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It was a trick of the NVA to monitor the radio frequency that the grunts were using to communicate with the aircraft and if possible lure an aircraft to the wrong location by popping the color of smoke identified by the aircraft, only for it to be greeted by antiaircraft fire. Aircraft never called for a particular color of smoke but always identified the smoke that the grunts had chosen. We returned to Sidewinder’s location and began an approach to his PZ.

“Chicken-man One-Niner, break off. Break off, we are in contact. RPGs!” The aircraft nosed over and banked hard left to terminate the approach and gain speed and altitude.

“Sir, I can see where it’s coming from. They’re in the treetops,” Peters said.

“Sidewinder Six, you have snipers in the treetops with RPGs.”

“Roger,” came his response over the sound of heavy automatic weapons fire and explosions. With each explosion, we could see a puff of black smoke as the RPG was launched, indicating the shooters’ positions.

“Sidewinder Six, Chicken-man here. I can see their positions. Do you want me to make a gun run and distract them from you?”

“Chicken-man One-Niner, go ahead, but just don’t shoot us.”

“What heading are you facing?”

“Facing due east, over.”

“I’ll make my run north-south. Okay, crew, I want both guns firing straight ahead and swinging straight down unless you see an identified target. Got it?”

“Got it, understood,” the crew replied.

Into a shallow dive we went with both guns firing to the front and down. The RPG fire stopped, and I could see tracers from the grunts’ automatic weapons passing under me. Hope they don’t shoot us, I was thinking when Peters broke my train of thought.

“Shit, RPG! Sir, they’re shooting those things at us.” His comment was confirmed almost immediately by Sidewinder Six as an RPG streaked behind the aircraft.

“Chicken-man One-Niner, you almost took an RPG in the ass. Clear the area. We have arty coming in soon.”

“Roger. Chicken-man is clear of the area and standing by. Rick, you have it.”

“I have the aircraft,” Rick said as we pulled up and moved out of the way of incoming artillery. During the whole time, Rick just sat there, appearing to be bored with the whole thing.

After a few minutes, during which several artillery rounds landed in the vicinity of the RPG fire, we heard, “Chickenman One-Niner, Sidewinder Six, over.”

“Sidewinder Six, Chicken-man, go.”

“Chicken-man One-Niner, PZ is secure. Can you take out our wounded?”

“Sidewinder Six, that’s affirmative. How many?” I asked as Rick set up our approach.

“Chicken-man, we have seven. Medivac is coming, but if you take them to LZ Snuffy, it’ll be quicker for them.”

“Roger. We are one minute out. Pop smoke.”

Almost immediately, smoke was blowing across the PZ. Rick brought the aircraft in fast and stopped on a dime, troops climbing aboard right away. None had on their load-bearing equipment or rucksacks. Most were walking wounded, but one was missing a foot and had a tourniquet around his leg. Most looked to have shrapnel wounds from RPGs.

As the last was loaded, I gave Rick a thumbs-up. “Let’s go.”

As we approached the log pad, medics were standing by with a stretcher for our soldier with the missing foot. As much pain as he was in, he was high-fiving guys because he knew he was going ho

me. I could see the morphine needle sticking through his shirt collar and a bloody red “M” on his forehead indicating he was on morphine. The others would be back in the field in a couple of weeks from the looks of things. As we were loading some ammo to take back, I saw a medivac chopper approaching. For the next five hours, we were flying steady, hauling in supplies and backhauling all manner of materiel. Finally we got a chance to shut down and eat some C-rations. Lovelace grabbed a five-gallon can of water, and we all helped wash the blood out of the aircraft. I saw the S-3 approaching, and he was not smiling.

“Hey, Dan, I need you to get out to Bravo for a backhaul to Song Be.”

“Okay, what we got?” I asked.

“We just lost two to another RPG attack. The bodies need to go back there. Medivac won’t take them.”

“Yeah, I know,” I mumbled. “They take the living but… okay, let the unit know we are on our way. Mount up, guys, we have a pickup.”

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