Medal of Honor

by Matt Jackson

  “You don’t like flying? What the hell you doing here? You volunteered to be a gunner, didn’t you?” Patterson asked.

  “No, I was an 11 Bravo and got assigned to do this when I arrived in Nam. I didn’t volunteer for this assignment. I wanted to be a grunt,” Dorsey complained.

  “Yeah, well, take this over that 11 Bravo crap. Here you get three hots and a cot. Out there you don’t get diddly-squat. Be happy.” With that, Mondie stood and headed to his bed. Stopping short, he turned. “Oh, and then there was the time that Mr. Fender had a midair with a Cobra in the parking area,” he added.

  “I don’t want to hear about it. Enough,” Dorsey lamented.

  “Nah, this was almost comical. Fender was hovering out to take the runway and a Cobra was coming in. They passed each other, thinking they had enough room to hover past. Nope. The rotor blades touched. The endcap tie-downs clipped each other. I guess you could say they were two rotor blades apart, but I don’t think that’s quite what that means. They both shut down a few feet apart and the blades were inspected. Didn’t even hurt the endcaps. Cranked them back up and flew them off. No damage, no foul.”

  “Okay, I’ve heard enough. I’m going to bed. I’ll probably have nightmares tonight,” Dorsey moaned.

  Patterson stood and started walking towards the door with a beer in hand. “I’m going to see if any chow is left over at the mess hall,” he said, leaving Mondie and Dorsey alone.

  As Mondie got into bed, he said, “Hey, Dorsey, your ain’t going to have nightmares tonight. No, not tonight. You ain’t been here long enough to have them. You will, but not tonight and not about a story you heard. You’ll have them about your story. See you in the morning.” And Mondie rolled over.

  Chapter 17

  Stand-Down

  Since the Cambodian Incursion had ended on June 30, 1970, activity in the III Corps region had become rather quiet immediately afterwards and for a couple of months. The incursion had destroyed much of the NVA supply caches, logistic bases and resupply lines that originated in the southern part of Cambodia at the port of Sihanoukville and came north to connect to the Ho Chi Minh Trail, which came south out of North Vietnam through Laos. Although the Sihanouk Trail was reduced by seventy percent, the Ho Chi Minh Trail was running at capacity. Struck heavily by B-52 bombers, the road was constantly under repair by an army of North Vietnamese dedicated to the cause.

  Activity had been fairly quiet at Lai Khe, especially as there appeared to be fewer and fewer US personnel on the base. More ARVNs were noticed as they had taken over security for the perimeter, and the PX was down to the size of a 7-Eleven store back home. Rumor was that it was closing as well in the near future. Hooch maids were grumbling about lost jobs and guarding the company area vigorously, running off anyone that came around looking for work. About the only US units left were Lobo, Chicken-man and the Robin Hoods along with an MP unit that still patrolled Highway 13. They had almost collocated with Chicken-man. The only clubs left were the Chicken-man officers’ club and the Chicken-man EM club, and both were visited by everyone, since they were flying an aircraft each week to Saigon to pick up beer and liquor as well as soda. Another aircraft went once a week to the PX at Bien Hoa, taking whoever wanted to go to stock up on pogey bait.20

  Some personnel issues were beginning to raise leadership challenges, which generally occurs when soldiers have little to do. Although US units in Vietnam were being sent home, personnel were still being shipped to Vietnam. Upon arrival, many were finding that there were no positions in the MOS that they had trained for. As a result, many soldiers were working in specialties that they weren’t trained for or didn’t care to perform, leading to morale problems. In addition, more and more draftees were arriving, and they questioned why they had been drafted in the first place if the war was winding down.21 Race relations back home were becoming tense, and that was carrying over to Vietnam, especially in rear-area units where individuals didn’t have to rely on their fellow man for survival.

  Not helping the morale situation was the fact that the senior leadership was becoming more oriented towards military standards in dress, appearance and regulations. Military haircuts were more expected than in the past. Boots needed to be shined a bit better. Shirts were to be worn whenever outside or on the flight line. Hats should be worn whenever outside. Printed checklists for start-up and shutdown would be read and not done from memory. None of these points contributed to morale, safety or an efficient and effective fighting force. Then again, the fighting had dropped off considerably in the III Corps area.

  Both clubs were doing a booming business since they were the only shows in town. The EM club advertised a foosball game and was holding tournaments. The officers’ club had its own entertainment, as someone had found a projector and about every fourth night a movie was shown. Night of the Living Dead gave everyone nightmares.22 When not being shown at the officers’ club, the movies would be over at the EM club. The other entertainment at the officers’ club was watching the drunk rooster. That bird wouldn’t drink beer but loved scotch, and for the price of one dollar, you could purchase a shot for the rooster. Drunk roosters cannot walk straight but put out their wings to steady themselves, allowing the tips to touch the ground. Everyone was really desperate for some entertainment.

  “Sir, we really need to do something to boost morale. These guys are sitting around too much, with not a lot to do. Idle hands and idle minds are not a good combination here,” 1SG Miller said to Major Sundstrum.

  “Yeah, I know, Top, but what do you suggest?” Major Sundstrum knew the first sergeant well enough to know that if the first sergeant raised a problem, he had a solution.

  “Sir, I was thinking if we could get a stand-down day, we could have a big party with maybe some live music and some young ladies.”

  “Top, where are you going to get a live band and young ladies for a party?”

  “Sir, you get the stand-down and give me two aircraft to make a run to Saigon for alcohol and let me worry about the rest.”

  Major Sundstrum knew right then that the first sergeant was up to something for the good of the unit. “I’ll see what I can do, Top.”

  Three days later, Major Sundstrum tossed down the gauntlet. “Okay, Top, we have a stand-down coming a week from today. I gave you what you asked for, now make it happen. Should we invite Lobo and Robin Hoods?”

  “If you want and they aren’t flying, why not?” 1SG Miller said with a smile. “I’ll also need a place for the band and girls to spend the night.”

  “Yeah, we can fix them up in the officers’ club since we won’t be using it.”

  A week later at morning formation, the 1SG notified all present that tomorrow would be a stand-down. The mess hall would be cooking outside, grilling steaks, hamburgers, hot dogs and all the trimmings along with beans and potato salad. He also informed everyone that there would be a company formation in the mess hall starting at 1900 hours that evening and it was mandatory. In addition, evening chow would be canceled until 1900. Of course questions were called out—mainly “Why?”—and Top answered as expected: “Because I told you so.”

  After the formation, two flight crews were sent to the orderly room to receive a mission brief from the first sergeant. Those two crews left the orderly room so fast, everyone that saw their departure was wondering if some aircraft was in trouble someplace. Even more suspicions were raised when those aircraft returned that afternoon. A truck met each, and items were offloaded under canvas covers. The crews wouldn’t answer any questions, just smiled and walked off.

  At the appointed time, everyone started drifting to the mess hall, but they couldn’t go in as two MPs stood in front of the closed doors.

  “You can enter when the 1SG says you can enter,” they told anyone who asked.

  At exactly 1900 hours, 1SG Miller opened the double doors to the mess hall and motioned the 120 members of the company to come in, plus the few from other units that could get off and join the festivities. Th
ere was dead silence due to shock. On the back wall opposite the steam and serving line was a slightly elevated stage with drums, microphone, three guitar players and a bass player, surrounded by six young ladies of Asian descent in very short minidresses and knee-high boots. In addition, six Caucasian women were also present, standing at the bar directly across from the entrance and dressed in similar fashion. A couple were recognized right away as they were Red Cross workers that had been at Lai Khe.

  Standing at the microphone, 1SG Miller announced in his gravelly voice, “Gentlemen, come on in, get a drink and enjoy the night. Drinks are on the house tonight, as is the entertainment. Chow is being served, and it’s steak night. Tomorrow is a stand-down day, so you can drink tonight.”

  And with that, the party started, and it lasted until midnight. A highlight of the entertainment was Reid dancing with a young lady. Reid was moving to the sound of the drums, doing some gyrations that just kept everyone in stitches, but he didn’t care. That boy loved to dance. He was putting on a regular floor show.

  Unfortunately, unbeknownst to everyone except 1SG Miller, Major Sundstrum had been notified that his replacement would be coming in a couple of days. A new commander was joining the unit. Major Sundstrum was a well-liked and respected commander. He was a fighting commander in that he flew combat missions. He had been flight leader for the Cambodian Incursion and had flown the last mission out of Cambodia with 1LT Cory the day an SA-7 had taken down a Cobra. He would be missed, but he had a few more missions to fly.

  Two days later, Major Sundstrum was flying in support of First of the Seventh Cav. Arriving at the log pad, Major Sundstrum rolled the throttle back to flight idle. Specialist Patterson, his crew chief, came over to the major’s door and opened it.

  Major Sundstrum turned to look at him as Lieutenant O’Toole, the copilot, screamed, “No!” Something had hit the windshield with a splash, and it was covered in what appeared to be red clay. Out of instinct, Patterson ducked at the noise. Major Sundstrum couldn’t see out the forward windshield but didn’t need to. He realized that the windshield wasn’t covered in red clay but in blood and brain matter.

  “Shut her down, Lieutenant,” he directed his copilot and began undoing his seat belt.

  Patterson slowly stood up and stepped out from the open door that had shielded him. The Supply sergeant from Company B lay on the ground in front of the aircraft. He had walked down the slope right into the main rotor blade, which was difficult to see, especially if one wasn’t paying attention around the aircraft. Death had been instant when the rotor had hit him in the head. Major Sundstrum had flown his last mission.

  Chapter 18

  A New Sheriff

  Major Adams was on his second tour as an aviator. He had demonstrated that he was a thoughtful, aggressive leader. He quickly got checked out on his orientation flight and began flying some missions, which, in the fall of 1970, were not that numerous as things were winding down rapidly in the III Corps area of operations. The First Air Cavalry Division had received a warning order that it would be departing Vietnam in January 1971 but that some of the aviation units would be staying in Vietnam in support of those units remaining and the ARVN units in the III Corps region.

  After about three weeks in command, he decided to hold formal weekly command and staff meetings. In attendance at the first one was the company First Sergeant, company Executive officer, Operations officer, Maintenance officer and Supply officer as well as the Medical officer. As there was no conference room per se, the meeting was held in the major’s office.

  “Okay, let’s get started. Let’s stay on point tonight, focusing on the status of the company, identifying any issues we have, to include shortages in personnel and equipment, and addressing maintenance issues and operational status. Once those items are covered, we can address other topics you feel need my or others’ attention. XO, why don’t you start us off?” Major Adams directed.

  “Yes, sir. The major issue I’m working right now is security here at Lai Khe. With the departure of the First ID and just about every other US unit here, we need to consider establishing our own security for the airfield as well as the Chicken Coop. I’ve been talking to the other aviation units and the MP company and we’re putting together a security plan that’ll cover the aircraft and containment area. We should have something together by next week that we can brief you and the other commanders on,” Captain Wehr said. He had been company XO for some time and was approaching his DEROS date back to the States.

  “Good. The MP company commander is in on this as well, correct?” the major asked.

  “Yes, sir. In fact, he’s the one that approached me and the Lobo XO, and we dragged the Robin Hood XO into this as well,” Captain Wehr explained.

  “Good. Keep me posted,” the major said. “Anything else?”

  “No, sir,” Captain Wehr responded.

  Looking at 1SG Miller, Major Adams asked, “1SG, what you got?”

  “Sir, company strength right now is ten commissioned officers, twenty-seven warrant officers, and ninety-eight enlisted. Of those ninety-eight enlisted, we’re seeing an increase in those that were drafted. Not saying they’re a problem, but the morale of those people is a bit down compared to what we were seeing a year ago when most folks were volunteers. The draftees see the war as winding down, and with so many people being shipped home, they have a problem with being sent here. The other issue we’re having is that we’re getting people in with the wrong MOSs, or we have an overfill for people with the same MOS.”

  “Not sure I follow, 1SG,” the major responded with a quizzical look.

  “Well, sir, for example, if we get an 11 Bravo infantry guy in, I can put him on as a door gunner and that’s okay. We’re so over-strength in crew chiefs that I have one working in the mess hall as a cook. He’s happy, but… I have a crew chief working in the orderly room as a clerk typist. We have a dental hygienist that I finally put in the aid station even though we have no dental facilities here. I can find stuff for people to do, but for the most part they’re not happy as they aren’t working in the fields they were trained for. We’re so over-strength in avionics repairmen that I put two in the Operations section to monitor the radios.”

  “What about officers?” the CO asked.

  “We’re okay there right now, as we need forty-two to launch all the aircraft, but seldom do we have all twenty-one aircraft up, so some guys can be on leave or R&R and we’re okay. I watch that schedule pretty close to make sure we don’t have too many gone at the same time.”

  “So no major personnel issues is what you’re telling me?” the major asked.

  “No, sir. A few Article 15s pending for you, one for drunk on duty and three for smoking pot,” the 1SG replied.

  “Three for smoking pot?” the major said, looking up from his notes quickly.

  “Ah, yes, sir. They’re three guys in the service platoon.”

  “Have they been offered the Article 15s yet?”

  “No. No, sir, they haven’t. We were waiting for you to address them as this only happened last night.” The 1SG looked to the XO for some support on this, but the XO was suddenly looking at his notes as the service platoon fell under his leadership.

  “Good, then don’t offer it. All three can stand summary court-martial. That ought to send a clear enough message to everyone that I will not tolerate pot smoking or any kind of illegal drug use. Is that clear enough?” The CO looked around the room. Each attendee acknowledged.

  “Put the paperwork together and let’s get it up to Battalion tomorrow on the courier bird. Have those three in my office at oh eight hundred, and I’ll read the charges and make sure they have their Miranda rights read to them. Say nothing to these three about what they’re getting,” the major directed. “Anything else, 1SG?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Ops, what you got?”

  “At the present time, we have eighteen aircraft commanders, of which four are qualified as flight leaders. We have two
unit instructor pilots for in-country orientation flights and additional training. I will bring you the records on a couple of pilots that I believe are ready to move up to aircraft commander with the recommendations of the other aircraft commanders. Sir, as you may know, we’ve seen a dramatic drop in our flight hours supporting the division, but a major increase in supporting the ARVNs and specifically Third ARVN Airborne Brigade. Currently we’re being told to just respond to their requests, which come in sort of haphazard. I’d like to have a liaison officer over there working with them so we can better plan our pilot and aircraft usage and cut down on the ‘hey you’ missions,” Captain Beauchamp stated.

  Supporting his comments, the out-going maintenance officer, Captain Head, jumped in. “Sir, if I may, this would be a help to the maintenance situation as well as allowing me to plan and manage our maintenance flow. I would have an idea of how many aircraft we would require for the next day’s missions.” Captain Head had already been notified that he was leaving Chicken-man and being transferred to the Mashers to replace their maintenance officer. Captain Finn had arrived two months prior and was maintenance qualified. He would be taking Captain Heads place in Chicken-man.

  “Okay, I’ll get with you later, Ops, and let you know who we’ll tag to be company LNO—unless you have a recommendation.”

  “I’ll get back to you on that, sir.”

  “Maintenance?”

  “Sir, of our twenty-one aircraft, three are in for one-hundred-hour periodic inspections. One aircraft, 532, is equipped with the smoke generator system but is still used for missions if smoke isn’t being used. The pilots don’t like to fly 251 as that has been used in the past for defoliant missions and the aircraft is covered in that oily stuff. If we could get ahold of a steam cleaner, we could clean it up, but right now there is none around here and the one at Battalion is broken; has been for a while. Currently we have no aircraft in maintenance due to combat damage. We have one aircraft in for a blade strike and should have a new blade and back up in a couple of days. That’s about it for now, sir,” Captain Finn concluded.