Medal of Honor

by Matt Jackson

  “Well, we’re working for the same people as you and just finished a resupply to a unit north of here. Haven’t heard what they have next for us, so we’re just waiting on them to get back on the next load,” Mike said as he began pawing through a case of C-rations.

  Reid headed back to his aircraft, where Craig and Patterson had finished their chores and were napping in the cargo area. After a half hour, a jeep with the US advisor aboard came to a stop in front of Reid.

  “Mr. Reid, we need a couple of more resupply runs into Firebase Six. That last run helped, but they’re still under a lot of pressure. How soon can you go?” the advisor asked. Patterson and Craig began climbing into their chicken plates.

  “Sir, I can be off as soon as your sling load is ready, but first, what’s the enemy situation up there? No one said anything about half the perimeter being overrun until I was on short final. Got the piss shot out of my tail boom,” Reid answered and asked. The advisor could sense that Reid was not a happy camper.

  “Sorry, but I thought Colonel Trien had briefed you on the situation up there,” the advisor answered.

  “Sir, with all due respect for his rank, that chickenshit colonel didn’t tell me squat except fly at ten thousand feet.”

  “Okay, the situation is that Firebase Six is under a full-scale attack with at least three advisors killed. The northern half has been captured, and if you don’t get a resupply of ammo in to them, there’s a good chance the entire firebase will be captured before long,” the advisor explained. “It’ll have to be internal loads. We don’t have any more slings.”

  “How many loads do you have, sir?” Reid asked with a concerned look on his face, thinking that one trip was possible, two was risky and three was outright dangerous at this point.

  “We got two loads—small arms, mortar rounds, medical supplies, and a backhaul of wounded if you can. We also have three advisors to get out,” the advisor said, not needing to explain the condition of the advisors.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Mike said as he approached the advisor.

  “Mr. George, I thought you guys left after that last resupply.”

  “Well, sir, we came in here to refuel and Reid explained the situation. We have negative comms with our Ops and technically we still work for you, sooo…I can join up with Reid to get this stuff in and your wounded out.”

  “God, that would be great. I’ll get them motivated to get the loads together and have them waiting for you in thirty minutes,” the advisor said, climbing back into the jeep.

  Mike gathered his crew around him and stepped back to let Reid give the mission brief.

  “Mike, you want to give the mission brief? You’re the senior aircraft commander,” Reid said, looking at Mike.

  “This is your mission, Roger. You’ve been in there and we haven’t. You’ll be Flight Lead and I’ll be Chalk Two. Great, never take your aircraft into the same LZ the same way three times. Now we’re taking two aircraft into the same LZ for a second time, the same way, and I’m the second aircraft. I’m going to get shot to shit on this one, Mike was thinking.

  Reid went into a detailed explanation of the situation on the ground, the flight path, altitude, and airspeed, as well as checkpoints to and from the firebase and the touchdown point or kick-out point for the aircraft. When everyone was satisfied and understood the plan, both crews returned to their aircraft and started the engines.

  “One, this is Two, we’re up,” Mike reported to Reid on the company UHF.

  “Roger, repositioning at this time,” Reid responded and moved the flight to the waiting stacks of ammunition to be delivered.

  As Mike repositioned next to his load, Kelly and Smith hopped out and began helping the ARVN soldier with loading. At the same time, Mike began instructing Lieutenant Bond. “When we get in there, we’ll kick this ammo out as fast as possible and then load the three advisors. That’s going to be slow, so if we’re not taking fire, Kelly and Smith will give the Vietnamese a hand getting the advisors aboard.”

  “Why can’t medevac bring them out? Aren’t they in the area?” asked Bond.

  “Medevac only brings out the living, sir.” No further discussion was needed, but instructions were once Kelly and Smith were back on the aircraft. “Kelly, RA, when we get on the ground, if you can leave your guns, help the ARVNs get the advisors on board fast. I want minimum time on the ground. Understood?”

  Kelly and Smith acknowledged.

  “Chicken-man Two-Five, this is Lead. Let’s take one-minute separation. That should give time to unload and get out of the way.”

  “Roger Lead,”Mike agreed and looked to Bond, who nodded in understanding.

  “Two-Five, give me an up when you’re all loaded.”

  “Roger, Lead, we’re ready to go.”

  “Two-Seven, on the go,” Reid said as he pulled pitch and initiated a shallow climb to clear the trees and remain at treetop level.

  “Patterson, how does Mr. George look back there?” Lieutenant Bellem asked.

  “Mr. George, looks good, sir, with about one-minute separation,” Patterson responded leaning out of the aircraft and looking back.

  Flying north of Firebase Six, Reid circled around to set up a west-to-east approach, avoiding the north end of the firebase and his previous final approach path. About five minutes out, Reid called Mike as they approached the firebase.

  “Two-Five, the friendlies hold the south side of the firebase. There’s an orange panel on the south side between the berm and what appears to be a command bunker. Try and drop your load on the panel. I’ll get out as quick as I can to clear the pad for you. Any questions?”

  Mike responded, “Two is good.”

  “Two minutes out.” Navigation was no problem as the firebase was on a small hilltop and smoke from the engagement could easily be seen as they raced into the cauldron of tracer rounds, green and red.

  “Gordon, get light on the controls,” Reid instructed as a precaution so Gordon could take control of the aircraft immediately in case he was hit. This was a common practice in the unit. Mike was telling Bond the same thing at this point.

  “Roger.” Gordon’s eyes danced between the instruments and the front window.

  “Guns up,” the crew indicated as they bored into the firebase.

  “Gambler Four-One, Chicken-man inbound, flight of two. Chalk Two to pick up the advisors. Two minutes out with one-minute separation. Over.”

  “Roger, Chicken-man, situation is same-o-same-o.”

  “Understood.”

  Before the aircraft cleared the tree line, small-arms fire was directed at the aircraft. At two hundred feet and ninety knots airspeed, Reid was about to commence a rapid deceleration. NVA soldiers all along the wire turned to see the aircraft, and Craig opened fire with his M60. From the sounds, Patterson was doing the same. Hammer blows told everyone they were taking hits on the aircraft. The nose started to come up in preparation for the deceleration. Suddenly, Craig was no longer looking down at the ground firing his weapon but up at blue sky as the nose of the aircraft pitched violently upward and the aircraft spun to the left. Craig could do nothing but hang on, thinking, We’ve lost the tail rotor. Patterson was hanging on, watching the ground approaching in a spin towards him. He jettisoned his M60, knowing they were about to crash. The spin was so fast, the nose so high, Craig hadn’t noticed that only half a rotor blade now existed as a loud noise overwhelmed him and darkness closed over him.

  One minute behind, the radio pedestal between Mike and Bond showered both with shrapnel as enemy rounds came through the radios and then walked through the engine instruments on the forward panel. Pulling in power and increasing his speed, Mike made a snap decision that they needed to get out of there and quick. Another burst of fire found its mark as Mike pitched forward and blood sprayed his side of the cockpit.

  “Oh shit, I’m hit,” Mike cried out. Lieutenant Bond’s instincts had him assume the flight controls as Mike was in a lot of pain. Both Kelly and Smith engaged
the ground fire as the aircraft sped towards Dak To and away from Firebase Six.

  “Where are you hit?” Kelly finally asked as he left his gun and grabbed one of the four first aid kits, briefly looking back at the aircraft lying on its side outside the wire on Firebase Six. He received no answer and then realized that the intercom system wasn’t working as all the radios had been shot to pieces. Coming forward once the shooting stopped, Kelly moved behind Mike. Looking down, he could see that Mike’s right leg was bleeding a lot but not gushing, which meant that the main artery hadn’t been severed.

  “Here, Mr. George, pack this against the wound,” Kelly yelled above the aircraft noise as he handed Mike a field dressing. It appeared that the round had hit Mike’s lower calf and exited just below the knee. Kelly could see that Mike was in a lot of pain.

  Lieutenant Bond continued to fly the aircraft, hoping that the engine or transmission or any one of a dozen essential elements on the UH-1H hadn’t been damaged. When he approached Dak To, three other Chicken-man aircraft were in the refuel point, and Lieutenant Bond set his approach right to them. As he did so, Lieutenant Frank Zuccardi, standing in front of his aircraft, noticed the lone aircraft and its rapid approach. Something isn’t right, he was thinking when he noticed the holes in the nose and the red stain on the aircraft commander’s chin bubble. Shit, someone’s hit! Frank moved to the incoming aircraft.

  Once on the ground, Frank could see that Kelly was attempting to lower Mike’s seat. The pilot seats were designed to be tilted backwards so the pilots could be pulled out of their seats if wounded. That was how it was supposed to work, but Kelly couldn’t get the seat to lie back. With the help of Smith, the seat finally released and they pulled Mike out and laid him on the cargo floor. His leg was still bleeding, but only a trickle at this point.

  Frank, being the senior officer, asked what happened, and Lieutenant Bond explained. When he was done, Frank said, “Look, medevac is going to have to come out of Camp Holloway to get Mike, so it’ll be quicker for you to fly him back there rather than wait. Is your aircraft okay?” Frank asked.

  “What do you think, Kelly?” asked Lieutenant Bond.

  “I don’t see any damage around the engine or transmission and we aren’t leaking any fluids. Rotor blades sound fine and there are no holes in the tail boom. I think all the damage is in the nose. We don’t have any radios, but I think we’re okay aside from that.”

  “All right, get going, then. I’ll call ahead and have medics standing by at Camp Holloway.” He turned to Mike. “Is that going to be okay with you, Mike?”

  “Yes, sir, let’s just get going,” Mike responded, lying on the floor. They could tell he was in pain but trying to keep it together. Mike was going home.32

  Firebase 5 and Firebase 6

  Chapter 30

  Abort

  Reid’s aircraft lay on its side, rotor blades torn off, tail boom broken in half, and it was outside the wire, down the hill on the friendly side, if there was any friendly side left. Craig Tonjes was shaking the cobwebs out of his brain as light began to penetrate his vision. Although the crash had occurred in what appeared to be an instant, time stood still as Craig watched the sky replace the ground, and then nothing as the aircraft impacted. He lay in his seat for a minute, trying to comprehend what had happened, then realized he had to get out of the aircraft before it caught fire or exploded. As the aircraft lay on its left side, he was on the top of the aircraft, being on the right side. Mike Patterson would be on the bottom, under the aircraft, on the left side. He looked forward and could see Gordon moving in the cockpit. Reid wasn’t moving but was slumped against his armored side plate. Craig didn’t initially notice the crimson stains on the ceiling of the aircraft in the cockpit above Reid.

  “Lieutenant Bellem, are you okay?” Craig called out. Gordon was trying to get positioned so he could get out of the aircraft as he was lying on his side in a sitting position against the radio console.

  “Yeah, now get out of here. Grab Patterson and help him,” Gordon directed. He turned and started to attempt to drop between his seat and Reid’s out the left-side cargo door.

  “How’s Mr. Reid?” Craig asked.

  “He’s dead. Now get out of here,” Gordon directed with a touch of anger in his voice.

  As Craig was now ahead of Gordon and dropping through the same cargo door, he asked again, “Are you sure?”

  “Dammit, Tonjes, he has no face. Now get out!”

  Craig’s head snapped over and he now noticed the crimson blood and white matter above Reid’s head. As Reid was slumped forward, he didn’t see Reid’s face. As Craig lowered himself through the cabin to the ground, he saw Patterson squirming under the aircraft and clawing his way out. Grabbing Patterson’s arm, Craig attempted to drag Patterson free of the aircraft. That was when he realized that his ankle was either badly sprained or broken. When Gordon exited the aircraft, both assisted Patterson. They all wanted to be far away from the aircraft in case of a fire or explosion. Once clear of the aircraft, they held their position, attempting to figure out the next move. The safest route was back up the hill to the firebase, as long as they could reach that portion held by friendly forces. Seeing NVA soldiers moving up the hill in their direction, Gordon took charge of the situation.

  “Okay, stay low and let’s head uphill to the wire and get inside,” he directed them. He started out, crouching low and jogging uphill. Craig and Patterson fell in behind him with Patterson assisting Craig. As they approached the wire that was about twenty meters above them, an American officer appeared on the other side of the berm.

  “There’s an opening in the wire to your left. Head over there and get in here,” he hollered above the sounds of small-arms fire, pointing to his right. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, and Gordon quickly decided that was the way they were going, concertina wire or not. Crawling as fast as they could, the three crew members worked their way through the wire. Once through, all three took off at a sprint to get over the berm. Reaching the far side, they sat down with their backs to the berm.

  “Are you guys okay? Where’s the fourth guy? You have a crew of four, right?” the American officer who had waved them through the wire asked.

  Gordon spoke up. “He didn’t make it. He took one to the face.”

  “Damn.” After letting the crew catch their breath for a minute, the officer directed them to what was considered the command bunker. There were three FM radios on a field table and two ARVN soldiers talking on the radios, receiving reports from the perimeter and sending reports to higher headquarters.

  “I’m Lieutenant Brian Thacker. The senior advisor is Sergeant First Class Salley. I have the artillery observation team up here. Salley’s out on the perimeter now. We had ten US advisors up here, and now we have seven.” In the corner of the bunker, six bodies wrapped in ponchos were noted. “We lost three last night when a sapper got in. We lost three more about an hour ago when a RPG took out a bunker. The northern perimeter was overrun this morning. We’ve been able to hold them at bay with close air support, but if that runs out, we probably can’t hold this position.”

  Sergeant Salley sprinted through the door with his head down, not noticing the crew members. “Damn, Lieutenant, that artillery’s about the only thing holding them off.” Looking up, he was surprised to see the crew. “You guys made it out of that thing?”

  “One of us didn’t. I’m Lieutenant Bellem.” They shook hands.

  “Oh, sir, Sergeant First Class Salley. I’ll try to get another aircraft in here to get you guys out, but not sure if that’s going to happen. Do you need weapons? If so, take one from that stack, and the ammo is over there,” Salley said, pointing to a stack of discarded M16s. “I want you to stay in this bunker, and each of you take a firing port and shoot at anyone that isn’t in a green uniform. Any questions?” he asked, looking at Lieutenant Bellem.

  Gordon just looked at him. “You’re in charge here. Need anything, tell me what yo
u want done.”

  “For now, just take up a firing position and shoot anyone you can. I’m going to get on the radio and see if I can get us some help.”

  With that, Salley was reaching for a radio. The bunker was all sandbags with four one-foot-by-one-foot openings facing the north side towards the enemy and a door on the south side. There was a dividing wall of sandbags in the middle of the bunker, creating two rooms with a doorway from one to the other on the right side of the bunker.

  Salley picked up one of the radio’s handsets. “Gambler Six, Gambler Four-One, over.”

  “Gambler Four-One, Six here, go ahead.”

  “Gambler Six, I have a downed aircraft on the perimeter with three crew members that I need evacuated. They’re in good shape, but I want to try and get them out of here. Can I get another aircraft to come in and get them? Over.” Salley hung his head, waiting for a response. It was obvious that he was tired, having been in this fight since early this morning.

  “Gambler Four-One, understand you have three crew members to get out. Where’s the fourth? Over.”

  “Gambler Six, he didn’t make it. Over.”

  “Okay, Four-One, let me see if I can get a bird for you. What’s your situation? Over.”

  “Gambler Six, we hold the south half of the base camp. They hold the north half. They’re in the perimeter and using some of our bunkers for cover. The air strikes have prevented them from reinforcing, but if you lose the air support, they’ll probably overrun our positions. Over.”

  “Four-One, what about your artillery? Have they seized the guns? Over.”

  “Six, we removed the breechblocks before they could get to them. We will evacuate those as well. Over.”

  “Roger, Four-One, understood. I’ll see about getting a chopper in there to extract that crew, and we’ll try to lay on another flight of fast movers. If your situation changes, let me know right away. Six out.”

  Salley turned to Gordon and explained what they were trying to work out for the crew to get out of there. When he was done, Gordon asked, “So what happens with you and the other advisor if they overrun this place? Are you guys going to get on that aircraft with us?”