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“Got me,” Tim laughed.
Climbing into the aircraft, everyone got situated as Tim cranked the bird. When all was ready, Bob reached for the controls.
“I’ll take us to the first location first time, then you take the second turn. I have the aircraft,” Bob announced.
“You have the aircraft,” responded Tim and looked over to make sure Bob had the aircraft.
“Coming up,” Bob announced.
“Clear left,” Jonesy said.
“Clear right,” Dorsey echoed. And with that, Bob pulled the collective up, moved the cyclic forward and was airborne to the first unit.
“You give me directions to get to Alpha and also tune in Gunner Two-Three on FM 2. Once we have contact with him, we’ll meet him on UHF. Request his frequency so we can talk to him and his team. Put Alpha on FM 1, and I’ll contact them.”
“Roger,” Tim responded, adjusting radios. “Gunner Two-Three, this is Chicken-man One-Eight on FM.”
After a short pause, “Chicken-man One-Eight, come up two four three point five Uniform Hotel Foxtrot,” Gunner Two-Three instructed.
“Roger, two four three point five.” With that, Tim began tuning the UHF radio and indicated when it was ready to communicate.
Bob keyed his mike switch located on the cyclic. “Gunner Two-Three, Chicken-man One-Eight, over.”
“Good morning, Chicken-man. What you doing this morning?” Gunner Two-Three asked.
“Gunner Two-Three, we are working log resupply today in
the same area you’re operating in and just wanted to check in with you so we don’t overrun your little bird. And so we could hear a friendly voice out here today. Over.”
“Chicken-man One-Eight, glad to have the company. Are you working for the same folks as us?”
“That’s affirmative. We are heading to the Alpha’s location for a backhaul and then to Bravo’s location. Where are you? Over.”
“We are reconning about two klicks north of the Alpha’s location. We’re two Cobras and two little birds. Over.”
“A lot of birds for a recon, is it not? Over.”
“The way things have been going, we’re beefing up the pink teams. Over.”
Tim looked at Bob and keyed the intercom with his foot switch. “What the hell is a pink team?”
“Pink team is normally one Cobra and two little birds. They’re beefing them up if they’re sending two Cobras out. The little birds fly in circles around each other, covering each other, and the Cobra loiters at altitude to cover them. I suspect with all the antiaircraft fire we’ve seen, the Cobras are staying low, making it more difficult for them to cover the little birds. How far are we from Alpha’s location?” Bob asked as he took a peek at the map in Tim’s lap.
“About three klicks out. Do you want me to give them a call?”
“Yeah, and let him know—” Bob is interrupted.
“Mayday, mayday, going in—”
“What the—? Who was that?” Bob asked, looking at his copilot.
“Chicken-man One-Eight, Gunner Two-Three. Over.” Gunner sounded loud and anxious.
“Gunner Two-Three, go ahead,” Bob said, having switched to the UHF frequency on his intercom box.
“Chicken-man, I have a little bird down and taking fire. Can you get up here and pick him up?”
“Gunner Two-Three, we’re on our way. I’m two klicks south of Alpha’s location and heading in your direction. Can you mark the location?”
