the captain told us there had been a change in mission. “The old man has canceled the psyops mission. He, along with the S-2, the S-3 and the brigade engineer captain, want to have a look at where you took fire this morning. Between the readings from the sniffer and you taking fire, which is a confirmation that someone is out there, the old man’s looking at moving a firebase into that area to interdict the river. Takeoff will be thirteen thirty.”
Bob said that was fine and we would be at the aircraft waiting for them. When we got to the aircraft, Sergeant Scovel was hanging under the tail boom in a hammock and Mackintyre was lying in the cabin, trying to go to sleep.
Time waits for no man, but pilots do wait for colonels. Thirty minutes late to us, but not to the colonel, he arrived with his staff in tow. This guy looked like a warrior. Tall, well built with a square jaw, he introduced himself to me and Bob. New to the division and having just taken command, he was out to make a name for himself but had a reputation already of taking care of his people and doing the right thing by them.
Colonel Irons spread out his map and briefed Bob on what he wanted to do as I climbed into my seat. Basically, he wanted to find a clearing that was close to where we had taken fire, and along the river so he might move a battalion in quickly and put a firebase in place to interdict the river and cover the area from Quan Loi to the river, as this was an area that some rockets had been coming out of and hitting the base. The 130 mm Katyusha rocket was a Soviet rocket used in World War II and Korea which the enemy had acquired and used mostly to harass us, as they were not very accurate.
As everyone settled in, I started the aircraft. Bob got our clearance and a thumbs-up from the colonel and told me to take us out.
“Head for the river at three thousand and ninety knots. I want to stay well above any possible .51-cal fire,” Bob said. “An old trick of Charlie’s is to fire at an aircraft with AK-47s, and when a flight returns or the scout aircraft shows up, they open up with three .51-cals in a triangle to trap you. If you’re low and that happens, you’re going to have a miserable day.”
The colonel asked what altitude we were going to hold and Bob explained the situation to him. No argument from the colonel. He told Bob he could see everything he needed from three thousand feet. Yeah, I like this guy.
Once over the area, we started circling, making the circle ever so slightly wider with each turn. The staff in the back were huddled together, comparing what they were seeing on the ground with what was on their maps. After about thirty minutes and further to the northeast, a clearing was noted. The colonel asked, “Mr. Lucus, how many aircraft do you think we could put in that clearing at a time?” Wow—a colonel asking us warrant officers for our opinion? Well, asking Bob, but…I really liked this guy now.
After a minute or so, Bob came back. “Sir, I think we could get twelve aircraft in there. That tree in the middle is going to cause a problem, but a flight in staggered formation could fit on both sides. The problem for you is going to be the separation for the ground forces once we unload as they’ll be on opposite sides of the LZ. Approach would have to be along the northeast-southwest axis. Also, that’s the largest clearing around, so Charlie may have it targeted as well. Not a lot of options in this area for an LZ.”
“My sentiments exactly, but it’s going to have to do. Okay, take us home.” And with that, the colonel went into a huddle with his staff and we turned back to Quan Loi. The S-3 air was waiting at the pad with the colonel’s jeep. Once the colonel was loaded up and out of there, the captain jumped on the skid to talk to Bob.
“That’s it for today. You’re released to go home. Thanks for your help today. Be safe,” he said, shaking Bob’s hand.
Bob turned to me and directed me to move us to refuel and then head home to buy beer for the crew. As we were flying back, Bob asked, “What are your plans after this?”
“What, after Vietnam?”
“Yeah, you going to stay in or what?”
“I intend to go back to college and get a job flying helicopters and maybe attend law school. Not really sure what I want to do at this point. Just flying here right now is as far ahead as I’m thinking. What about you?” I asked.
“I don’t know. My wife and I talked about it a bit when I was on R&R and we’re just going to play it by ear for now. With a kid on the way, that sort of changes my options.”
“That’s one thing I don’t have to worry about right now, and no plans either for the immediate or foreseeable future. No one back home waiting for me, so I’m a bit free to do as I want.”
“Hey, Mr. Cory, I have two sisters back home,” Sergeant Scovel chimed in.
Mackintyre, imitating a New Jersey shore accent, said, “Mr. Cory, I have seen his sisters. Forget about it.” With that, Bob and I had to listen to a running exchange all the way back to Lai Khe about the appealing qualities or lack thereof of Sergeant Scovel’s sisters.
Chapter 13
Hover Holes
WO1 Mike Roberts drew the lucky straw for this day and met me at his aircraft after he got a mission brief. We were going back up to Quan Loi to fly resupply for one of the infantry battalions, and any other missions they had for us. Start-up and departure were typical and routine for me at this point. Mike got our clearances and let me handle the aircraft. We went into Quan Loi just long enough to refuel the aircraft and fly out to the firebase that had been inserted two days before in the location that Mr. Lucus and I had reconned with the brigade commander.
Since that recon, the Fifth of the Seventh Cavalry had been inserted and was finding trails, cache sites and some activity. It was reported that there were .51-cal antiaircraft guns in the area. So it was NVA forces and not the VC. That changed things a bit. The NVA knew how to shoot at helicopters.
Arriving at the firebase, we were directed to the log pad and shut down to get a brief from the battalion S-3 air. When we entered the TOC, the battalion commander was waiting for us.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Ready for some work?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Mr. Roberts answered. “Beats sitting on our asses all day.”
