by Matt Jackson
With excitement in his voice, Jeffery said, “Sabre Six India, many, I repeat, many enemy gun positions…” And Jeffery indicated the location. “One truck destroyed with multiple secondary explosions. Estimate five to ten heavy weapon positions and numerous automatic weapons. How copy? Over.”
“Masher One-Five, wait one.” There was a bit more attention in Sabre Six India’s voice.
A few minutes later, Jeffery heard, “Masher One-Five, Sabre Six, sitrep, over.” Sabre Six was the brigade commander.
“Sabre Six, Masher One-Five. We flew the ridges around the valley earlier with negative contact. At oh four hundred, we flew the valley north to south. One truck on the road was engaged with small arms and rockets. Secondary explosions occurred and truck destroyed. Multiple automatic weapons engaged from almost every tree line in the valley. Estimate five to ten heavy automatic positions and numerous small-arms positions. Over.”
“Masher One-Five, say position now.”
“Sabre Six, we are at twenty-five hundred just south of the target area. Lobo is expended. We have fifty percent flares and fifty percent ammo on my ship.”
Turning to Pile, Jeffery said, “God, I hope he doesn’t ask us to go back in there.”
“Masher One-Five, are you in a position to adjust artillery fire?” Sabre Six asked.
“Roger, Sabre Six. I have one hour of fuel left.”
“Roger, Masher One-Five, adjust artillery fire until you have to break station. Notify us when you do. Sabre Six out.”
Jeffery turned to Pile. “You ever adjust artillery fire since you’ve been in-country?”
“No, this’ll be a first.”
“Okay, get your coordinates for that truck written out. Get your first rounds on it and then adjust from there to the tree line,” Jeffery instructed him.
“Masher Two-Zero, we’re going to be adjusting arty on the area. Can you get flares on target?”
“Masher One-Five, roger, I will stay at twenty-five hundred and move right over the target to the drops. We’ll drop the first just before they shoot. What freq will Arty be on?”
Jeffery passed the Artillery frequency to Masher Two-Zero so he could monitor the fire mission. In the meantime, Lobo, who had no more ammunition to expend, headed for Song Be to rearm in case he was needed later.
Jeffery tuned in Song Be Artillery, and Pile made the call. “Song Be Arty, Masher One-Five, fire mission. Troops in bunkers, multiple locations, grid…” And Pile sent the location of the truck.
“Roger, Buffalo One-Five, understood. Will you observe and adjust?” Song Be Arty asked.
“Roger, standing by.”
“Masher One-Five, are you requesting illum on first rounds?”
“Negative, Song Be, we have flare ship providing support,” Pile informed the Artillery.
“Roger, HE with delay,” Song Be came back.
Pile asked, “What’s he mean?”
“He’s telling you that they’re going to shoot high-explosive rounds with a delay fuse so the round will bury itself into the ground before it blows, since you told him troops in bunkers,” Jeffery said.
“Roger Song Be, HE with delay,” Pile confirmed to Artillery.
A minute later, they heard, “Masher One-Five, one-five-five are not available currently. One-seven-five will shoot.”
“Tell him roger,” Jeffery said to Pile.
“Roger, understand one-seven-five support,” Pile responded.
“Evidently the one-five-fives that are within range are tied up supporting a ground unit, so Arty has given the mission to a one-seven-five battery out of Bu Gia Map, which has the range. Unfortunately they don’t have the rate of fire of the one-five-fives, but they do make a bigger bang,” Jeffery added.
“Masher One-Fiver, shot over,” Song Be notified them.
“Song Be, shot out,” Pile answered as a flare ignited at about one thousand feet above the target.
“Masher One-Five, splash.”
“Roger, Song Be, splash.” A single explosion went off in the middle of the valley floor.
“Okay, adjust to the truck,” Jeffery said. “Visualize where the firing battery is at, Bu Gia Map. Visualize the gun target line and the point of impact. Now adjust the round to the target. Forget that bracketing stuff they taught in school. On the ground where you can’t see, it’s necessary. Up here you can see the gun target line, almost see the shooting battery and the target. Bracketing wastes time at this point. Go for the target.” After a slight pause, Jeffery asked, “Got it?”
“Got it,” Pile responded. “Song Be, add five hundred, left five hundred.”
After a short pause, they heard, “Masher One-Five, shot over.” And another flare ignited.
“Roger, Song Be, shot out.”
“Masher One-Five, splash, over.” Before Pile could respond, another explosion erupted, covering the burning truck with dirt and trees.
“Close enough. Have him drop one hundred and fire for effect on the tree line where we first took fire,” Jeffery told Pile.
“Song Be Arty, drop one hundred and fire for effect, over.”
“Roger, drop one hundred and fire for effect.” Thirty seconds passed. “Masher One-Five, shot over.” Another flare ignited the predawn sky.
“Roger, Song Be, shot out.”
“Masher One-Five, splash.” The entire tree line erupted in flame with rising columns of dirt as five high-explosive rounds dug deep into the ground before detonating. Masher One-Five and the flare aircraft remained on station and continued to adjust artillery fire for another thirty minutes until low fuel forced them to depart the area. Upon leaving, Masher One-Five contacted Sabre Six.
“Sabre Six, Masher One-Five, over.”
“Masher One-Five, go ahead.”
“Masher One-Five is end of mission for fuel. We’ve been hitting the area with one-seven-fives. Numerous secondary explosions. Would recommend someone look over this area once the sun comes up and continue artillery fires. Over.”
“Masher One-Five, roger. End of mission. Thanks for tonight. Sabre Six out.”
Chapter 12
Follow the Leader
Based on the intelligence gathered from multiple sources and the results of the Night Hawk mission, the infantry battalion commander decided to insert a force consisting of two rifle companies into the valley. Bravo Company received the mission at 0700 and received three aircraft from Company A to round out the flight with sufficient aircraft.
“Flight, this is White One. Is everyone up?” asked Flight Leader, who was the Bravo Company commander. Each aircraft responded in order according to their position in the flight. The first eleven aircraft responded with a White call sign; the last three used a Yellow call sign as they were from a different company within the battalion. White aircraft were from Bravo Company, Yellow from Alpha Company. No one from Alpha wanted to fly with the Bravo Company commander. They had in the past, and the results had not been good, from flying through an artillery strike to getting seven aircraft shot to pieces because he had inserted into a landing zone with no artillery support and minimal gun support. Alpha had lost a couple of pilots that day—none killed, thankfully. In the opinion of most, the Bravo Company commander was more interested in impressing the higher-ups and grabbing medals than keeping crews safe while accomplishing the mission. Once everyone responded, White One began his mission brief.
“This is a thirty-sortie mission, so two turns of fifteen aircraft each. Passenger load will be seven grunts per aircraft initially. Last turn may be lighter but will have mortars and ammo as well. We’ll approach from the south to the north. Landing zone is large enough to accommodate all aircraft in staggered right formation. Lift will be preceded by a four-minute prep of one-oh-fives and one-five-fives.” Everyone liked the sound of that amount of artillery.
“We’ll be escorted by two Lobo aircraft and four Blue Max aircraft.” Blue Max was aerial rocket artillery and was armed similar to Lobo aircraft except Blue Max carried four
2.75-inch air-to-ground rocket pods with nineteen rockets in each pod.
Continuing with the mission brief, White One said, “Flight time to the initial point is ten minutes, IP to H minus six checkpoint, four minutes. Enemy situation as of early this morning, Night Hawk made contact with several enemy positions and took heavy fire. His aircraft had twenty-seven hits from small-arms fire. He did experience some heavy automatic fire but took no hits from them. He destroyed one truck with secondary explosions. Expect a hot LZ. Yellow Three, give me an up when all aircraft are loaded.”
“Roger, White One,” Yellow Three responded. Infantry soldiers going in on the initial assault were in the process of loading the aircraft with the last fifteen sorties, standing back and waiting their turn. Sharp barbs and words of encouragement were exchanged between the soldiers on the first lift and those on the second, but the aircraft noise was so loud, most couldn’t be heard.
“White One, Yellow Three, all aircraft appear loaded.”
“Roger, White One is on the go.” As White One began to lift, so did each aircraft behind him. No one wanted to be caught in rotor wash from the aircraft in front and be forced to use more power than necessary or have to struggle to get back in formation. Initially, White One maintained a slow airspeed until Yellow Three gave him an up that all aircraft were in formation, at which time White One increased airspeed to ninety knots. The flight climbed to fifteen hundred feet in a staggered right formation. White Two was to the right and behind White One. White Three was directly behind and slightly above White One as well as being forty-five degrees to the left and back from White Two. Each following aircraft was positioned accordingly. Door gunners and crew chiefs scanned the ground with weapons up and ready.
“Flight, White One, IP,” he reported. The flight now knew they had four minutes before they would see artillery impacting and could expect the flight to start a descent out of fifteen hundred to one thousand. A few minutes later, smoke and explosions could be seen in the distance as two batteries of artillery began firing on the objective area.
“Flight, H minus six,” White One put out on the radio as the flight continued to fly towards the impacting artillery, which was concentrated on the valley floor. The flight initiated a descent from one thousand feet to five hundred. Lobo gunships and Blue Max remained at one thousand feet and slightly behind the flight of fifteen assault helicopters.
Just as a white phosphorous artillery round impacted in the LZ, White One called, “Flight, H minus two.” All door gunners immediately opened fire on the tree line around the LZ. On the left side of the valley, a UH-1H helicopter that was not part of the formation continued to maintain his ninety-knot airspeed but was at treetop level halfway up the ridge overlooking the LZ. Suddenly, thick white smoke billowed out from his exhaust, covering the ground and obscuring the LZ from anyone on that ridge-line. At the same time, two Blue Max aircraft entered into one-thousand-foot-per-minute dives as they punched off 2.75-inch air-to-ground rockets into the tree lines around the LZ. The assault helicopters were now at two hundred feet and had slowed to sixty knots airspeed as White One was picking his landing spot. Two more Blue Max aircraft entered their dives as the first two cleared the area and began delivering their ordnance. The assault helicopters were engaging the tree line with their M60 machine guns as they began to touch down, and troops disembarked, throwing themselves on the ground immediately.
As White One began to depart, the tree line opened up with a beehive of green tracers directed at the assault aircraft. Almost immediately, every aircraft reported taking hits. Lobo was entering his dive and began placing rockets on the tree line, but it was almost ineffective as the enemy was in underground bunkers with overhead cover. Only a direct hit would do serious damage, and the rockets weren’t designed for accuracy. They were what was referred to as an area weapon and not a precision guided weapon. The flight followed White One out to pick up the second lift.
Once cleared of the valley, White One called for a damage report. Most aircraft reported some hits, but none indicated they had serious damage that would preclude their continuation with the mission. No one had been injured, which was always a welcome announcement.
“Blue Max Two-Five, White One, over.”
“White One, Blue Max Two-Five, go ahead.”
“Blue Max, will you accompany us on the next turn?” White One asked.
“That’s a negative, White One. We expended everything on that turn. Returning to Song Be for rearming and another mission. Good Luck. Blue Max out.”
White One now realized that he would have limited gun cover at best. Switching frequencies, he said, “Lobo Six, White One, over.” Lobo Six was the Lobo company commander. When he discovered that Masher Six was leading this mission, he decided that he would participate and make sure his crews didn’t get placed in a precarious position.
“White One, Lobo Six, over.”
“Lobo Six, White One, what’s your status?”
“White One, we are fifty percent, over.”
“Roger, understand you will cover us on this turn?” White One asked.
“Roger, we will cover,” Lobo 6 indicated. A sigh of relief could be heard in almost every aircraft in the flight. Crews just felt better knowing that Lobo was covering them, sort of like a guardian angel. Experience had shown that when things got really bad, Lobo gave a maximum effort to help the assault aircraft, even making gun runs when they were out of ammo just to divert the enemy’s attention away from the Slicks. Good-natured barbs were tossed between gun crews and Slick crews. Gun crews would state that “Slicks are for kids.” Slick crews agreed with that statement to a point and added, “With balls.” Slick pilots would always gladly jump at a chance to fly front seat in a gunship, especially the AH-1G Cobra. Never saw a gun pilot jump at the chance to fly in a Slick on a combat assault or any other mission. Wonder why?
Chapter 13
Ground Pounder
“Dog Breath Six, Bulldog Six-One, we are in heavy contact. Bunkers, over,” the young second platoon leader called in an anxious voice. It was his first time in combat, having just arrived in-country.
“Bulldog Six-One, Dog Breath Six, roger. Call for arty fire,” the company commander calmly directed. This was not his first rodeo.
On the ground, the infantry company commander, Captain Stubbs, felt blessed that his entire rifle company was on the ground with him, minus the mortar platoon, but including the battalion scout platoon. As soon as the aircraft had cleared the LZ, Captain Stubbs had directed his artillery fire support officer, FSO, to start calling for artillery fire on one side of the LZ to suppress fire from what appeared to be dug-in bunkers. The FSO, had requested and received, another flight of Blue Max attack helicopters and was in contact with Blue Max. He was directing their fire where he felt their nineteen-pound 2.75-inch air-to-ground rockets could do the most good. Some of those rockets were flechettes, which were highly effective against troops that had no overhead cover. Against a bunker, flechettes were ineffective.
In conjunction with artillery fire pounding one side of the LZ and keeping enemy forces at bay, Captain Stubbs began to maneuver the scout platoon that was attached and receiving the least ground fire towards the tree line. If that platoon could get in a position to flank the enemy, the other three platoons that were currently pinned down in the middle of the landing zone would place supporting and suppressive fire on the enemy positions. However, since the enemy was positioned in a circle around the LZ, this was not a simple task, and the ground force began to take casualties. As was typical in these situations, and what was complicating his ability to fight the fight, however, was the fact that at twenty-five hundred feet above in a helicopter was his battalion commander, who thought he was helping by giving the captain instructions on what to do. Since this was the only real show in town, the brigade commander, in his own helicopter flying a thousand feet above the battalion commander, was providing guidance to the battalion commander on how to fight this fight. The on
ly result could be confusion for the ground commander. Captain Stubbs was on his second tour in Vietnam and knew what needed to be done. He turned off his battalion command radio and got busy doing his job as he saw fit. He knew that he had to get the LZ secured for the next lift, which would be arriving shortly.
“Dog Breath Six, Doberman Six-One,” the scout platoon leader called Captain Stubbs. Small-arms fire could be heard in the background, but no explosions.
“Go ahead, Doberman Six-One.”
“Dog Breath Six, we have secured this portion of the tree line. There’s another open area behind this tree line, and we’re not receiving any contact from the far tree line.”
“Doberman Six-One, do you have anyone across to that far tree line?”
“Roger, Dog Breath, I pushed out one squad. Negative contact.”
“Doberman Six-One, hold your position. Be prepared to pop smoke and secure that LZ.”
“Roger, Doberman Six-One out.”
Switching to his other radio, the company commander attempted to contact White One, with no success. Finally he realized he must resort to contacting the battalion commander, who was probably hopping mad that he hadn’t been talking to him for the past ten minutes.
“Crescent Six, Dog Breath Six. Over.”
In an irate voice, Crescent Six replied, “Dog Breath Six, where the hell have you been?”
Boy, he sounds pissed, Stubbs realized. Tough, he isn’t down here. “Crescent Six, we’re having some radio trouble.” Wonder how many times that lie has been told in this war. “Crescent Six, LZ is not secured. Repeat, LZ is not secured. Have second lift land one klick to the east, and contact Doberman Six-One. He’s securing alternate LZ and will pop smoke. Over.”
“Dog Breath Six, roger. Second lift is departing for your location at this time. Be prepared to receive a third lift with other elements to be determined. Over.”