Medal of Honor

by Matt Jackson

  “As the fighting retreat progressed, helicopter losses increased due to the requirement for them to provide so much of the resupply and evacuation support. When it was evident to the NVA that the ARVNs were retreating, they closed in for the kill, maintaining close contact, negating the ARVN and US advantage of close air and artillery support. Undermanned firebases initially established in the beginning of the operation were being overturned on a frequent basis. All told, one hundred and sixty-eight helicopters were destroyed, with another six hundred and eighteen damaged. US helicopters flew over one hundred and sixty thousand sorties. Nineteen pilots were killed, with one hundred and eight wounded. Eleven more are still carried as missing in action.” Murmurs could be heard throughout the audience.37

  Another acetate sheet was placed over the map and Major Brayboy continued his presentation, pointing to the blue graphics that indicated the friendly forces’ plan. “Our first mission was on February 8. At the same time, the 101st Aviation units were conducting missions as well to insert two firebases north of Highway 9, while we conducted two missions to insert two firebases south of Highway 9. On that morning, First ARVN Mech Brigade, under the command of First ARVN Airborne, launched a ground assault along Highway 9 along with an Air Cav troop screening to the front. Our first lift consisted of forty aircraft making two turns for a total of eighty sorties, with twenty of my aircraft and twenty from the 48th Assault Helicopter Company as well as all our Charlie model gunships. The 48th was flight lead for the day. I was chalk 21.”

  In the audience, heads were turning and murmured comments could be heard.

  “Flight time for PZ to the one-ship LZ was about ten minutes with no artillery prep.”

  Comments from the audience, such as “You’re nuts,” and “You’ve got to be kidding!” became much louder with that information.

  “I know that sounds crazy, but we had friendly forces on the LZ, so we were confident that we would meet little resistance. As you can imagine, some aircraft were just leaving the PZ with their first load when aircraft were returning to get their second load. We took no fire on this insertion as the intel people had told us to expect none. The pickup zone was the same for both lifts that day. We also received a flight of Cobras for the second lift. The second LZ was seven kilometers from the first, and intel indicated it would also be fairly quiet. It was also a one-ship LZ. A B-52 strike went in early that morning.” Moving back to the map, Major Brayboy pointed at the flight route.

  “As we approached the LZ, we initially received some small-arms fire. As we got closer we came under anti-aircraft fire from 12.7 weapons. I was shot down in the LZ, as was another aircraft. Every aircraft in that lift took hits.” Again murmers rose from the audience and not too quietly. “Where the hell were the guns?” “Who was directing this fiasco?” and “What about the artillery?”comments were repeated several times.

  Continuing his presentation, Major Brayboy said, “We came in at altitude and made normal approaches with forty-five-second separation. Gunships expended on the first lift, so there was a scramble to get additional gun cover on the second turn. A C&C aircraft from the Cav was at four thousand feet when he took hits in his fuel cell and caught fire. The last we saw, he was in a slow roll, going in upside down.”

  The faces of those in the audience reflected their shock. No one had experienced fighting of this intensity when in III Corps, or Cambodia. At this point, Major Brayboy had everyone’s attention. As he continued to explain the events he had witnessed for those forty-five days, it became obvious to everyone that they were entering into a new and much more deadly kind of fight that Army Aviation had not been exposed to before.

  Wrapping up his presentation after an hour, Major Brayboy asked rhetorically, “So, gentlemen, what were some of the lessons we learned in my opinion? First, contour flight is the only way to fly in formations or single-ship. Flying at altitude will only get you killed as you cannot fly high enough to avoid radar-guided weapons, anti-aircraft missiles or high-explosive anti-aircraft guns. Second, the Charlie model gunship is too antiquated for this environment. It’s too slow and cannot carry a sufficient payload for these operations at these elevations. Only the Cobras had the payload and fuel to provide adequate cover. Third, the OH-58 LOH is inadequate for this environment as it doesn’t have the maneuverability or power. Fourth, the tactic of a little bird, low and slow, is a surefire way to get shot down. The Cobras couldn’t fly high to cover the LOH due to the anti-aircraft fire, so the LOH became very vulnerable. Fifth, throwing together units that have never worked together before or never worked in assault helicopter operations is an excellent way of introducing confusion. The 223rd Aviation Battalion attempted to do it right, but a lot was missing that should have been SOP, especially as they were attempting to support two major operations going in two separate directions. Sixth, the CH-47 lacks the power needed to haul the one-five-five howitzer at these elevations and conditions. We had to rely on the Marine Corps aircraft for heavy lift missions. Seventh, we need a way for attack aircraft to take out tanks. We had a few Cobras with 20-millimeter guns that could take out the PT76s that we encountered, but nothing to take out the T-55 tanks. We need something that can do that. Lastly, the Huey is a great aircraft but vulnerable in these conditions. We need an aircraft that can fly faster, with redundant systems. That concludes my briefing. What are your questions?” Major Brayboy asked as he picked up another cup of coffee that was handed to him.

  “Sir, Mr. Zuccardi. What do you see for the future of Army Aviation under these conditions?” Bob asked.

  “This is the battlefield of the future in my opinion. This was high-intensity. Eleven pilots are missing, we had nineteen pilots killed and we had one hundred and eight wounded, as well as over six hundred aircraft with battle damage, all in a forty-five-day period. And those numbers do not include crew members lost, killed or wounded. We need better aircraft to withstand this intensity. We need better tactics for this intensity. We need better training for this intensity. Without those three things, we’ll be like B-17 crews in World War Two—expendable.”38

  Chapter 37

  Aircraft Down

  “Major Adams, we have an aircraft down,” Captain Curran said as he walked into Major Adams’s office. This was becoming a common statement as April and May continued to see Chicken-man aircraft taking some serious damage. Shooting from the ridge-lines at low-flying aircraft made it easy for the NVA to take down an aircraft as they approached landing zones in either combat assaults or single-ship resupply missions. Most missions were one- and two-ship resupply runs, which didn’t warrant a gunship escort, so those missions were mostly on their own for support. Maintenance was having a difficult time keeping up the availability due to the battle damage that was being experienced. Crews weren’t taking a lot of battle damage physically, but mentally they were wearing down. Doc Christeson was seeing more cases of sleep deprivation not from long flying hours but from the inability of individuals to sleep. In order to meet the mission demands, three aircraft with crews were attached to the company from another unit down on the coast of Vietnam.

  Lieutenant Alston Gore, who had been briefing the major on some personnel issues, asked, “Who is it? Are they okay?”

  “Sir, it’s one of the attached aircraft,” Captain Curran said, turning to Lieutenant Gore. “And to answer your question, it appears only one crew member made it, and he’s hurt. I can’t say for certain until the other two aircraft get in and we’re absolutely sure who went down.”

  “Where’s the aircraft?” Major Adams asked calmly but with disappointment in his voice.

  “The aircraft is on Firebase Five. They retrieved the crew chief and have him there, but he’s hurt pretty bad. They’ll try to get the other three bodies out with him.”

  “Have you reported this to Battalion yet?” the major asked, looking at Curran.

  “No, sir, I thought it best to tell you first, then call them.”

  “Okay, you notify Battalion O
ps. I’ll call Colonel Shelton. Al, you contact casualty assistance as soon as we have some names. Is there a plan to get the injured crew member?” the major asked Captain Curran.

  “I don’t know, sir. Let me talk to Battalion and see if we can work something out.”

  “What the hell was he doing up at Five anyway?” Major Adams was starting to blow a gasket. “We’ve told these guys not to go to Five or Six. It’s just too damn dangerous. Hell, it took how many days before someone could get to Six and retrieve Reid? Now we’re going to be dick-dancing trying to get this crew out. Dammit!”

  Major Adams was not one to use profanity. Dammit was about his limit, and then only under duress. When he did use it, you knew he was upset. Both Lieutenant Gore and Captain Curran thought now would be a good time to get out of the blast area that they were sure was to follow. They both excused themselves to “take care of the issues” and departed.

  Major Adams was normally a very calm and patient leader, but his stress level was increasing because of Reid’s death, combined with the number of aircraft coming in each day with battle damage. After they were gone, Major Adams sat and took some deep breaths to calm his nerves. Dammit, it’s just not making sense that we’re still flying and this is a lost cause. Lam Son 719 didn’t crush the NVA but simply emboldened them, and now they’re pushing down Highway 17 and Highway 9, filling the void that the ARVNs left after that debacle. Lam Son 719 was supposed to disrupt their supplies, raise the confidence of the ARVN and prove that the ARVN could defend their country. What’s happened is just the opposite. The supplies are flowing down the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the ARVN has his tail between his legs and he can’t defend squat. This is a lost cause, so let’s just get out of here as quick and clean as possible. Although he kept it to himself, like many of the pilots, he was wondering why we were still in this fight when the support of the American people was in rapid decline.

  Picking up his phone, he called the battalion commander. “This is Major Adams. Let me speak to the colonel.”39

  “Adams, what you got?” asked Lieutenant Colonel Shelton when he came on the line. He was a man of few words.

  “Sir, we just lost an aircraft on Firebase Five. It was one of the attached aircraft. Details are sketchy right now, but I do know that one crew member survived the crash, but he’s injured. The pilots and the door gunner did not make it.”

  “Was it a shoot-down?”

  “Sir, at this point I don’t know. Another aircraft was with him from what I understand, and as soon as that crew gets back, I’ll debrief them and pass the details to you.”

  “Is medevac going to attempt to retrieve the injured crew member?” Colonel Shelton asked.

  “Sir, at this point I just don’t know. Let me get some solid answers as well as concrete information and I’ll get back to you.”

  After a pause with a noticeable sigh, Colonel Shelton replied, “Okay. We need to think about getting the rest of the crew out of there. Medevac won’t go in there go retrieve the crew’s bodies, so that will be up to us. I’ll call Group and notify them. The rest of your boys okay?”

  “Yes, sir, they’re all fine, but to be truthful, getting shot at every day is taking a toll on them, I suspect. And Maintenance is getting worn down between required inspections, normal maintenance and repairing damaged aircraft,” the major indicated.

  “Let me see if I can work out another stand-down for your crews in the next couple of days. The Gladiators had one last week, and it did them a world of good.”

  “Glad to hear that, sir, and it would be appreciated if my boys could get one. The one we had last month was a blessing for the maintenance folks. Thank you,” Major Adams said.

  Hanging up the phone, the major decided he would head over to Flight Ops and see if any more information had come in on this situation. It was getting late in the day, and there would only be about another hour of daylight flying. Flying at night was a bit safer as antiaircraft gunners couldn’t see you, but the radar-guided guns didn’t need to see you, and that was when they came out.

  Walking into Flight Ops, Major Adams saw Captain Curran on the radio.

  “Roger, Chicken-man Three, out.” Captain Curran handed the handset to the clerk, who was writing in the daily log.

  “What’s the word?” Major Adams asked.

  “Well, sir, it appears they were asked to run a resupply of ammo and C-rations into Firebase Five. Things had been quiet all day so it seemed like a good idea. They got in just fine, but when they started to take off, all hell broke loose. An RPG may have gotten them as they came up to a hover. The crew chief has a bad leg wound. His name is Specialist Littleton. Medevac attempted to get in to retrieve him, but ground fire forced them out. They’re going to make a second attempt later this afternoon or tonight. The pilots and door gunner are dead. I’ve notified Lieutenant Gore of the names so he can get the ball rolling on that end. I also put a call through to their assigned company and spoke with their Ops officer.”

  “Has Battalion said anything about getting the bodies out of there?”

  “No, sir,” Captain Curran replied.

  “Okay. Battalion is going to try to get us a stand-down day in the next week or so. I think we all could use it. What are the missions for tomorrow?”

  “I spoke with Maintenance, and as it stands right now, we can only put eight aircraft up tomorrow, and that’s if no one comes in tonight with damage. I know a couple of aircraft have taken hits today, but I am not aware of the extent of the damage. Maybe with luck, we can get a couple of more up tonight for a total of ten.” Captain Curran didn’t answer the question about missions, as assigned missions normally didn’t come down until very early in the morning once aircraft availability was passed up to Battalion.

  “Damn, for a unit with twenty-one aircraft and borrowing three from some other unit, that still has us at less than fifty percent availability. I need to talk to Maintenance.”

  “Sir, Maintenance is doing the best they can. I know for a fact that every other aviation unit is going through the same thing. The Gladiators and Black Widows are in the same boat. The gooks have a vote in this fight, and there isn’t much we can do about that. Our maintenance issues aren’t caused by sloppy flying. It’s caused by little pieces of metal flying through the side of the aircraft. You are the commander and no longer a maintenance officer.”

  “I know, I know, but still…I don’t like it. Okay, let me know if Battalion comes up with an idea to get those bodies out of Firebase Five.” And with that, the major departed the Operations center.

  Those bodies are really bothering the old man. I know he feels obliged to get them out of there since they’re on loan to us, Captain Curran thought.

  Chapter 38

  Leave No One Behind

  “Captain Cory, wake up, sir. You have a zero-eight-hundred crank,” the Ops clerk said softly, grabbing Cory’s foot and shaking it.

  “Okay, okay, I’m awake,” Cory said as he started to push himself upright. I need some coffee to clear my head. Glad I didn’t drink too much last night. It was initially supposed to be Cory’s promotion party, but since the crew had been lost on Firebase Five, it had quickly turned into a wake of sorts. Time in grade from first lieutenant to captain was one year, and Cory’s year had come around the day before. Normally, Cory would have had to buy a round for everyone at the club, and then everyone would have bought a round for him. Cory wasn’t sure how many he’d drunk, but the mood wasn’t one for excessive partying. Drinking, yes; partying, no. Besides, Major Adams and Captain Curran were missed most of the night, working on a plan to get the downed crew off Firebase Five.

  Pulling on his pants, flippy-flops and a shirt, he moved towards the mess hall and the coffeepot, figuring he would brush his teeth and shave after he got a cup through his system. As he turned from the coffeepot to head back to his hooch, there stood Captain Curran.

  “Morning, Cory. You up for flying this morning?”

  “Yes, sir, after I get
a couple of cups of coffee in my system.”

  Leaning in to whisper in Cory’s ear, the captain said, “Dan, we’re the same rank now. No need to call me sir anymore.”

  “Oh, yeah. Guess I’m not used to being a captain yet.”

  “Takes a day or two to get used to the new title,” Captain Curran said with a smile. “I’m going to swing by Ops and then head out to the aircraft and start the preflight. See you there.”

  “Sir-sir—ah, hell, what’s your first name?” Cory asked with a befuddled look.

  “It’s John,” Captain Curran answered.

  “We flying together today?” Cory asked.

  “Yeah, we are flying Chuck Chuck for the major today. The MACV advisor is going with us. See you at the aircraft,” John said as he turned and headed for the door.

  Cory slowly sipped his coffee as he made his way back to his hooch. Sitting on his bed, he was beginning to feel better as the caffeine started to kick in. Adding a couple of aspirin to the coffee as it went down helped as well. Oh, it’s going to be a long day, he was thinking. Finally he exchanged his flippy-flops for his boots and decided that he could hold and use his toothbrush well enough not to hurt himself. Shaving would have to wait until tonight. Fully dressed and beginning to feel life returning to his body, Cory made his way back to the mess hall for another cup of coffee. Ben Hodges had just entered as Cory was pouring condensed milk into his cup.