Rolling Thunder

by Mark Berent

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  1300 Hours Local, 29 January 1966

  Headquarters, 3rd Tactical Fighter Wing

  Bien Hoa Air Base, Republic of Vietnam

  Two days after the battle, the final and most formal debriefing of War Zone Charley Three was held at the 3rd Tactical Fighter Wing headquarters. In attendance to hear the tactical air support side of the story were two MACV brigadiers, one from J-2 Intelligence and the other from J-3 Operations; the lieutenant colonel from the 1st Infantry Division who had been in command of Task Force Rover; and Colonel Leonard Norman of USAF Intelligence.

  The Army representatives had already met with the com­manding officer, 5th Special Forces Group at the C Team facility in Bien Hoa. As Wolf Lochert was their represen­ta­tive, the men from 5th were particularly interested in his report.

  Lochert had already read Myers's after-action report before the briefing. After he listened to Myers orally debrief and answer questions from the MACV people, Lochert said he had nothing to add except that Myers and Detachment A-302 of the 5th Special Forces Group were the best unit he had ever been in the field with, and he, Major Wolfgang Lochert, hereby notified the assembled officers that he was putting the Mike Force Team in for a unit citation and submitting SFC Charles Haskell, better known as Snake, for the Medal of Honor. The SF people and the armor lieutenant colonel nodded in agreement. MACV J-3 Ops immediately concurred. MACV J-2 Intel coughed and said he'd decide each case on its own merit. "I'm sure," said MACV J-3 Ops looking MACV J-2 Intel straight in the eye, "that COMUSMACV will favorably endorse both recommendations without requiring extraneous counsel."

  On that note, the session was recessed to be reconvened at the Bien Hoa Air Base. Along the way, Lochert and Myers stopped by the team house to pick up Monaghan.

  The commander of the 3rd Tac Fighter Wing, Colonel Jake Friedlander, welcomed the group to the Wing's main debriefing room where he gave them a quick show-and-tell of the USAF participation in the relief of the Task Force Rover armored column as well as the support for the Mike Force rescue. He explained his first chart depicting Bien Hoa F-100s flying 121 sorties dropping 50 tons of ordnance over the three-day battle. His second chart displayed the sortie count from supporting USAF bases that supplied fragged close air support, and air support diverted from other missions with a lesser or expired priority. He was also pleased to report the 3rd Tac Fighter Wing maintenance people had put forth such a fine effort that all squadrons were able to report a 92 percent in-commission rate for their F-100s. Finally, he compared response time for air support arriving overhead from the moment the request was made by the ground commander.

  "It is clear," he said, "that the request from a ground unit via a FAC relaying directly to a squadron for immediate air support is fast. Faster than putting the request through the DASC (Direct Air Support Center) who, if he can't fill it from airborne diverts, passes it up the line to the TACC (Tactical Air Control Center).

  "At the TACC it must compete with other units calling for air support. In comparison, the dedicated squadron approach, at least in our battle, was faster by about 25 percent. In actuality, that meant a saving of seven minutes. Furthermore, our dedicated F-100s carried ordnance exactly appropriate to the field requirement."

  Though outwardly enthusiastic in presenting the figures to the Army officers, Friedlander privately thought the new system cumbersome and redundant. But, 7th Air Force wanted it tried out in III and IV Corps for at least a month, or five operations, which ever came first. At the end of that period, an impartial eval­uation would be performed which would decide whether or not to continue the Rapid Response Plan, or RRP, as it was called.

  What no one in the assemblage knew, in fact what no one outside of the 7th Air Force staff knew, was that this RRP was the brainchild of a USAF lieutenant colonel working in the strike plans branch of the TACC. He was bucking for full bird in the best way he knew how--make a change, any kind of change, and get it reflected in his OER (AF Form 707, Field Grade Officers Effect­ive­ness Report).

  The LC had, on his 9th F-105 mission into Route Pack 6 over downtown Hanoi, decided he could better serve his country in the headquarters at Tan Son Nhut, and had volunteered to fill one of the many staff requirements that 7th was always levying upon the fighter wings for combat experienced people. Once in position, the LC was assigned to tally and post USAF sorties, weapon expend­itures, and BDA for the entire air war being fought over North Vietnam, South Vietnam, and Laos.

  About 390 words (pica type) written on the back of the LC's upcoming OER were required to support his hoped-for outstanding rating in the right-hand blocks that might lead to promotion. These just­i­fying words as required by AFM 36-10 under the heading FACTS AND SPECIFIC ACHIEVEMENTS must identify exactly how advanced were the ratee's strategic and tactical thinking.

  Since arranging what color grease pencil to display today's data doesn't neces­sarily ensure promotion to full colonel (lieu­tenant colonels are expected to know what color to use), the LC had made up the RRP which got sold to the Director of Operations for 7th Air Force by the LC's boss--who had every intention of claiming credit were it to work out successfully.

  Unaware of the exact behind-the-scenes cabal, but suspecting something of the sort because 7th was always sending down idiot plans and bean-counting requirements, Friedlander pressed on with his task at hand.

  "Gentlemen," he said, "this concludes my portion of the briefing. I introduce to you Lieutenant Colonel Serge Demski, commander of the 531st, who will continue the briefing from the squadron's eye view."

  Demski wasted no time introducing Court Bannister as the most knowledgeable because he had both coordinated air support from the Ramrod command post and had flown strike missions.

  Bannister stood and added minor details to Friedlander's report. He praised Monaghan's effectiveness, though wounded, in the CP. Steering clear of the initial poor performance of the 195th Light Infantry Brigade, Bannister complimented their helicopter crewmen as being both skillful and courageous.

  Lochert and Myers nodded agreement.

  Monaghan was about to deliver a thousand well chosen words about what he thought of the abilities of the 195th Light Infantry Brigade when, upon reflection, he decided this was neither the time nor place for a Sergeant First Class to voice his opinions on a subject already well known and appreciated. A grin crossed his face as he congratulated himself on what he thought was a mature and responsible decision. Bannister noticed the grin and nodded.

  "The main problem we had was communications," Bannister said in conclusion of his briefing. That was the last Bannister could say on the subject as MACV J-3 Ops turned to Colonel Friedlander.

  "Your FACs, your AC-47 Spooky gunships and your A-1 aircraft have FM radios so they can talk to the ground commanders. When will your fighters get FM?"

  "Probably never, Sir," the Air Force colonel said to the Army general. "The reason being our fighters are designed and con­structed primarily for air-to-air work and secondarily for air-to-ground work. Further, the whole world wide communi­cation system is geared to UHF operation. Ground Control Intercept sites, radar sites, control towers, and foreign air forces have all chosen UHF for its range and clarity of voice. Fox Mike, as you know well, Sir, is limited in range and power since it's in the lower frequencies as opposed to UHF, and is more subject to atmospheric disturbances." Friedlander was sure MACV J-2 Ops knew that FM, Frequency Modulation, was in the 30.00 to 75.00 megacycle range while UHF, Ultra High Frequency, was in the 225.00 to 399.90 megacycle range so he didn't mention the frequency differential. He continued.

  "Close air support is merely one facet of the air-to-ground mission. In addition to close air support, there is direct air support and interdiction, neither of which require contact with ground troops because ground troops are not present. Since close air support is in response to the immediate needs of troops in contact with the enemy, it is the only mission requiring FM radio. Here in Vietnam the USAF flies over 400
sorties per day in support of ground troops. I'd say that, USAF-wide, taking into account SAC, recce, air lift, and training, the close air support mission only accounts for about fifteen or twenty percent of all sorties flown.

  "That percentage, gentlemen," Friedlander waved his smoldering cigar, "is thought by the powers that be at TAC headquarters and in the Pentagon to not be enough justi­fication for the added weight, cockpit volume needed, and expense, to mount Fox Mike in our fighters. Meanwhile, we use an airborne forward air controller, the FAC. He not only bridges the communications gap between the ground troops and the strike pilot, but he also knows the tactical area of responsi­bility like the back of his hand and flies low and slow enough to spot any changes. Strike pilots, who must go anywhere in Vietnam or Laos, will never get that intimate and current knowledge. I have heard, though, that we are buying some Navy Corsair IIs, that we will call the A-7, which will be a dedicated air-to-ground bird that will probably carry Fox Mike." Friedlander took a drag on his cigar. "I also understand we will be getting the bigger and faster 0-2s and 0V-10 twin engine aircraft for our FACs to fly."

  "I suppose I understand," MACV J-3 Ops said, "except for our Tactical Air Control Parties and their special UHF-equipped Mk-151 jeeps, I know we in the Army sure as hell aren't going to hump the heavy equipment it takes to transmit and receive on UHF. And you can't operate wide area UHF on battery like you can Fox Mike. What it boils down to, you can't run around the boondocks with a UHF on your back like you can with the Prick 25 Fox Mike."

  Thus concluded the discussion that higher ranking men had been fighting for years in the Pentagon. What MACV J-3 Ops had politely refrained from stating in mixed company was that, radio communications aside, the United States Army really wanted to control all air below 10,000 feet. Not only control, but own all the air below that altitude to include close air support, transports for aerial resupply--be it by landing or by parachute--and reconnaissance. Ever since the USAF became a separate service in September 1947, the Army had wanted to take back the missions the Army Air Force had performed below 10,000 feet. Let the USAF keep the air superiority mission and the strategic bombing mission and high altitude reconnaissance mission, the Army ground commander wanted immediate and complete control over the air power that supported his troops.

  By creeping up to the one method of aerial transpor­tation the USAF hadn't really considered as a gun platform, the Army had developed a rotary wing contingent that was successful beyond their wildest dreams. They developed and put into service over 5,000 helicopters performing airborne assault, troop carry, med-evac, command and control, recce, and heavy lift operations, all below 10,000 feet. Nearly 100 percent of the pilots were 19- and 20-year-old warrant officers who flew in the best scarf-in-the-breeze tradition. These Army helicopters carried UHF, and VHF (a radio lower in frequency and limited in use), in addition to their FM radios, and hence had no difficulty talking with air or ground forces.

  If the truth be known about the chicanery of the Army-Air Force squabble over who owned what airplanes of what weight in the fixed-wing category, it would reveal the United States Army had bought a bunch of Caribous, a Canadian-made twin-engine de Havilland STOL (short takeoff and landing) aircraft they first titled the AC-1B and, later, the CV-2B. They said they needed the high-wing light transport in Vietnam for small unit resupply.

  The Caribou brouhaha had come to a head earlier when the Army was forced to request USAF tactical airlift support in the form of C-123 and C-130 transports when their Caribous couldn't resupply the airmobile troops in the Ia Drang valley fast enough to sustain their drive. A year and a half later, the Chief of the Air Force and the Chief of the Army, Generals McConnell and Johnson respectively, negotiated an agreement whereby the USAF, responsible for airlift, would take over the Caribous. They did, and promptly redesignated them as the C-7A. The bird still supported Special Forces camps and remote outposts as part of the centralized USAF airlift system set up by MAC (Military Airlift Command) in Vietnam.

  The USAF was deeply embarrassed during their first weeks of operating the Caribou. They had so many hard landings with heavy loads on short fields, they had to ask the Army to send along their warrant officer pilots with the USAF officers to re-train them how to really fly the Caribou. Conversely, the Army was deeply embarrassed when the USAF showed how poorly the Caribous had been maintained.

  MACV J-2 Intel cocked an eyebrow at USAF Colonel Friedlander. "I understand your FAC was not a pilot," he said.

  "You understand incorrectly," MACV J-3 Ops interjected. "The FAC was a highly experienced pilot who was badly wounded. He later died. His non-rated observer in the back seat, a lieutenant named Parker, I believe, took over, and put in the air strikes that affected the rescue of our men. I'm recommending him for the Air Force Cross which, if you did not know, is identical in stature to your Distinguished Service Cross," MACV J-3 Ops concluded, with a grim-faced nod at J-2 Intel.

  It wasn't that MACV J-2 Intelligence was dense or anti-hero. Not at all. He was, in fact, a brigadier who had served with distinction in the later part of WWII and Korea in leg outfits, then gravitated to Intelligence. Ever since he had been removed from the grime and gore of combat, he had become a bit pedantic. Though not exactly classified as a bean counter, his body count figures were in great demand by the SecDef in Washington because they represented quantifiable progress that could be posted and admired. Since the war in Vietnam was not fought to push anybody any place or to hold captured terrain, charts of statistics had come to replace the battle maps of WWII which easily depicted front lines charging ever deeper into enemy territory.

  MACV J-2 Intel and MACV J-3 Ops were not enemies, as it might appear. On the contrary, the two general officers frequently shared bottles of Vat 69 Scotch together, each lecturing the other about duties and responsibilities. Public display notwithstanding, it was an amiable relationship. Besides, they were West Point classmates.

  Jibes at his fellow staff officer aside, MACV J-3 Operations was not a sarcastic man who enjoyed pillorying his peers. Rather, he was a gentle man, given to jumping out of airplanes, who had earned a DSC at Pusan in Korea.

  He knew there wasn't much beyond the bits of ribbon and metal to reward young men for risking their lives in ungodly conditions. He knew his recommendation for a decoration, second only to the Medal of Honor for an Air Force man, would go a long way to keep the joint service cooperation skids greased. That Parker had earned the right to be considered for the Air Force Cross was unquestioned, but the very fact an Army man put forth the recommendation was a gesture sure to be duly noted with good feeling by 7th Air Force.

  Hopefully, this good feeling between the air and ground forces would trickle down to field level, thus leading to even greater efforts by the Air Force to come to the aid of the United States Army in its hour of need for close air support. Colonel Leonard Norman, following the news of Parker's imminent award recommendation with avid attention, said he appreciated the general's interest in the lieutenant. He did not thank the general as one does not thank a higher ranking officer for any award or superior efficiency report because that implies the ranking officer is giving the award or efficiency report to the individual who has, in fact, earned it. Privately, on a personal basis, it would not be out of line for Norman, as Parker's boss, to thank the general for his thoughtfulness and efforts to secure the award.

  When Norman had seen his courier lieutenant earlier, he had been struck at how melancholy and aged Parker had become in such a short period of time. He had told Doc Russell of his plan to leave young Parker on detached duty at Bien Hoa for a few days where he would be in the company of the men he had come to know so well to see if he might come around.

  MACV J-3 Ops turned to Bannister. "Although you ran Ramrod Control and you flew as a strike pilot, you did not give us your views in your briefing as to the efficiency of this new system. Give us your opinion, please," the Brigadier commanded.

  Bannister, already standing at
the briefing board, cocked his head and made a swallowing gesture. Looking straight at the Army general he said, "Sir, in perspective of the overall picture of supplying close air support for the Army throughout South Vietnam, I do not think this method is efficient for two main reasons."

  The briefing room became deathly quiet. Lochert, Myers, and Monaghan looked amused. An afterburner boomed in the distance as an F-100 took off from the far runway. The general nodded, his face expressionless. "Continue," he said.

  "First off," Bannister said, "you'll note we at Ramrod Control made a local decision to take the air dedicated to the Mike Force team problem and apply it to the Task Force Rover problem. Granted, the Rover convoy was nearby and even fighting the 273rd VC Regiment which was attacking the Mike Force, but those airplanes did not belong to Task Force Rover. They belonged, were dedicated to, the Mike Force.

  "Suppose the armor had run into trouble farther away, too far for us to risk sending the Mike Force F-100s. Other USAF assets would then have had to take their place which, in turn, might have depleted someone else down the line. My point here is, we knew of the Rover problem because our FAC told us. But, in our small world, we would not have known of Rover had he been 30 klicks farther away talking to another FAC.

  "That would have resulted in our Alert birds remaining on the ground. But someone looking at the big picture would see problems like that, and direct what birds go where and when, which, of course, is what the entire Tactical Air Control System already does."

  "And your second point?" the general asked.

  "Sir, my second point is a continuation of the first. The response time saved by our dedicated birds was not much different from what it would have been using our normal Alert birds. And, of course, diversion of tactical aircraft en route to lesser targets in the immediate target area would provide air support even faster. In conclusion, Sir, I don't think the system of tying up dedicated aircraft is efficient, although this particular battle went well." Bannister stopped talking. Derham caught his eye with a see-you-at-the-hanging grin.

  "Very interesting Captain, ah," MACV J-3 Ops peered at Bannister's nametag, "Captain Bannister. I too think the, as you call it, the ‘dedicated bird’ method used to support the effort in War Zone Charley went well indeed," he said, "but before I left MACV headquarters, the Deputy of Operations, 7th Air Force, asked me if the fast response for emergency ground situations truly required dedicated Alert aircraft. He wanted me to assess if the so-called Rapid Response Plan was justified or could we live with the existing request net and current method of scrambling air support from ground alert status."

  The assemblage looked at the general with some interest. This early evaluation of RRP was news to them. USAF Colonel Friedlander, with a glance at Bannister, looked wryly amused.

  "The existing request net, as you all know," the general swept them with a wave of his hand, "is from a ground unit to the Corps Direct Air Support Center through the Tactical Air Control Center to 7th for allocation of USAF aircraft for preplanned missions, divert missions, or air­craft scrambled from alert status. I've checked the response times versus the urgency of the requirements.

  "Further, I've checked the nature of the urgency of two dozen ground troop tactical emergencies. My conclusion is that it would be difficult enough to rank order in priority any given ground troop emergency over any other at the same time. Also, if a third or fourth cropped up of an even more urgent nature, we could conceivably run out of local sector air because it is tied up on the ground waiting to be used for lesser prior­ities. What we would have is a double or even triple aircraft alert system that would not make efficient use of existing resources."

  MACV J-3 Ops stood up, causing the others to spring to their feet. "Therefore," he said, "I am telling Director of Operations, 7th Air Force that, as well as this situation has concluded, we do not wish to continue this dedicated RRP alert business any longer. Most assuredly, however, the pilots must continue to familiarize themselves by direct ground observation the areas and Special Forces camps that may go into Flaming Arrow emergency."

  The general looked at Friedlander and shook his hand.

  "Superb job," he said and moved to do the same down the line with Demski and Derham. Generals do not normally do this at a briefing, but MACV J-3 Ops knew well the value of keeping the Air Force happy and appreciated. As he shook Bannister's hand he said, "Young man, whenever you want a job as an ALO (Air Liaison Officer) with one of my units, let me know." Bannister grinned and thanked the general knowing full well he would never take the good general up on his offer. An ALO slot with an Army unit was not a flying job.

  The high-powered MACV entourage departed the briefing room, boarded helicopters for Tan Son Nhut, and were swept away from the USAF officers and Special Forces men who saw them off from the flight line ramp. Once airborne, MACV J-3 Ops turned to USAF Colonel Norman and asked, "Was that captain really Silk Screen Sam Bannister's kid?"

  Norman assured him he was.

  "Amazing," said the general, "for a Hollywood type he seems to be a real warrior."

 

  Back on the ramp, before Lochert and Myers left in Monaghan's jeep, they told Bannister they'd come over to the Bien Hoa O’ Club that night around 9 PM to hunt up Toby Parker. They had something to give him that might raise his spirits.

  After they drove away, Colonel Friedlander offered Bannister a ride to the squadron. He barely had time to tell Bannister he appreciated his candor about the dedicated bird situation when a voice from the radio in his command jeep said a MAC airliner was on final approach with an engine out.