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“Morning, Mr. Cory.” Looking up, he saw me. “Wow, what’s this? Lieutenant Cory now?”
“Yes, sir, I’ve come over to the RLO side as of last night.”
“Well, congratulations. What branch?”
“Infantry, sir.”
“Oh shit, you’re going to be a grunt. Different world. I’ll see if I can get you assigned here.”
“Sir, I still have to go to Benning School for Boys, and that won’t be until I rotate back.”
“Too bad. I could use you here as S-3 air. Okay, here’s what we got today. Backhauling a ton of crap. We have a medical supply bunker that’s full of new medical instruments. I mean new in the packing crates from Europe. I have a bunker packed with new Chinese Communist SKS rifles still wrapped in grease and paper. I have a couple of bunkers of rice. I need to resupply three rifle companies. That should keep you busy for today. Might toss in a C&C flight as well,” he added.
“Sounds like we’re not going to get bored today. If your guys are ready, we’ll head out for the first load.”
“Alpha is standing by with a load of rice for you. I’ll call them and let them know you’re coming.”
We headed back to the aircraft, which was already loaded with thirty water cans to take to Alpha. Lovelace had supervised the loading, so the aircraft was ready to go. As Rick was going through the start-up procedures, I was tuning the radio to Alpha Company’s frequency on the FM radio.
“I have the aircraft.” I took the controls from Rick.
“You have the aircraft,” he responded.
The crew cleared us, and I pulled in forty pounds of torque. The bird responded beautifully, and I had to decrease some torque to keep us from leaping into the air. Clearing the firebase, we headed in the general direction of the Alpha Company LZ. Flying out, I called Alpha Company.
“Sidewinder Six, this is Chicken-man One-Niner, the wonderful white-winged wicked weekend warrior. Over,” I said, taking a line from the radio show.
“Chicken-man One-Niner, good morning, Sidewinder Six India, over.”
“Sidewinder, good morning. The wonderful white-winged wicked weekend warrior is here to serve you this fine day,” I joked with him.
“Chicken-man One-Niner, smoke is out.” I could hear him and someone else laughing in the background.
“Roger, I have Goofy Grape.”
“Chicken-man One-Niner, that is affirmative.”
A moment later, as I was descending and setting up my approach to the smoke, Lovelace chimed in.
“Ah, sir, I have purple smoke behind us at eight o’clock.” I was looking at two o’clock. Something was wrong, and I increased power to get altitude.
“Sidewinder Six, Chicken-man One-Niner, I’m a bit confused. Can you pop another smoke for me? Give me a Mellow Yellow.” There was a long pause.
“Roger, Chicken-man One-Niner, I understand you want a yellow smoke. Wait one.” Since our last sighting of the smoke, we had executed a 180-degree turn and were facing the second purple smoke location. Now we were seeing yellow smoke mingling with the second plume of purple smoke.
“Sidewinder Six, Chicken-man One-Niner, I have your yellow smoke.”
“Negative, Chicken-man! I did not, repeat, did not pop yellow smoke.”
“Roger, Sidewinder Six! Wait one.” And I switched to FM number 2.
“Song Be Arty, fire mission, troops in the open, coordinates…”
Shortly afterwards, I heard, “Chicken-man One-Niner, shot out.”
Turning to Rick, I said, “Take over adjusting the artillery, I’ll fly.” And he did, hitting the target with one adjustment.
“Nice shooting, Rick,” I complimented him. I received his usual stoic reaction.
