Best mission I ever flew

Before I get into the post relating to "getting caught" for the pyromania maneuver I pulled between Phu Loi and Phuc Vinh, I wanted to back up a month and describe something that I consider to be the best combat mission I ever flew.

In late November of 1970, the Aero Rifle Platoon of the 11th ACR, Air Cav Troop, was preparing for an operation between Long Binh and Xuan Loc. I had already fought the Dong Nghai Regiment of the NVA there when I was with the 199th and was very familiar with the entire area.

As a coincidence, the Landing Zone was in the exact same spot where we conducted Nighthawk missions and blew up the 18 wheeler log truck one night. It carried saw logs that were hollowed out and filled with weapons, ammunition, rockets and mortars for the NVA.

You should have seen the secondary explosion that occurred when we shot the logs. It was huge and somewhat like the pictures we'd seen of Pearl Harbor when the Japs hit the powder magazine of a battle ship.

Just prior to the mission, I didn't connect the dots but I would very soon. I didn't have a briefing that included maps and other Intel but if I had seen the map and the LZ, you can bet I would have issued a warning to all that the place had been crawling with NVA only 90 days back.

As I recall it, every Huey in the Air Cav Troop was loaded to capacity with the ARPS. There were probably 12 Hueys involved in the lift and maybe 60 to 70 grunts loaded with M 16s, M 60s, M 79 grenade launchers, full combat packs and lots of ammo. 

The Loaches and Cobras went in first and scouted the area. I don't know if they had prepared the LZ with rockets and mini gun fire but I do recall that nothing at all happened during the initial stages of the mission when we made a tactical combat approach. I do remember flying behind Gelsomin and that our rotor blades over lapped his blades during the final stages of the approach to land.

I've thought about that approach a million times and wondered "What in the hell would Gelsomin think if he knew we were so close behind him that our rotor blades were overlapping". I had a lot of time in the Huey at that point of my tour but very little time flying in large formations with so many helicopters carrying so many troops.

Wollman and I had done insertions and extractions before but all of them were sorta hush hush and it was only single ship missions not involving any one but us.

In any event, we made the approach, landed without getting fired at, dropped off the Arps and flew to Xuan Loc where we refueled and waited for the orders to extract the troops at the completion of the mission. I remember being very comfortable hanging around the airstrip at Xuan Loc because I'd spent so much time there when I was flying for Fireball Aviation.

All of that was interrupted when we received word that the Arps had run into the NVA and that one hell of a firefight was under way. We were ordered to fly back to the LZ and extract the Arps so the Air Force could could in with fighter bombers and destroy the bunker complexes and surrounding area with napalm, high explosive bombs and rockets. Lots of stuff had to happen before the fast movers could come in so we hauled ass to the LZ to make the extraction. That's when the trouble began.

John Finnerty, the pilot I was flying with that day, sat in the right seat of the Huey and was just as calm as anyone could imagine. We all went to a higher level of intensity when we received a call on the UHF radio.

This was never done as UHF and VHF was reserved from other communications like control towers or Approach Control. We always conducted ship to ship communications or air to ground commo through our FM radio. It was always tuned to the ground commander's frequency and we had to have commo between the ship and the Arps before we executed an extraction under fire.

When we received the word that the attempts to contact us by radio had failed, we were given orders to double check our commo. Nothing worked, we heard nothing and could transmit nothing. From that standpoint, we were deaf and mute. Orders were given for Finnerty and I to set up a holding pattern west of the LZ and to await further orders.

We pulled out of formation, flew to the area where we were going to execute a holding pattern, and watched the other 11 Hueys go into the LZ. We already knew that there was one hell of a firefight going on between the Arps and the NVA but we didn't have a clue if the firefight was on the edge of the LZ or if it was farther away from the LZ which would have made the LZ somewhat safer for the extraction.

I guess it really didn't make any difference because we would never leave anybody on the ground that needed to get out and regardless of where the NVA were or how many were there, the Hueys were going in anyway and they were going to get our guys out. Period.

We knew something was wrong when we watched the Hueys executing quick stop maneuvers as they approached the spot where they would come to a complete stop and the Arps would board the helicopters and get out of the LZ.

Quick stops were maneuvers that would allow the Huey to come to a complete stop in as short a period of time as possible. It was a violent maneuver that required a nose high, tail low attitude to bleed off the approach speed in as short a time as possible.

To further the confusion of being deaf and mute, the dust storm caused by the rotor down wash from 11 Hueys, now made us blind. Finnerty and I couldn't see anything that was going on in the LZ other than the dust storm that looked like something out of a movie from the days of the Oklahoma Dust Bowl.

A few moments after the dust storm began, we noticed the first of 11 Hueys pulling out of the LZ. We counted. One, two, three.................Just before we saw the last Huey make it over the trees that surrounded the LZ, the UHF radio clicked and we received another shitty radio call.

"Blue 28, be advised that we have 4 Arps left on the ground and you need to go in and get them out NOW." They are taking cover behind a log that runs along the south side of the road. We will guide you in".

That's when the pucker factor took over. We use pucker factor to describe how "tight" your ass is to the seat.

As we were heading south at the time of the call and the LZ was just east of us, we made what could have been described as a "left wing over" from 1,500' of altitude and dived toward tree top level at VNE. The term "VNE" means "Velocity Not To Exceed".

Basically, it describes the maximum speed limit of the helicopter beyond which, the rotor comes off. When you first hit that speed limit, it's real scary as the helicopter begins to shake violently and lets you know that you are about to die. I'd been in it once before but never in a Huey. In any event, even though we were flying at the red line, we reached tree top level and the "dive portion of our approach was over". There was no rotor vibration and I knew we'd made it okay to that point.

I couldn't see the LZ from tree top level but I could see the area where the trees stopped and an open area without trees began. I received another radio call on UHF. Somebody came on the radio and gave us what we called a non gyro GCA approach.

He said: "Blue 28, turn right"..............and a second later, he ended the call with "stop turn." He helped us line up with the road that ran through the LZ and allowed us to make a straight in approach to the fallen log that the Arps were using as cover. When we passed the last tree and were over the LZ, we began our own quick stop maneuver.

I'll get into the description of the things that were going on in the LZ when we were making our final approach later. It was provided by Ed Ursery, one of the 4 Arps that was left on the ground and it is a most interesting eyewitness report of the story from his perspective.

In any event, despite the fact that we'd been blind, deaf and mute, we'd managed to make it to the area where the log was. As soon as we touched ground, I could hear and literally feel the Arps hitting the floor of the Huey as they jumped on board.  I counted only three men but immediately.swiveled my head to look out the left side of the Huey cockpit window to see Ed Ursery running his ass off as fast as he could.

When Ed made it to the Huey but before he was completely inside, the Arps and the crew began to yell: "Go, go, go". I grabbed as much pitch as I could without losing rotor RPM and began to take off and get the hell out of there as fast as I could.

Ed had his feet on the skid with his upper torso inside the helicopter. The Arps had him in their grasp so he wouldn't fall out. Despite that, I was too close to some of the shorter trees at the end of the LZ and as I pulled out of the LZ, the chin bubble on the front of the Huey was hit by a limb and the scrub brush and limbs began hitting Ed in the ass and almost pulled his pants off. Again, his version of the details will come shortly.

After all that, with a full load of Arps who had just narrowly escaped death, we began the short trip back to home base at Dian and were there in a matter of 15 minutes or so.

When I pulled the Huey into the revetment where we always parked, the Arps got out and waited next to the Huey while we began our two minute turbine cool down period that had to come before we could shut down and do our post flight inspection. I saw Ed Ursery, Sgt Kerry Earl, Sgt Dee and one other Arp who I didn't know. They looked like death warmed over and simply waited there while we shut down.

When that was finished, Sgt Earl, the senior man, came over to me, put his arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. As he was backing away he said:

"Mr. Butler, you just saved our lives. If anybody ever gives you any shit about anything, you let me know and I'll take care of it. I'll do anything and by that, I mean ANYTHING".

I recall being somewhat exhausted by all of it and I remember watching the 4 Arps walking away from the helipad as we began heading back to our part of the Troop for a well deserved rest and an after action report.

As I close this, I want to remind you that this action took place at the very end of November of 1970 which was a full month before I was caught trying to burn down Vietnam.  I will tie all that together shortly but I felt it was important for the readers to understand this before I continue with the story regarding those things that unfolded after the armory situation was discovered.

Hand salute to the many Arps that were there that day, to John Finnerty, a great combat aviator, to the entire Slick Platoon, the crew members, the Cobra gunship pilots and Scout pilots that made all of this possible.






 

 

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