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“Yes, sir.”
“We have all we need for tonight, so we’ll be getting off when we get back in. The brigade S-2 here will have a few more missions for you tonight. Do not refly this route that we just flew or go anywhere in that area. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and one more item. Don’t discuss thi
s mission with anyone,” he added.
“Yes, sir.”
I said no more but wondered what the hell was going on. Once we landed, my searchlight operator rejoined us as we were refueling. The lieutenant colonel left, and the brigade S-2 followed him like a puppy dog after he told me where he wanted us to go—Bu Dop. Shutting down, I pulled the other ACs and crews together as everyone had questions.
“Dan, what’d the colonel tell you?” asked the Cobra commander.
“Nothing, except he doesn’t want us flying anywhere up there. He didn’t say if they saw anything or indicate what he was looking for. The brigade intelligence officer didn’t say jack shit either. And we’re not to discuss this mission with anyone.” We had lots of questions and no answers.
“How far did you get across the border?” the Cobra AC asked.
“Just south of Snuol,” I told him.
His only response was, “Holy shit. You were lucky!”
The rest of the night was uneventful. We thought we would have some good hunting, but the night was a bust. For the next week, we flew the same mission, being directed on different routes each night with the same lieutenant colonel and the same results. We didn’t turn on the searchlight or engage any targets. Boring! Finally I got off Night Hunter assignment and was glad to get back to daytime missions.
But things changed. Captain Kempf, the maintenance officer, had been pretty good about letting pilots get an aircraft and take soldiers to Bien Hoa or even Saigon for the day as the PX at Lai Khe was reducing its contents since the First Infantry Division had left and there were only a handful of units left at Lai Khe. As April progressed, he was becoming more hard-nosed about releasing an aircraft. The division was getting into more contact, and aircraft were returning with damage. The pilots just assumed that he was husbanding the aircraft.
“Mr. Cory, the CO wants to see you in his hooch,” the company clerk stated as I sat writing a letter. It was about 1900 hours on April 31, 1970. Wonder what this is about?
Knocking on his door, I was told to come in. There sat Major Sundstrum along with Captain Wehr, the XO, Captain Beauchamp, the ops officer, and Captain Kempf, the maintenance officer, as well as another flight leader, Mr. Roberts.
Once we were all settled, the major broke out seven cups and poured a shot of scotch in each, passing one to each of us. As he did so, Roberts and I looked at each other with What the hell? looks.
“Gentlemen, I have been in a meeting this afternoon at Quan Loi with all the aviation company commanders from 227th, 228th, 229th and Second of the Twentieth Aerial Rocket Artillery. General Shoemaker headed up the meeting and gave a mission brief on tomorrow’s missions.” Caged eyeballs were moving around the room. What the hell is going to happen?
“Warren, how many aircraft do we have up for tomorrow?” the major asked, holding his drink in his hand. He hadn’t taken a sip yet, nor had anyone else.
“Sir, we have twenty-one aircraft for tomorrow, but two only have ten hours each before they’re due for their one-hundred-hour periodic inspections.”
“Those aircraft fly tomorrow. I told Battalion twenty-one aircraft, and that’s what they expect.
Okay, here’s the deal. We have a major mission tomorrow. We have twenty-one aircraft to put up.” I looked at Mr. Roberts and he at me. “Mr. Cory, you will be flying Chalk Two in a heavy right formation. I’ll be flying flight lead. If I go down, you take the flight in. Mr. Roberts, you are Chalk Three. If Cory goes down, you take the flight in. Understood?”
Mr. Roberts and I looked at each other with our mouths open and our eyes the size of saucers. What in the world is this about?
“Yes, sir. Where we going?” Mr. Roberts asked.
“You’ll get that info in the morning. We launch at zero seven thirty and will join up with Bravo and Charlie companies at the runway at Chon Thanh, the SF camp.”
Again I looked at the other AC. We’d never had a mission with so many aircraft since I’d been in the unit. Those big lifts had been common back in the mid-sixties, when they’d had larger LZs to operate in, but not since the division had moved to Three Corps.
“I want you two to get the other aircraft commanders and preflight all the aircraft now. Any problems should be reported to maintenance immediately. Any questions?”
“No, sir,” we both responded.
“Good, gentlemen. To tomorrow.” And he raised his glass. We all chugged our drinks and left at a fast pace to roust other pilots. Within fifteen minutes, the flight line was a beehive of activity as someone had told the crew chiefs to get out and look their aircraft over and the door gunners to double-check the machine guns. It was a busy night.
Chapter 38
