C-130 Hercules
Page 17
Major Robert W. Kirkpatrick the navigator recalled: ‘As we prepared for the drop, we started taking some sporadic ground fire; nothing very intense at this point, but soon I noticed an orange flash on the horizon, about three miles out. In a voice about 2-3 octaves higher than normal I made the announcement on interphone to the crew: ‘We’re taking fire at 1230 - three miles’, about that time the aircraft made a significant jump with the sound of metal to metal contact, ground fire intensity started to increase drastically at the same time. On the right side of the aircraft we had a big hole, about the size of a basketball and on the right wing the engines spewed fuel and the fire, going well past the tail of the aircraft. About the same time I looked out the left cockpit window and noticed an NVA tank on the ground, with the hatch open, pennants on the antennae and an NVA tank commander standing in the hatch with his pith helmet on looking up at us; I waved at him and he returned the wave. I knew we were on track to the drop zone as the tank’s tube was visually parallel to our track, pointing at An Lôc. After we had dropped our cargo things really started to accelerate for us and the ground fire was extremely intense.
‘We were losing oil from an engine. Then we began losing oil pressure. The pilot tried to shut down the engine and an effort was made to climb and accelerate with the idea of blowing the fire out, none of which worked. The intense ground fire we encountered sounded like a shooting gallery at a carnival; it gradually subsided and the situation with the fire and controlling the aircraft brought up the subject of us bailing out. I knew we were by then over an area where there was a significant concentration of NVA, so my immediate verbal response to the bail-out idea was ‘let’s hold on as long as possible due to the NVA in the area’ (I didn’t feel we would be very welcome guest of the NVA and even if we were, I was not particularly interested in being a guest at the ‘Hànôi Hilton’). Sergeant Bemis continued to scan and report the situation with the fire and condition of the wing from his vantage point in the cargo bay, when all of a sudden he announced in a very calm voice, ‘There goes the wing flap on the right side,’ just very matter of fact, no obvious excitement noted in his voice. When we were getting one problem under control another would come up and we started losing hydraulic pressure, causing the pilots to increasingly focus on the latest problems, which in all likelihood would soon increase in intensity. For the first time the realization that we possibly wouldn’t get out of this came to my mind, however in about the same instant I was able to rationalize that if this was the way it was to be, it would be, but I wasn’t going to give up or just quit trying, so I maintained a can-do attitude and tried to keep the Grim Reaper at a respectable distance.
‘Sergeant Bemis made another announcement, this time that the right aileron was leaving the right wing; the fire seemed to be spreading and globs of metal were rolling off the wing. This must have been about the time an Army helicopter recon team saw our plane and thought we could use some help, as they noticed the fire going past the tail and parts of the aircraft shedding off the wing. We were not aware of their sighting us until later in the day; we were not in any way involved with each other’s activities and they just happened to be in the area and saw us go by.
‘An oxygen bottle exploded, leaving a gaping hole on the right side of the aircraft. Sergeant Bemis reported that white smoke was visible (white smoke in an aircraft fire is not a good thing, it indicates a magnesium fire that won’t go out till it is all consumed) and I was convinced it was time to find a place to set the bird down and quickly.
‘I noticed the pilots were both very busy trying to maintain altitude and directional control. I looked around for a clearing and dead ahead of us was a clearing that appeared level and free of trees. I announced on interphone it was time to land ‘ASAP’ and that we had a clearing just in front of us and I turned and started to strap in my seat, facing forward. Just then, our South Việtnamese Sergeant Kiem came up on the flight deck with a bandage in his hand. He wanted me to help him put it on a neat bullet hole midway between his knee and ankle on his left leg. Since we were about to touch down I said ‘NO’ and motioned for him to get back down the steps to the cargo area.
‘The pilots were beginning to really have some serious control problems since the right wing was melting off as we flew, including the right aileron and flap being gone; flight control hydraulics were also gone, making holding the wings level and aircraft directional control a real challenge.
‘The last thing I remember about the pilots before touchdown was of them expending a lot of effort trying to hold the wings level. The significant aspect of the entire thing was just prior to touch down the right wing started to drop significantly, if the landing aircraft has a wing tip touch down before the rest of the plane, disastrous results can be expected (like a cartwheel and aircraft disintegration). However just prior to touch down, the right wing came level almost simultaneous as we crashed and we were going straight ahead.
‘With rice paddy dykes and craters from artillery or B-52 bombing, the crash landing was not very smooth. As it turned out, we had landed downwind instead of the preferred into the wind but even that turned out to be rather fortunate for us since the aircraft made a180 degree turn with the nose of the aircraft facing into the wind and all the smoke from the aircraft fire was blowing back toward the tail section.
C-130E (63-7811 or 63-9811) gets airborne on a hot sunny day at Đà Nẵng Air Base in Việtnam in 1972. The main landing gear is already almost fully retracted and the nose gear in transit with the nose gear doors still open ... co-pilot hot on the landing gear lever. Getting the landing gear retracted quickly was important on takeoff with heavy loads in order to reduce drag and allow for much improved climb performance. (Robert D. Young)
Again we were lucky because the wind was light and kept the smoke away from where everyone was located in or near the aircraft after the crash landing without fanning the flames, making recovery so much easier.
‘I was strapped in with the seat facing forward. During this short span of time which seemed to be an eternity, I was hanging on to the navigator’s desk with all my might; things were flying all around the cockpit and I was just about to give up trying to hang on when all the motion and noise stopped and a deadly silence settled over the airplane.
‘The airplane was burning, a lot of smoke was in the vicinity but the cockpit appeared to be fairly clear of smoke. I was attempting to untangle myself from radio cables that had wrapped around me and the seat during the crash landing and there was an eerie cry for help coming from the cargo area, ‘Don’t Leave Me’ - it was Sergeant Ralph Bemis, with all sorts of debris on top of him.
‘I was having difficulties with the seatbelt release, it wouldn’t release in the normal fashion, so I got my knife from the pocket on my flight suit and I started cutting seat belt and the radio cords . Just after the crash, I must have been rendered unconscious for a short while as I don’t have any recollection of the pilots departing the flight deck.
‘Fortunately for Sergeant Kiem, the South Việtnamese soldier, he was able to hang on throughout the crash landing about mid way down a 3½ foot ladder that goes between the flight deck and cargo floor level. When the aircraft came to a halt, the nose gear was collapsed and under the aircraft, the crew entrance door had been torn off and all he had to do was step out onto the ground that was level with the lower floor.
‘Captain Jensen, once outside the aircraft, noticed Sergeant Kiem was unable to walk, so he picked him up and carried him away from the aircraft and eventually to one of the rescue Hueys that would pull up in front of the aircraft nose. Captain Jensen later relayed to me his thought was one of the Cobra helicopters may have mistaken Sergeant Kiem for an unfriendly and done him in, so picking him up would take care of that potential problem.
‘During the crash landing, with the wheels hitting soft ground, rice paddy dykes and craters, the aircraft slowed down much faster than it was designed to do; therefore a considerable amount of debris from the back
of the cargo bay had come loose, pinning Sergeant Bemis to the floor with a broken arm and ankle. Airman Armstead was free and relatively unhurt and he attempted to dig Sergeant Bemis out of his predicament with no success and found it necessary to exit the cargo area through a large hole in the right side of the aircraft for some fresh air, due to the smoke in the cargo area. He exited and re-entered several times, not wanting to leave his fellow loadmaster. I went down the ladder and immediately saw a pile of twisted metal and an assortment of other aircraft parts all on top of Sergeant Bemis. I made an attempt to clear them, but it seemed to be an impossible task as I couldn’t move anything and started bleeding rather vigorously from cuts on my forearms and hands from the jagged, sharp edges of the various pieces of metal I was trying to remove.
‘After some time in my attempt I decided we would need some outside help in extracting him from his position so I went out of the crew door opening and walked a few steps to about the nose of the aircraft and promptly found myself up to my chin in water. I had stepped into one of the bomb craters that had filled with water and which was covered with thick elephant grass on top. I figured it would be best to just stay there and try to call for help on my SAR (Search and Rescue) radio from that position, keeping a low silhouette in case someone was looking for a large upright target to shoot at.
‘I pulled out my radio to make a ‘Mayday’ call and the antenna fell off and went ‘Plop’ into the water - a bad thing. Next I heard a helicopter approaching from the front of the aircraft - a good thing and I started to climb out of the watery hole. I had just got clear of that when I heard this very loud swishing sound. At first I felt the aircraft was exploding from the fuel fire but it was a rocket being fired by a Cobra gunship overhead. I eventually made it to the Huey that had pulled up near the plane and all the C-130 crew had by now been rescued from the burning aircraft. We had just lifted off when both door gunners started firing their .30 calibre machine guns. Someone had seen fire coming from the tree line, which the door gunners were trying to suppress.
‘Upon arrival at the 3rd Field Hospital in Saïgon we all scrambled out of the Hueys and walked, limped or were carried into the emergency room. Since only Sergeant’s Bemis, Airman Armstead and Sergeant Kiem had wounds requiring immediate attention and hospitalization, the rest of us wandered out of the hospital and found a ride over to Tân Sơn Nhứt. Two days later, my entire body became black and blue from the banging around I received during the crash landing. I still had not had contact with any medical personnel. That was a big mistake.’17
The crash of ‘Doc’ Jensen’s aircraft when the only serious injuries were the loadmasters who were hurt by flying debris in the cargo compartment led to changes, as Edward Brya recalled: ‘We learned to take the unnecessary equipment out: all the seats, stanchions, chains, devices, tool boxes, etc. while we were flying around the country our resourceful crews were acquiring, some defensive equipment. Later on the supply system finally authorized us ballistic helmets, flak vests and some armour-plated vests. However in the early stages of the battle, we were scrounging for equipment anyway we could. Let me tell you about the way the loadmaster went to war. He would put that armoured vest on, take a flak vest apart, tape it around his legs, lay chains on the floor, put the garbage can on the chains, get in and from that position activate the static line retriever as back up for the drop. Next we tried the MLRADS or the mid level radar air drop system, which used ‘Charlie Brown’ reef cutters on the parachutes. We felt we could increase the accuracy of the deliveries by employing the SAC MSQ radar bomb procedures, which the B-52s used for the ‘Arc Light’ mission and the C-130 for the ‘Commando Vault’ mission our BLU 82 10,000lb bomb. The navigator would give a time and ground speed and drift angle to the MSQ site and they in turn could place you within 50 feet of a requested point by means of a GCA. However we still had to compute an accurate carp for use by The MSQ site. The problem as always was the wind so we took readings each thousand feet on the way up. We made the drops from 8,000 feet using the 40 second cutters. A few of the bundles hit the DZ but a majority fell long. We found out later the chutes were opening early due to improper rigging of the cutters.
South Việtnamese refugees at U-Tapao, Thailand.
‘After two days MACV stopped the high drops and directed us to go back low. Down we went. But this time we went at night and we had gunships to help us. The gunship was much better for our purposes than a fighter. He could loiter in the area and deliver continuous fire on a target while we made our run-in. A side note on how we got the gunships - I was over at 7th AF one morning and saw a friend from Pope, Howard Rowland. He was pulling a 30 day TDY from Ubon as the gunship liaison. The rest is history because the crews couldn’t see the obstacles at night. We flew 500 feet above the terrain. We hoped that at night they wouldn’t see us until we were at the target. But of course with a bright moonlit night, they saw you anyway. We had pretty good success putting the bundles on the DZ from low altitude. But once we got in 2 or 3 per night they wanted more. A requirement for ten sorties a night was laid on.
‘During this time Kampong Trach in Cambodia18 came under attack and was surrounded. We ran a drop to the DZ in the daytime and the aircraft sustained 86 hits. The next night we took in three successful sorties. But this same night we lost our second plane at An Lôc. He was hit and downed approximately two clicks southwest of town. The following night the FACS would not clear any more 130s into the An Lôc area. They considered the fire to be murderous. 23 and 37 mm were active; .51-calibre was everywhere. Meanwhile at Kampong Trach the first aircraft in was hit by .51-calibre from a foursided box pattern. The next two airplanes were sent back by the FAC. We had lost any element of surprise. New ground rules were laid down by 7th Air Force. We would have either gunships or fighters for all night drops and fighters for all day drops. Then 7th Air Force directed planning for a ten ship daylight standard level - one minute in trail airdrop to be supported by fire power from A-37s. Colonel Iosue considered this plan suicide [a view shared by the forward air controllers who were working targets around the city] and when he was unable to get MACV to shut it off, somehow he got word to the C-in-C at PACAF and General Clay turned it off. Again the drops were renewed using night low level procedures. However, some day drops were scheduled to make up for those we could not complete at night.
‘In a few more days we lost the third airplane, this time just east of the town. By now the higher echelons of command were convinced of the danger inherent in our mission and we were allowed to go back to high altitude. But due to defences of the enemy such as 37 mm and the new SA-7 Strela-2 missile [Soviet: ‘arrow’; NATO reporting name SA-7 ‘Grail’],19 we were being forced to go to higher altitudes. The SA-7 downed AC-119 gunships over An Lôc and hit a C-130 gunship at 7,500 feet. By this time help was on its way from the States. TAC deployed two 130 squadrons, the 61st from Little Rock and the 36th from Langley. The 61st was an AWADS [All Weather Air Delivery System] squadron, which along with a newly developed high velocity airdrop. Using 1,000lb bundles fitted to 15-foot slotted parachutes provided the needed airdrop accuracy. The successful airdrops turned the tide and by mid-May the NVA had ceased ground attacks on An Lôc. However, Highway 13 from Saïgon remained closed until late June. From mid-April to mid-May C-130 crews made 57 low-level and ninety mid- or high-level drops at An Lôc. During that time at least 56 airplanes were hit plus the five we lost. Seventeen crew members were killed or MIA and another ten wounded. At night, planes who knew they were hit would come back to Saïgon, shut down and discover fuel streaming out of all four main tanks.’
KC-130F BuNo150687 VMGR-152 possibly at MCAS Futema, Okinawa in 1973.
Linking Pleiku with the port cities of the coast was Route 19; ninety miles of winding roadway capable of supporting heavy truck traffic but vulnerable to sabotage or ambush. During early April, clashes along Highway 19 raised concern for security of the important highlands lifeline. On 11 April North Việtnamese elements succeeded in
blocking the road at the An Khê Pass near the old American cavalry base. Despite heavy Allied airstrikes the Communists held the roadway closed for sixteen days, requiring that all resupply and reinforcement into the interior by air. On 16 April stocks of fuel in the highlands were down to three days and there simply was not yet enough transport available to sustain the necessary military effort.
The next day three C-130s each fitted with large rubber fuel bladders in the cargo compartment began special POL deliveries into Pleiku. The bladders permitted delivery of 4,500 gallons of fuel per sortie (standard C-130s later delivered POL in cylindrical containers, allowing faster off loading than with the bladder-birds). The dark approaches into the high airhead by the heavily loaded C-130s called for peak flying precision. To avoid ground fire from sectors of Kontum city, crews used overhead circling approaches down to 3,000 feet, avoiding use of landing lights until the last possible moment. Portable lights outlined the location of the runway and fuel could be emptied by pumps carried in the aircraft in fifteen minutes. Three such ‘bladder-bird’ aircraft made twelve trips to Pleiku from Tân Sơn Nhứt and Cam Ranh Bay on the 17th. The effort continued the next day and on the 19th a fourth ship joined the effort - three planes hauled JP-4 and one carried aviation gasoline for reciprocating engines. Other C-130s arrived regularly with hard cargo, interspersed with C-141s temporarily tasked to perform missions inside Việtnam. After offloading at Pleiku, many of the cargo-carriers took aboard passengers - refugees from the battered region headed for safer places. Many were dependents of Việtnamese military men; few carried more than scant possessions. One C-141, flown by Captain Richard Semingson and crew, took off with 394 passengers - the most ever lifted by a Starlifter and more than four times the normal load. Observers on the ground at Tân Sơn Nhứt were amazed at the endless file of humanity streaming from the ship’s tail doors.