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“That new warrant is flying with you, Mr. Triplett.”
“Have you woken him yet?”
“Yes, sir. He said he would see you in the mess hall or Flight Ops.” The clerk moved on to the next pilot that needed to face the day.
Bob continued to get dressed but didn’t feel like eating breakfast. Coffee to go would be sufficient. His stomach was a bit upset, not from anything he had eaten the night before but from stress. Bob had been an aircraft commander all of one week and things had gone well, except the number of times he had b
een shot at in the command position. Being shot at occasionally went with the job, but being shot at every day wasn’t in the job description. In fact, everyone was getting shot at a lot more, and more missions were being flown over the border. Since the First Cav had pulled all its maneuver units out of the field, NVA activity had picked up, so the Third ARVN was getting in contact a lot more, resulting in the aircraft being hit more frequently.
Stopping by Operations, Bob connected with Mr. Triplett. Tim Triplett always had a positive attitude, it appeared. No gray clouds over his head. Originally from Newburgh, Indiana, Tim had attended some college and served as a bouncer in a bar. His dad have been a P-38 pilot in World War II and now owned a roofing company, where Tim worked part-time. Tim also had worked for a company that dug tunnels—big tunnels. All that backbreaking work convinced Tim that he was going to get a position that allowed him to sit and do his job, and flying a helicopter provided that position.
“Good morning, Tripp,” Bob said, coming through the door and using Tim’s nickname.
“Morning, Bob. Fine day to be in the sky,” Tim said. Bob wasn’t feeling it, however.
“Yeah, right,” Bob responded and then turned to the Operations NCO. “Ops, what you got for us?”
“Log mission for the ARVNs. It’s all on the mission sheet,” the Operations NCO said as he handed the mission sheet to Bob.
Taking the sheet, Bob quickly scanned it. “Okay, I’ll give you a call on takeoff. Let’s go, Tripp.” And out the door Bob headed with Tim in tow.
Arriving at the aircraft, Bob found that the crew, Jonesy and Dorsey, had mounted the guns and were ready to go. Jonesy and Dorsey were Mr. Fairweather’s crew, but since Mr. Fairweather had rotated back to the States, Bob had inherited his aircraft and his crew. After reading through the preflight checklist and start-up procedures, Bob called the tower for clearance to depart while Tim maneuvered the aircraft out of the revetment and took off once clearance was granted. As they were climbing out, Bob gave the mission brief to the crew.
“Heads up. We’re flying log today for one of the ARVN battalions up at Loc Ninh. That means we’re going to be over in Cambodia, so be on your toes. Get the aircraft loaded and unloaded fast. If you have to, motivate the ARVNs to get things done. I don’t want to be sitting in some hover hole waiting on them to get the stuff to the aircraft. ‘In and out’ is the words for today. Understood?”
A joint response of “Yes, sir” came from the crew.
All the way to Loc Ninh, Tim was his usual Chatty Cathy self. Bob would almost have liked to tell him to shut up, but even though he was the aircraft commander, a certain amount of military decorum must be observed. I swear this guy could talk the ears off a deaf mute, Bob was thinking. Tim wanted to engage in light conversation, and Bob just wanted some peace and quiet to think. Since Bob wasn’t responsive, Tim struck up a conversation with the crew, which was fine by Bob.
Contacting the American advisor for the unit they were supporting, Bob was told to land at Loc Ninh at the ARVN compound and come in for the morning brief. As Tim hadn’t been to this location previously, Bob took the controls and brought the aircraft into the established log pad, which was already stacked with supplies to go out to the units operating in the field. Among those items were pigs and chickens. Jonesy swore under his breath because he knew they were going to be washing the aircraft when they got in tonight. Pig and chicken shit would stick to everything once dried.
Inside the TOC, Bob met the ARVN advisor. “You must be Chicken-man,” the infantry captain advisor said, coming to meet Bob.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Zuccardi, and this is Mr. Triplett, my copilot.” Bob wanted to establish who was in charge of the aircraft.
“Glad to have you guys. Got a busy day for you,” the advisor added as he directed them to the map board. “We have three companies in the field at these locations and all three need a backhaul this morning and resupply this afternoon. Here are their call signs, frequencies and coordinates.” He handed Tim a sheet of paper. Bob wondered if he gave it to Tim because he was the copilot or because he thought Tim was in charge.
Turning to Tim, Bob said, “You want to plot those coordinates on our maps but not the frequencies. We keep them separate. Also, once you have them plotted, just bring the frequencies and call signs with us and leave the coordinates on that page here. Once we’re in the aircraft, we’ll write the frequencies on my knee board and call signs on yours to keep them separated.” If the advisor didn’t know before, he knew now who was in charge of this duo.
Taking up the briefing again, the advisor said, “We have had activities in all three locations with small elements of NVA forces attempting to consolidate. There’s been some antiaircraft fire in this vicinity in the past couple of days, so you want to give it a wide berth if possible. I have a scout team from First of the Ninth coming out this morning to recon this area around our Alpha Company.”
“Do you have a call sign and frequency for them? I’d like to have that in case I need to coordinate our flight activities. Don’t want to be busting along at treetop level and run over the low bird,” Bob said.
“Yeah, I have that right here.” Picking up a clipboard, the advisor scanned the top page and flipped to the second. “Here it is. Gunner Two-Three is the flight leader and his frequency is thirty-eight point four five Fox Mike.”
“Okay, I’ll give him a call and coordinate with him. If your units are ready, we’ll get out and start backhauling starting with Alpha if that’s okay,” Bob explained.
“Sure, I’ll give them a call and let them know you’re inbound. There’s a US advisor, NCO, with each unit that you will be talking to.”
“Good, I’ll give you a call when we take off,” Bob said as he gathered his map and departed the TOC with Tim following.
As they walked back to the aircraft, Tim asked, “Hey, Bob, what’s wrong? You just don’t seem yourself today. Did I do something to piss you off?”
“No, and I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling good today. Nothing physical, just not with it, that’s all,” Bob responded. “I’ll feel better when we get these missions done. I’m not crazy about flying in Cambodia, where all these guys are operating at.”
“I can understand, but it’s going to be an okay day. Aircraft is operating good, the weather is clear and even a bit cool this morning. What could be better?”
“A cold beer on the beach with a girl back in the States. That could be better,” Bob answered with a grin.
