The cool night air reminded him of the nights he spent in Tennessee as a child. He smiled at the memory and checked his weapon. It was loaded and ready.
Lucky was sitting in the lead jeep when the alarm sounded. Quickly, he drove it in through the fence. He tried not to think about his young wife and baby daughter waiting for him back home. Once inside the fence, he spread the jeeps out and waited.
He backed up along the fence. Something stirred to his right. He held his flashlight alongside his machine gun and swept it in the direction of the movement. He saw a flash out of the corner of his eye and felt an impact in his side. The force was so strong, it twisted him around and lifted him from his feet. He swung his machine gun in the direction of the blow and fired as he hit the ground.
The guard to his right took the full blast of his machine gun and dropped. He could not remember hearing the shot but knew instinctively that he was hit and probably badly hurt. He stood up and looked around. The guard must have heard the alarm and come to find out what was happening.
Shots were being fired in every direction, and he needed to get a sense of what was happening. From out side the fence, more headlights appeared from around the curve. He staggered toward the jeep with the big mounted machine gun just as the gun’s operator opened up on the vehicles with a long burst. He could hear the pings from ricocheting bullets as well as the dull thuds from direct impacts.
The first vehicle, which turned out to be a truck, stopped and started unloading as the second truck proceeded, all the while returning fire. The young Special Forces sergeant took a direct blast to his shoulder and was knocked backward, landing at Lucky’s feet. He was alive, but his shoulder was obviously broken. Lucky stood there for a moment looking around. All of his other men were scattered trying to provide cover for the fuel truck as it approached the Concorde. He knew that everything now depended on him.
With the warmth and smell of fresh blood on his left side, he pulled himself up onto the jeep and grasped the handles of the machine gun. Fortunately, the moon was bright, and he could see the movement of the soldiers as they rushed through the fence. The only drawback, of course, was that he, too, stood out as a wide open target. He realized that, with the jeep turned in the direction it was, he had no hope of protection. He stood completely exposed to their gunfire.
He pulled the trigger and held it down. The blast from the large gun exploded in front of him with a deafening roar. The flash made him night blind, and only the flashes from their rifles helped him identify their positions. He continued firing until another impact in his upper left chest sent him flying backwards onto the hood of the jeep.
Bright flashes and colors filled Lucky’s vision as he lay on the hood of the jeep looking around. The night was coming into focus again, and he caught the first glimpse of his men rushing toward him.
He was injured badly but knew that it was up to him to stall for time. He pulled himself to his feet and knelt beside the machine gun. With his right hand, he reached up and pointed the gun in the direction of the next wave of approaching soldiers. He could see some of them advancing through the fence. He pulled the trigger and held it down as he swung the machine gun to the right and left.
The large caliber bullets tore into the approaching enemy soldiers with viciousness. Arms and heads were sliced from their bodies and the limbs of the nearby brush were also severed. Another bullet hit Lucky’s left arm, shattering the bone. Another impacted his right knee. The pain was incomprehensible as he hung on to the machine and continued to fire.
He lost all track of time but noticed that the machine gun had stopped firing. He was again beginning to see in front of him. Movement had stopped. The soldiers must have retreated to reorganize, but he was in bad shape and knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Gentle hands lifted him from his crouching position and pulled him to the cool earth. Around him, he could see his men gathering with Wright.
Lucky could feel his life draining away, and he knew he would never live to see the morning, so he said the only thing that made sense. “Listen, Captain, I think I’ll be staying here. Give me my weapon and some grenades, and I’ll see if I can stall them for awhile.”
Wright was unprepared to make that decision. He shook his head and struggled to swallow. “No, Lucky, we can’t leave you here.”
“You’ll never get away if you don’t, Captain. You’ll lead them right back to the Concorde, and then you’ll never get away.”
Wright knew Lucky was right but struggled to make the decision.
Lucky looked at his men. “Go! You know what you have to do.”
One of his men handed him a rifle, and another gave him two grenades. Then, silently, they boarded the remaining jeep and drove off toward the Concorde.
Lucky pulled the pin on the first grenade and laid still. Within moments, the trucks pulled in through the fence to follow after the jeeps. He waited for the first truck to pull up alongside him, then tossed the grenade in front of the truck. He barely had the strength to toss it, but fortunately the truck was close enough that his effort placed the grenade directly under the truck when it exploded. The truck burst into flames and tipped over.
The second truck turned wide to miss the burning truck, putting its distance much farther away. He used the last of his strength to roll over and lift himself to one knee. He pulled the pin and threw the grenade in the direction of the truck. A soldier on the back of the truck saw him and fired his machine gun, hitting him in the chest with a half dozen rounds. He fell over backward as the grenade exploded near the truck’s front wheel. It wasn’t under the truck, but it was near enough to blow the wheel off and cause the front to dig into the ground. The truck was now useless.
Lucky smiled as he gasped to breathe. He had stopped their pursuit! But both his lungs had been torn up from the shot and were filling with blood. He would be dead shortly. He tried to focus on his wife and little girl. He loved them with all his heart and hoped somehow he could will that knowledge to them. He had loved them in life, and now he would love them with his dying breath...
Wright wiped the tears from his eyes as he heard the second grenade explode in the darkness behind him. Lucky gave his life, he thought to himself, so that we could be free.
He couldn’t help but contemplate the fact that here again was a group of Green Berets in Vietnam. After all, that’s how the U.S. got involved in the Vietnam War in the first place. Now thirty years later, they were back.
Rob noticed the headlights emerging from between two hangers. They were heading his way. Almost immediately, at the other end of the airport, he could see three more vehicles turn onto the runway and speed toward him. He looked at his watch. It was now 5:16 AM. Two groups of vehicles were converging on his position, and at least one of them had to be Vietnamese soldiers.
As the groups came closer, he could tell that the group coming from the hanger area contained heavy armored fighting vehicles. The group coming from the right consisted of two, perhaps three, jeeps packed with soldiers. Ahead of him on the runway, Hawk sat in a jeep with his hands on the machine gun. He looked back as if waiting for instructions about what to do. No one knew whether either group was their friends.
He’s a sitting duck! Rob thought.
Hawk didn’t have to wait very long because the lead armored vehicle opened fire at his jeep. He immediately returned fire. The soldiers in the approaching jeeps were shooting at the armored vehicles. Those must be our guys, Rob thought. But their small arms fire wouldn’t be able to damage the heavy armor on the enemy vehicles.
Rob throttled up the engines. Soon the big turbines were whining as the airplane moved forward slowly. He aligned the Concorde so it pointed directly at the armored vehicles. But when the armored vehicles saw the Concorde move, they began firing at it. He could hear bullets pinging against the wing and fuselage as it came into perfect alignment with the armored vehicles.
He gritted his teeth as he reached for the landing light switch. Was the alignme
nt of the cannons high enough to do any good? There was only one way to find out. He flipped on the front landing lights. The airplane shook violently for a few seconds, then stopped. The cannon pods were empty!
He watched the tracer rounds find their targets on the armored vehicles and their armor peel away as though made of paper. The cannon rounds tore into two of the vehicle structures, severing the tops of their metal bodies. The two trucks following the armored vehicles turned off and headed away. He continued to roll the Concorde forward as the soldiers ran toward him and climbed aboard.
Wright helped the last soldier climb into the cabin, then jumped up and caught Rock’s hand. Rock seemed to pull him up almost effortlessly. As Wright stepped into the cabin and closed the door, something caught his eye as it passed to the right of the aircraft over the nearby hills. It was a tiny glowing dot traveling at a tremendous speed. It could be nothing less than a fighter, and the glowing spot had to be a jet engine! Wright slammed the door and latched it, then headed forward into the pilot’s cabin.
As he entered the cabin, Logan and Rob turned to see him. “Did you see it?”
“We saw it,” Logan answered, “and you can be sure they know where we are.”
“Where’s Lucky?” Rob asked.
“Lucky bought it.”
Rob turn to look at Wright, disbelieving. He remained quiet for a moment, trying not to think about Lucky or ask what had happened. He knew he had to concentrate on that fighter out there. But he knew there was little chance for their escape. Apparently, Logan had come to the same conclusion because he had started an SOS call on the radio.
The two enemy trucks were turning around to attack again. At the speed the Concorde was going, they wouldn’t be able to turn and shoot easily. Rob pushed the throttles all the way forward, and the airplane leaped ahead. There was no doubt that for the next few seconds, they would be completely vulnerable to ground fire.
He looked out his window in the direction of the truck as they rushed past. Enemy soldiers were unloading to try to get some shots off. He pushed harder on the throttle in an effort to get more speed even though it was already as far forward as it would go. The takeoff time that could be measured in seconds seemed like minutes as he held his breath. The roar of the big jet engines drowned out the sound of any shots being fired. Gradually, the nose lifted and then the wheels left the ground. They were airborne!
Everyone was now looking out the window for enemy aircraft.
“What happened to Lucky?”
Suddenly, they were shoved back into their seats by the Concorde’s sudden acceleration.
Wright shook his head and lowered his eyes. “He did us good. We could’ve lost more, but he saw to it that no one else died.”
Rob understood. Lucky was a hero. He had died for them.
Rock was looking out the windows on the left side of the cabin. “Aircraft at one o’clock! It’s bearing down on us... No, it’s holding back. It seems to be matching our speed.”
Rob glanced back. “It’s pulling in? Why?”
Logan tapped Rob’s arm and pointed down. Below them, the lights of the city were clearly visible.
“You’re right! They won’t shoot us down over the city. They’ll wait for us to get over the ocean.”
Wright pushed himself forward and knelt between the pilot seats. “We can shoot them with the gun pods, right?”
Rob shook his head. “Afraid not. We’re all out of rounds. We either fly out of here or not at all.”
Wright looked out the front windshield and saw the coastline approaching in the dim light. “You can’t fly out there! We’ll be shot down!”
Rob looked at him patiently. “What do you suggest? If we fly in circles, there’ll be more and more of those fighters joining him. Eventually we’ll run out of fuel, and then we’ll drop like a rock right out of the sky. We have to make a run for it.”
“Colonel, we’ll never make it, and you know it!”
Rob said nothing as he stared out the window. He knew Wright was correct. “I’m open to suggestions.”
Wright looked moved to the window next to Rock and looked out at the MIG. “How far back do you make it to be?”
Rock was still observing the aircraft. “I’d say six hundred yards.”
“That would be a hard shot at this distance.”
“Impossible,” Rock corrected him. “A shot fired at this range would never be able to penetrate the aircraft’s canopy or front armor. The best place to be with our light weapons is just underneath it. The thin metal skin could easily be penetrated and the pilot killed. But he’s not likely to fly up over the top of us and let us get a shot. He’s smart! He knows we fired on armored vehicles down there, so he’s just going to hold back until we’re away from the city. Then he’ll take us out.”
Wright stood and stepped back to the rear of the cabin. He had an idea. “Colonel, what do you intend to do?”
Rob glanced around. “I guess we’ll make a run and hope for the best.”
Wright was quiet for a moment as he bit his bottom lip. “Sir, I have an idea. I need you to lower the landing gear and flaps. I need you to fly as slowly as possible.”
“Slowly? This is a supersonic aircraft. Slow for it is a hundred fifty miles an hour. What do you have in mind?”
He looked nervous as he placed a new clip into his automatic weapon. “Just trust me for once. If I’m right, it’ll draw him in some.” He looked at Rock. “I need your weapon, friend.”
Rock clicked a new clip into his weapon and handed it to Wright, while Rob lowered the flaps and landing gear, gradually slowing the aircraft.
Wright watched the window as the MIG pulled in slightly closer. It was still out of rifle-range but close enough for what he needed to do. “What’s our airspeed?”
“About one-five-one, and that’s as slow as she’ll go. What are you up to?”
“I’ll need everyone to secure their seatbelts. I’m going to de-pressurize the cabin.”
“Captain, it’s out of range...”
“I know, sir. I know. Just trust me on this one.” He stood to his feet and swung both weapons over his shoulders, saying to Rock, “I’m going to miss you, old friend.”
Rock looked confused as he watched Wright get up to stand beside the outer door. Wright turned toward him. “Close it behind me.” Before either of them could answer or comprehend what he meant, Wright opened the outer cabin door and leaped out.
Wright barely missed the sweep of the Concord’s wing and the huge turbofan engines as he plunged downward. He quickly rolled over onto his back and pointed both weapons skyward. His parachute training had helped him develop the skills he needed to position himself properly. He could feel the heat of the turbofan engines as he drifted away from the Concorde, and within seconds, he could see the MIG fighter passing over him.
Holding an automatic weapon in each hand, he fired them straight up and watched the tracer rounds impact the bottom of the aircraft. Sixty rounds from the two weapons discharged in less than three seconds. Of them, twelve penetrated the MIG: four impacted the air frame, three struck the instrument panel, two pierced the floor of the cockpit and impacted into the overhead canopy, and three pierced the pilot’s chest.
As Wright continued to fall, the MIG rolled over twice before slamming into the side of a nearby hill. He looked back at the Concorde, now a distant glow in the sky, and signaled a silent thumbs up as he slammed into the thick brush below.
Rock pushed the door shut, latched it, then looked out the window. The burning remains of the MIG were clearly visible below them, and the dim image of Wright’s falling body disappeared into the brush below. He slammed his fist onto the cabin wall, as giant tears from the giant man rolled down his face.
“He gone! He’s gone!” Rock groaned at the loss of his friend. He had lost so many of his friends on this mission. Only he and three others of the original group had survived so far.
Rob sat motionless in the seat as the reality of
Wright’s sacrifice set in. He had done what no one else had the courage to do. It was the only thing that could be done. It was their only way out.
He tried to concentrate on the job he needed to do. But inwardly he struggled with so many questions. How many more would have to die? How many more sacrifices would have to be made? Was what they had done really worth the lives it cost? He pulled up the landing gear and adjusted the flaps, then pushed the throttles forward and watched through blurry vision as the airspeed indicator slowly rose. He wiped his eyes and tried to block out Rock’s sobs. “Wright did what had to be done.” Rob’s voice cracked. “What he had to do...”
“I could’ve! I would’ve! I just didn’t know!”
“That’s why he didn’t tell you.” Rob understood now. “That’s why he didn’t tell us what he was going to do. He knew we’d never let him.”
Ron Schwartz - The Griffins Heart.txt Page 36