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“Roger, Four-One India, I will get back with you. Gambler Six out.” Everyone’s spirits were rising higher knowing that someone now knew where they were and help would be coming shortly. They continued to move, hoping to find a clearing big enough for a chopper to land. There did not appear to be any, however.
A few minutes later, they heard, “Gambler Four-One India, Gambler Six, over.”
“Gambler Six, go ahead, over.”
“Gambler Four-One India, I have two choppers inbound to your location for pickup. Get your personnel on these two birds, over.” What Gambler Six had left unspoken was the fact that no aircraft were available at this point to extract the ARVN soldiers. He was concerned about getting the US advisors and flight crews out of there. Once that was accomplished, he would address the issue of extracting the ARVN soldiers with the ARVN chain of command.
“Roger Six, we’re standing by. Over.”
“Gambler Four-One India, contact Chicken-man One-Eight on Fox Mike four one point five, over.”
“Roger Six, Chicken-man One-Eight on Fox Mike four one point five. QSY at this time.” Sergeant Stokes changed the frequency to contact the aircraft.
“Chicken-man One-Eight, Gambler Four-One India, over,” Sergeant Stokes called and waited.
From the group, he could hear mumbling voices. “Come on, come on, answer him.”
“Gambler Four-One India, Chicken-man One-Eight inbound to your location. Dropping a ladder. Send up the Whiskey India Alpha first. Over.” Fist-pumping, Frank turned and saw that the others had heard the request and were getting Patterson ready. He was in pain but was going to have to make the climb; he’d have some assistance, but this would be mostly on him. Suspecting that they would need ladders, Chicken-man One-Eight and Two-Three had returned to Camp Halloway where maintenance quickly install wire ladders that could be easily dropped from the aircraft. They were made aware of the ground parties location as the Cobra was providing the information. Coming over the trees right above the group, Chicken-man One-Eight came to a hover thirty feet above the trees and dropped the wire ladder out the side of the aircraft. As the ladder hit the ground, Tonjes and Gordon grabbed it in an attempt to steady it and keep it taut for Patterson to climb. Each step was agonizing for Patterson as he started up. Each second at a hover was agonizing for the Chicken-man crew, knowing NVA were in the immediate vicinity. As Patterson made his way slowly up the ladder, hands were reaching down to grab him as soon as he was within reach. Once inside, the next man started up until five were on board.
“Gambler Four-One India, that’s it. I’m out of here, and the next bird will be in right behind me to get the rest of you. Over.”
“Roger, Chicken-man One-Eight.”
“Gambler Four-One India, Chicken-man Two-Three, over.” First Lieutenant Alston Gore said.
“Chicken-man Two-Three, Gambler Four-One India, I have you in sight and am standing by.”
“Roger,” Gore responded as he came to a hover and the wire ladder dropped. As before, as soon as it hit the ground, the first crew member was up the ladder, followed by Sergeant Stokes. Gordon was the last to grab the ladder, making sure everyone was accounted for.
The few ARVNs with the group saw Sergeant Stokes climbing the ladder as well. They had been scared to begin with, and now some were starting to panic. As Gordon grabbed the last rung on the ladder, Alston started pulling pitch and climbed to depart the area. An ARVN soldier grabbed Gordon’s leg and was attempting to climb up his leg to reach the ladder. The aircraft was gaining speed and altitude when the ARVN’s grip gave out. He fell the fifteen feet and watched as the helicopter departed, leaving him behind as so many were.
Chapter 33
Back to Firebase Six
The next morning, Major Adams held a meeting with all the pilots.
“Listen up. I want to take a moment of silence for Reid. He was a good pilot and a fine officer. He will be hard to replace. Let’s bow our heads for a minute,” he said, and they all did so.
After a minute or more, Major Adams said, “Okay, update—Firebase Six has been overrun. The ARVN rifle company made its way, in part, to Firebase Five. They did manage to get some gunship support as they closed in, but I can tell you after talking to the senior advisor that they’re not happy that they got no lift support to get them, especially after we got in and got our crews out. Therefore, for the time being, we aren’t going to fly to Firebase Five either unless it’s cleared by me personally. Bad enough having the NVA shooting at us, I don’t want the ARVN shooting at us too.” He paused.
“Question, sir,” came a voice from the gathered pilots. Before the major could acknowledge the individual, he said, “When are we going to get Reid’s body out of there?”
“We’re not. That will be up to someone else. Right now that place is too hot to even consider going in there. Fast movers are pounding it right now as we speak with five-hundred-pounders and napalm. I’m sure they’re taking great pleasure, Frank, in using your aircraft as an aiming point.”
“Had to give them some kind of target to shoot at, sir. Not a problem, they probably can’t hit it anyway,” Frank responded, eliciting chuckles from the gallery. It appeared, to Major Adams’s approval, that humor and morale were coming back.
“On a more pleasant note, Patterson was medevaced to the hospital last night and is going to be there for a time, maybe back to the States even. Appears the stake went directly into his rectum,” the major explained. Several moans could be heard.
“Rectum? Hell, sir, it nearly killed him,” came a lone voice in the peanut gallery, followed by an outburst of laughter.
“Glad to see your sick sense of humor is returning, people,” Major Adams scolded with a grin on his face. “Okay, we’re rolling into April now and it doesn’t appear that our mission profile is going to change. Anticipate single-ship resupply missions with some six- and twelve-ship formations. I don’t see us flying psyops missions or sniffer up here, nor Night Hawk. I want you all to be careful about the enemy fire. If it’s too hot, you abort the mission. If you sense a setup, you abort the mission. It’s your call, aircraft commanders, and I will back you. I don’t want to lose anyone else, so let’s be smart about what we’re doing. Okay?”
Returning to a serious tone, he continued, “Having said all that, today’s mission is a twelve-ship, two-turn combat assault, moving the ARVNs. The PZ is the airstrip at Dak To, and the LZ just north of Firebase Six.” He paused momentarily and pointed at the map. Multiple groans and mumbled words of profanity could be heard. “Lieutenant Zuccardi will be Yellow One with Mr. Zuccardi as Yellow Two. I’ll be flying Chuck Chuck and will provide navigation guidance and artillery coverage. We will be escorted by eight Cobras. Thirty minutes prior to our insertion, there will be a B-52 strike in the vicinity of the LZ. We’ll have a six-minute artillery prep on the LZ. We probably will not be able to land due to obstacles created by the prep, so the troops will have to jump. Get them out fast. Any questions?”
“Sir, any reason given as to why we’re taking the Ruff Puffs up there?” Lieutenant Gore asked. He had made aircraft commander prior to the unit’s move north. He’d joined Chicken-man in September of 1970 back in Lai Khe. His additional duty was unit administrative officer.
“Besides trying to get Reid’s body, it seems that when the firebase was abandoned, they didn’t remove the breechblocks or spike the howitzers, and they didn’t blow all the ammo. The NVA shelled Dak To last night from those guns. Good enough reason to go back?” the major asked. No one responded. “Crew assignments and aircraft are on the board. We crank in forty-five minutes,” he added, checking his watch. “See you on the flight line.”
