My War - Installment 10

HELLO ALPHA TROOP

The Huey from "A" Troop landed around 1145 hours. There were two pilots on board, which was standard procedure for Hueys in combat areas. The two pilots were Captain Richardson, "A" Troop's Lift Section leader, and one of his lift pilots, Lieutenant Baker. We were introduced to the two of them when they came into the mess tent.

Captain Richardson told us that we would be starting to fly almost immediately. We'd be given a little time to settle in and then, probably tomorrow, would fly some missions.

We would each be assigned to a ship and fly with another, more experienced, pilot for some time. Later if we remained in the Lift Section, which is where everyone started, when the other pilots rotated out, or transferred to a different section we would move to the command pilot's slots in the lift section. It was all SOP.

As we ate lunch, Bob (Captain Richardson) explained the set up of the Air Cavalry Troop.

"There are four basic divisions within the Troop excluding, of course, administration. There are four field units.”

“There is the Lift Section of which I am the leader. Our job is to lift "A" Tro Recon Platoon into areas for close in ground observation and recon. The Lift section would, if contact was made with the enemy, lift in additional tro, as needed. The Lift section also makes the extractions of tro from operational areas. Often we are called on to carry supplies to permanent LZ's and other units on patrols. We, on occasion, act as airborne ambulances. Once in a while we are called on to sling load awkward loads here and there." (Sling loading supplies is a way of hanging the load, by a sling, located under the aircraft, flying to an area and releasing it on the ground without landing.)

We had done some sling loads in flight school.

"The third division within the Troop is the weapons section. They have various duties. They usually, in an area with Hot LZ's (landing zones), go in and soften up the area before we bring in the tro."

"Mounted externally on the gun sh, usually "B" model Hueys or 540's, are two M-60 machine guns on each skid. There are usually rocket pods mounted on each side. The rockets are 2.5 inches in diameter and have explosive fragmenting heads. Gun sh are also used during fire fights (skirmishes, gun battles etc.) to place suppressive fire on enemy positions. They are, therefore, aiding our recon platoon or whatever ground unit we happened to be working with at that time. Gun sh on occasion have been used to extract grunts, when necessity calls. They have also been used to evacuate wounded upon occasion."

"Finally, the fourth section is the Scout or Recon or White flight. The first prerequisite for the Scout section is to be a section "eight.” I'm sure you know what a section "eight" is, a crazy person, a looney-toon. Well, everybody in the Scouts is just that, CRAZY!"

"To start with they do their Scouting in H-13's. The only protection they have is a little quarter inch plate that goes under their asses and another behind their backs. They have nothing like the ceramic armor seats in the Hueys. They do have ceramic chest protectors like the rest of us, but a good portion of luck is their best protection. They are charged with first and last light missions around LZ and our perimeter. They of course spend the rest of their time looking for the enemy; anyway, their job takes place even before the Recon platoon's. They go out to find the enemy and make initial contact. They do this by flying very low and very slow, so they can easily be seen by "Charlie," then they call us to bring in the recon platoon”.

"If you don't think that's enough, after contact has been made they have to stick around, low and slow, and coordinate the ground action. These guys really run the show."

"They have the choice in our areas of operation of calling in the Recon platoon and directing its movement. Or, they can call in the gun sh, ground artillery, naval artillery, or Navy and Air Force air strikes, or a larger ground force may be called in, and they direct their movement as well. To top it all off they do the majority of coordinating all of these different possibilities in almost any combination."

"I've probably just scratched the surface in what all they do. In addition to their field duties, so to speak, they fly first and last light inspections around our perimeter and other's every day. They probably average twelve or more hours flying time per day."

"That is basically our unit and how it works. Of course, it is all in conjunction with operations and their intelligence sources and liaison with the ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam). I must add the Cav. usually does not work with the ARVN directly, which is a real blessing."

Captain Richardson ended by telling us we should be ready for departure around 1330 hours. He would meet us at the aircraft.

Our flight to Little Hong Kong was too short. I barely had time to think, with looking over the countryside and trying to begin to know some of the landmarks in the area.

Jack and I sat in the back of the Huey gazing out at the landscape below. We had no communications with Bob or Steve. There were no hookups for our helmets. The crew chief had the only other outlet and he was plugged in.

As we approached the camp, I was surprised at its size. There was a fixed wing runway and other units besides "A" Troop's compound, all of the units more or less encircled the airstrip.

No permanent looking structures were found at this base camp. Every size and shape of tent could be seen as we came in, low, to land.

The crew chief, Rip, moved close and yelled to us that the aircraft were landed and maintained right within our unit compound. The helicopters had to stay close by so they could be moved in the event of any attack.

As Bob made final approach, I remembered some of our oral orientation.

"A" Troop was a Cavalry Air Mobile unit. Mobile is the key word. Mobile meant that at any time, depending on intelligence reports and the like, we might wake one morning and find out that it was moving day. That was the prime reason for tents and mobile structures and equipment.

Bob came into the landing area and then hovered over to his aircraft's spot and settled gently down and put out the fire (shut down the turbine). Rip jumped out quickly. Jack and I gathered our belongings and hopped out behind him.

"This is it, Hoss, the real article. We're here. This, my boy, is where the defecation hits the rotary oscillator."

"What?” asked Jack.

"This is the place where the shit hits the fan."

"Yea, I guess you’re right," said Jack.

Rip waited for the rotor to stop and tied it down while Bob and Steve came around and gave us a hand with our duffel.

"Most everyone is here this afternoon. Lift is here and weapons and maybe one or two Scouts. Charlie must have gone on holiday. That's how we got over to get you fellows so soon." Bob continued, "Let's run over by the mess tent and see if Sarge has any coffee on."

We walked over to a very large tent with all the sides rolled up. I'm not familiar with all of the military tent names and terminology, but it reminded me almost of a mini circus tent. We were greeted by a stout mess Sergeant with a sincere smile on his ruddy face. I had the distinct impression we would be eating very well when we would be here for mess. Military messes, especially field messes, can be either lousy or great, and it all depends on the mess Sergeant. A good mess Sergeant can finagle and come up with some fantastic fare, considering the circumstances. We had a quick cup of coffee and met a few of the pilots that were relaxing there at the mess tent.

We left the mess and went to the OP’s tent and checked in.

We met our CO, Lt. Colonel Anderson, Executive Officer, Lt. Colonel Mendenhal and Captain White, (coincidence that he was the White section (Scout – Reconnaissance leader) and a few other pilots CW-2 Brubaker and Lt. Tingley.

After a short chat we left to go to supply where we were to be issued a new "Hex tent.”

"Boy, this is really a nice looking tent," said Jack.

"Yea, let's get it up so we have a place to sleep tonight," I said.

We decided on a nice sunny spot that was vacant and in close proximity to everything in our compound, especially the mess tent. The tent went up in no time at all. We made plans to sandbag the perimeter of the tent up to the level at which the roof sloped upwards, perhaps three-and-one-half to four feet. We would have to do the sand bagging at some later, more convenient, time. As for the present, we needed to pick up the rest of our issue items from supply.

We returned to supply where we were issued sleeping bags, sans air mattresses. The supply Specialist suggested that we make our beds from discarded rocket boxes. The rocket boxes would at least keep us up off of the ground.

"By the way, Sirs, it should only be a few months until the air mattresses come in from what I hear," said the Spec five.

Next, our supply clerk issued us ceramic chest protectors. I had read in "Vietnam Diary" of an incident where a pilot had taken a glancing shot from a fifty caliber and the chest protector saved him. Needless to say I had been impressed and was glad to get my personal chest protector, even if it did weigh thirty-five pounds.

Supply had no hand guns to issue us as side arms. They had been issuing thirty-eights and forty-fives, but...

"We do have for your consideration, (it seemed that the Spec. five had a sense of humor), the choice of either the 12 gauge Savage pump, with the plug removed, or the M-79 grenade launcher. The grenade launcher looks very similar to a, single shot, shot gun but it uses 40mm shot gun shells or grenade projectiles that explode on impact."

I initially declined both. They would, I was sure, be very awkward to shoot from the cockpit. I thanked the Lord that I had brought my own, personal, sidearm.

"...,but Sir, that 12 gauge Savage makes a mighty fine gun for protection. Load it with double aught buckshot and it'll flat blow the snot out of somebody."

"I'm sure it would, but for now I'll stick with my thirty-eight and see how it does. Thanks anyway," I said.

Jack decided to get the M-79 grenade launcher and some extra ammunition. We were anxious to try it out and see what one of the 40mm shotgun shells would do. Before we left the supply tent we grabbed a bale of empty sandbag bags for later use, were issued jungle boots and some camouflage insignias for both rank and our unit. We had dyed our underwear Olive Drab before we left the States, so we were one step ahead of the game. The supply Specialist told us where we could find the rocket boxes. We thanked him and, with our arms full, left for our tent.

We had some extra time to kill before evening mess, so we decided to take advantage of it by filling a few of the multitude of empty sandbags.

"Terrific,” said Jack. "Where in a pig’s eye are we going to get all of the dirt for these sandbags? I'll be damn if I'm going to carry these bastards from any distance, especially after they are loaded."

We stood and pondered the situation.

"I think I've got it; how about this?" I began to elaborate on an idea that had popped into my mind. "All we need to do is dig out the center of the tent. We could put shelves for our beds and we'll need fewer sandbags for the exterior because we would already be below ground level. Sound OK?"

"Shit, sounds great to me,” said Jack. "Ya know, we can dig the center even deeper and run a tunnel right out of the door. Maybe we could even run the entrance tunnel right into a bunker. What do you say? How's that sound?" He seemed to be getting excited about the whole idea.

"Its OK by me," I replied. "As long as we can find the time to do all this, whatever you do call it. I got the definite impression, from Richardson that we just might be getting busy pretty soon. We'll find out at the briefing tonight. We'll probably meet everybody there tonight too."

We started our grand excavation and hurriedly started to fill sandbags, one after another. We worked together cutting the first part of the main trench into our hex tent. The longer we dug the more elaborate our plans became. We were really getting into the moleish activity when we realized it was time for mess. Evening mess was normally served up around 1800 hours, but this depended quite a bit on the activities of the unit on any given day.

The briefing was scheduled early on, that, our first night. It was scheduled for 2100 hours so we would have time to meet everybody, get our aircraft assignments and have an official welcome and orientation from our CO and (Commanding Officer and Executive Officer of the Troop).

As we sat around the mess tent waiting for the meeting to begin, we chatted with some of the other pilots. We learned, from one of the Lift pilots, that the information we had heard from Richardson was just his standard introduction poop. We would, in actuality, switch around for a while and gain some insight into how different pilots handled different situations, even though we would continue to keep going back to our original assignment, at least for a time.