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vinhtruong
10-23-2010, 08:19 PM
In the year 2.004, U S Media, the radio had announced the recovery of the full crewmembers-remains of The Vietnamese Air force: Lieutenant Long, Lt Tung, and Master Sergeant Lanh. These were all my dear comrades who’d been listed as Missing- In-Action in 1966; the numbers matched up, a total of Three Queen Bees. Yet they would be making that final journey in flag-draped coffins, carried by solemn honors guard of our brothers in arms. No, it wouldn’t be easy at all. They were buried with military honors at Arlington-Cemetery. Yet as I listened to that song, I mourned our lost comrades who would help me remember the lightest moments of the darkest hours, and details of each man’s life that I could hold in my memories.
I nodded and thanked them silently. Now my last salute to theirs final resting place in a clearing surrounded by maple and pine trees.
Alas! We never seem to learn from our forgiveness for what they had done. “Sacrifices often are unappreciated by those who benefit from them”
I was angry about having sacrificed my young to the Wise-Men’s stratagem (American-First) for many years; my war flying experience still remained like a huge undigested lump in the back of my mind. I did not know what to do with it, when someone asked it with my own know-how-concept. If the real power from US administration had kept their promises, Southern Vietnamese might now be enjoying prosperity and democracy similar to what has developed in South Korea, Taiwan, and Thailand. Even now I became a green-fresh US citizen, but still very clear to me that I am not among the self-loathing Americans who notice people in other countries looking to us for leadership and see nothing but neocolonialism and imperialism; I accept the premise that the United States has a legitimate, even inescapable, role to play in the world today.)
Aerial photos on HCM Trail by Helicopter H.34 on treetop snapshot:
Vietnam is a vastly diverse land. In the South a vast flooded Mekong Delta, broad coastal plains, thick mangrove swamp, tangled jungles, and it has steep mountains chain from North to South; so every year having flood. The jungle was too dense for large operations, but pretty good suitable hidden place for our SOG reconnaissance teams and the enemy too. You had to literally hack your way through vines and thick foliage, moving very slowly, mostly in small units like squad, team-sized, platoon-sized, may be company-sized patrols. Fighting in triple-canopy rain forest teaches you how to fight in triple-canopy rain forest. Fighting in mountains teaches you how to fight in mountains. And you should learn a lot simply shooting and getting shot at a lot, and working closely with others like team-work on a combat mission. But there isn’t a great deal of carryover from any of that one to the other. The biggest lesson, in fact, is learning how to be open to surprising new experiences a then turning that openness into resourceful and creative ways of dealing with the challenges you face.
Recon-team was to interdict the North Vietnamese troops coming down the HCM Trail through Laos and Cambodia and infiltrating through the mountain and rugged terrain of the jungles into the populated regions near the coast. Recon-team did actually encounter large numbers of the enemy in the jungle, but they reported to forward operational base the detail information for bombardment, avoiding in fight contact, except for self-defense. Their mission was to search for indications of them, their infiltration routes, or base camps or other places they might be using as sanctuaries; and they frequently found unoccupied enemy positions, often clever bunkers tunneled under thick bamboo clumps, providing them with a natural cover so why in battle of Ap-Bac 1963 the enemy had a safe cover in the lest casualty.
At Khe-Sanh, today June 14, two helicopters H.34 assigned to U.S Project-Delta Special Force, unmarked camouflage by color match with mountainous wild-leaves. The weather is OK for this season just light fog will clear very soon. The morning breeze shed out from stone mountain bringing enough cool; surrounding thick foliages were standstill, now and then the fresh sea-wind floating to mainland carried some warmer humidity, few cotton cumulus drifting to west hanging on the crest of mountain; higher some cirrus stay-unmoved in the clear blue-sky demonstrated the weather today should be very good for our aerial photos. We will to compete with higher altitude photos of Woodo R.F.101 and U.2 in contrast to treetop helicopter H.34.
With this weather, I feel convinced that might God formed for us appeasing our anxiety.
Yes, we plunged over ‘razing-mode-flight’ along HCM Trail and a foremost is snap-shot over Group 559, forward operational base headquarter [Oscar Eight]. In the mission clearance order recommended that we must take picture from west DMZ to the South at Kham Duc, and Ben Het. But I can’t do it, in-fact the very hot spot like Oscar-Eight, I must go this first and the rest later, I don’t want the enemy being ready for welcome us with every kind of anti-aircraft artilleries!
About 40 kilometers northwest of South Vietnam is the Ashau-valley, Oscar Eight encompassed the Highway 922 turnoff from Highway 92. More USAF planes were downed at that road junction than any place in Laos which isn’t surprising since burrowed deep into the hills of Oscar Eight, defended by belts of antiaircraft guns, was North Vietnamese General Vo Bam’ 559 Transportation Group’s forward headquarter. This is the HCM Trail’s Control Center.
We frequently inserted recon-team over-there, refocused on its operations across the border and tapered off in country missions except in the Ashau-valley which remained SOG haunt, situated beyond a barrier of imposing mountains that masked it from coastal enclaves 60 kilometers away at Phu-Bai and Da-Nang. The Ashau-valley stretched 35 kilometers northwest to southeast ending at Atep high land on the Laotian border. 3 kilometers wide in places, the Ashau bottom was grassy, flat and so open it was eerie; flying overhead you could feel eyes following you. Two abandoned airfields and three ghost camps haunted the valley floor, while its major road highway 548 connected with Laotian highway 922 from adjacent Laotian base areas the North Vietnamese built a network of 40 high-speed trails into the valley. Northern Ashau’ Tam-Boi mountain contained immense chambers hewn from solid rock and fitted with heavy iron door, so well constructed that they withstood B.52 strikes.
The plan was to insert at dusk so the enemy would have no daylight left to dispatch a reaction force or trackers, giving recon-team a full night’s head start. If they stumbled into enemy on the LZ, my courage Queen-Bee pilots would swoop in to extract them while the Huey gun-ships fired mini-guns and explosive rockets for air closed support.
In March, 1966 at dusk, when Queen Bee inserted at very hot LZ right in enemy’s heartland. Immediately alerted emergency mission, our Queen Bee plunged in the shower of bullets AK47, picking-up Sergeant Brown and Huston, another Queen Bee dropped rope-ladder due to no space for LZ, picking-up Alan Boyer meanwhile under shower-bullets of AK47, Boyer got hit and fall. Dead or alive, he was in enemy hands.
In the middle, 1966, one recon team was encountered a concentrated NVA ambushed. One hour fighting, later, team tried to hide to a hill crest, where there were some rock-stones easy to defend and preferred to Queen Bee pilots to put one landing-gear for picking them up. Apparently, few of them were wounded they would suicide by frustrated captured in the daylight. At night U.S pilots would gave-up. Lieutenant Hung, nickname “mustache”, by himself, an alone Queen-Bee, no copilot, no crew-chief, no door gun, in the dark of night, but just the very himself inserted them in, his conscience pricks him and his knew-how where-about a team located spot. He landed one gear on a hill crest slope picking-up all team members in the red glaring light of from every individual bullets gun, from everywhere concentrated to spot-light LZ. At last, an unmarked H.34 landing on operational home base with 88 holes of AK.47- “unbelievable”
Say Major Scotty Crerar: “neither impossible ground fire nor unflyable-weather stopped Queen-Bee pilots…They were absolutely fearless!”
“…An English-speaking North Vietnamese officer told Glenn to watch carefully, then they cut Paul Miguez’s belly open, and his intestines fell to the ground. The officer took a flame-thrower from one of his men, stuck the nozzle in Miguez’s stomach and literally melted him alive, burning him horribly while the young specialist four watched. The NVA officer told him to tell his Green-Beret friends that this is what waited for them in Route 559 [Ho Chi Minh Trail] along corridor Laotian/ Vietnam.
A number of recon-men doubted the story, thinking perhaps the One-Two had hallucinated; but they knew never to discount anything. A visiting SOG lieutenant colonel from Danang badgered the traumatized youth, even calling him coward. Then he turned his bile on Zabitosky, demanding to know why he hadn’t landed, and when he was told the Huey had been shot full of holes, he called Zabitosky a coward, too, why the Queen-Bee fearless, carried it out?.
“OK, Colonel,” Zabitosky said “ tomorrow morning, I’m going back in there with nothing but three Americans and three Yards, some body bags and ammunition. And if you would like your first tour of Laos, seeing as you have not been to Laos, I want you on the lead ship with me.”
The Colonel went along but tried to scrub the insert when they took ground fire; Zabitosky already had talked with the pilot, who disregarded the colonel’s pleas. After all, Zabitosky was the operation commander, not the colonel. The colonel did not get off the helicopter with the recon team.
But miraculously, another circle Queen-Bee spotted the missing One-One, Pilton, and extracted him. Meanwhile, Zabitoslky found the team’s back trail, followed it 600 yards to a hill crest, looked over and could see gear strew where the team had been overrun. A little farther on he found black streaks where a flamethrower had scorched the ground and trees, then just ahead something was smoldering., It turned his stomach. The hideous, sadistic murder of an unarmed man surprised Zabitosky, who explained, “That was the first time I ever knew the NVA to do anything like that.” Several Montagnards lay there, too, burned to death. It was another dangerous day before Zabitosky got Miguez’s body out; enemy pressure was so great he had to abandon the Yard bodies.
Chief SOG personally relieved the ‘bellicose colonel’. Paul Miguez, who displayed incredible courage while his captors burned him alive, was posthumously awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.
SOG recon team saw the Miguez incident as proof of what lay in store for them if captured alive; such inhumanity was borne out again and again, with particular confirmation coming from the June 1967 Hatchet Force raid in target Oscar-Eight [ forward operational Base 559 Group].
And another story like below:
“….Lieutenant Jerson was carried on; Howard was so drained that he was almost hallucinating. He laid there, silent, holding Jerson and puffing a cigarette a door gunner had given him. One pilot leaned back to give him a reassuring pat, but in his mind Howard kept seeing bodies falling, left behind, bodies of gallant Montagnards that he’d tried so hard to bring out. Almost out of his mind, Howard thought about killing the pilot though he knew that was not right and he didn’t have a weapon. Then, mercifully, he passed out.
He awoke briefly in a field hospital to find his hands bandaged, his face covered with ointment, and learned Lieutenant Jim Jerson had died. But nobody could tell Jerson’s family or Robert Scherdin’s family that good men had not given their all for them.
The recon company commander, Captain Ed Lesesne wrote Howard up for the Medal of Honor for the third time. There would be no downgrading, no minimizing his role to make a superior sound braver, just the truth.
By the time Howard at last received the pale blue-ribbon American patriotism had plunged to its nadir and in the antiwar mood of the times. The media told no one of his indomitable courage. The networks and major newspapers did not report the ceremony. It was as if it did not happen.
In 1955, every school-kid knew Alvin York’s and Audie Murphy’s names. In 1970, no one had ever heard of Bob Howard’s valiant deeds, though his body bore more scars than Navy, Lieutenant John F Kerry, leader activist of antiwar movement with three awards of the Purple Heart for his service in Mekong-Delta combat, but no bleeding, no scars, and no a minute in hospital as Senator Bob Dole said;(Kerry met a criteria requirement such as graduated at Yale university in the prejudice of the First Skull and Bones generation [W A Harriman] and the Second one {George H W Bush] He was selected by them. Thereby upon his return, based on his strong feelings that his fighting men were being sacrificed for a mission in which all generals get lost the objectives, so no longer believed. However he voluntary involved in the effort of veterans to stop the war; it’s also based axiom three that explained the war-solution from earlier 1960 in all universities).
Not surprisingly POW were still imprisoned in the Hanoi Hilton at that time, took a dim view of his antiwar activities. Where they were held, beaten, and tortured for years. They were the honor soldiers, much of that time served after they refused to accept freedom on terms that violated the POW code of honor governing the order of prisoner releases.
Howard chest more true values-decorations than either of these acclaimed heroes. Altogether, Howard served five tours in Vietnam, mostly in SOG, never once shrinking from the sound of guns. “Whenever someone asks me that day why I volunteer engaged to become Project-Delta Force, Flight Queen-Bee Group Commander, SO., I tell them, it was for the honor of having served beside such SOG’ gallant men…as Bob Howard!”
So who brought our Americans fellows in arms having the feeling self-loathing Americans, and the false guilt about the noble cause of the Vietnam War? You sho e recognized who when you finished this “The New Legion” master piece.
(Haunting memories of brave comrades, by Stryker Meyer North County Times staff writer, served in the Special Forces from 1968 to 1970)
When I die, if the Lord gives me a moment to reflect before I breathe, my first thoughts will be not of my loved ones, nor my children. I’ll reflect on and thank God for Sáu, Hiệp, Phước, Tuấn, Hùng, Sơn, Quang, Châu, Cầu, and Minh. Captains Tưởng and Thinh and lieutenants Trung and Trọng will follow them in my thoughts. Then, I’ll think of my loving wife, our talented and unique children, andour folks.
Why the Vietnamese men before my loved ones? Without the courage, strength and fearless verve as combatants in America’s secret war in Southeast Asia, I wouldn’t have returned to the United States.
To day, on the 25th anniversary of the fall of Saigon, I’ll pause to salute those warriors , men most Americans will never hear about, including the more than 3 millions U.S troops sent to South Vietnam during America’s longest and costliest war.
There are many who do not respect or salute the Vietnamese who fought in Vietnam. That’s because our country has failed to educate them about the Vietnamese, the country they sent us to and its history and customs. As Green-Berets, we fought side by side with them, laughed with them and learned about theirs families, their dreams and hopes and fears.
The first group was members of Spike-Team Idaho, a reconnaissance team that ran classified missions into Cambodia, Laos and North Vietnam under the aegis of the Military Assistance Command Vietnam, Studies and Observation Group …SOG. Green-Berets, Navy SEALs and US Marine Corps Force Reconnaisance troops manned several special operation commands throughout South Vietnam.
I joined Spike Team Idaho in May 1968, after six members of the team disapperated in a Laos target area. Three U.S Green Berets and three Vietnamese mercenaries were never heard from again and remain listed as missing in action today. By ’68, Idaho operated out of Phú Bài, 10 miles south of Hue. In May, there were 30 recon-teams there. By November, Idaho was the only operational team left in camp. The enemy troops in Laos, Cambodia and North Vietnam were well-trained, fearless and well-equipped.
Captain Tưởng and Thinh and Lieutenants Trung and Trọng were helicopters pilots who flew Sikorsky H-34, which we called “QUEEN-BEES,” into landing zones where enemy soldiers tried
to knock them out the sky. For several months in ’68, the Queenbees were the only aircraft flying SOG teams “across the fence” deep into enemy territory. In Laos, the CIA estimated there were between 30.000 and 40.000 North Vietnamese troops keeping the Ho Chi Minh Trail open, bringing supplies from the north to South Vietnam… and fighting SOG troops.
During my 17 months on Idaho, we always left targets under heavy fire from North Vietnamese troops. The ride home was in Queenbees and every time we asked for one, it came, regardless of enemy fire. There are many Green-Berets alive today thank to the incredible flying skills of Vietnamese Queenbee- pilots. And without the Vietnamese or Montagnards team members, there would have been more than the 161 killed in SOG operations.
Sáu was the Vietnamese team leader on Spike Team Idaho. When I landed at Phú-Bài, Sáu had been fighting for Special Forces nearly five years. Weighing less than 100 pds soaking wet, Sáu had a remarkable sixth nense: He could smell the enemy. In the jungle he moved with complete stealth and silence, often cursing his larger American counterparts. Hiệp was the team’s interpreter, who sometimes corrected U.S troops on their English, as well as speeking Vietnamese, French and some Chinese, Phước, Châu, Sơn and Hùng all signed up with Special Forces when they were 15 or 16. After hundreds of hours of intensive training, their age didn’t matter as they stood tall in combat.
On October, 7, 1968, Spike Team Idaho, after trying to escape from North Vietnamese trackers, was attacked by NVA soldiers, who opened fire on full automatic. Sáu had warned they were near. Although none of the Americans heard anything; Sáu, Phước, Hiệp and Don-Wolken were on alert, with their weapons on full automatic, ready to go.
In those firefights the first seconds are crucial. The submachine guns we carried fired 20 high-velocity rounds in ½ seconds. Sáu, Phước and Hiệp reloaded and drove the NVA back down the jungle-shrouded hill. We gained fire superiority, but the NVA never stopped coming at us. After a while, they were firing ar us from behind stacks of dead bodies. They came at us from 2. p.m until dusk, time and again rushing us, trying to overrun our position. We had Air Force Phantom jets, Skyraiders and helicopter gunships dropping bombs napalm and cluster bombs and make strafing runs. That was the first time I could recall smelling burnt human flesh. By dusk, we were low on ammo, hand grenades and rounds for our grenade laucher. Captain Thinh flew his H-34 to a slight rise above our position, hovering in deep elephant grass …thick-bladed grass that grew more than 12 feet tall. Because the grass was thick and NVA tried to close in on us again, it took us several minutes to get to the Queenbee. When I arrived under it, I looked up at Captain Thinh, sitting there looking as calm as a Rocky Mountain breeze in springtime, and he smiled. Finally, we were loaded and he yanked us out of there. Sáu, Hiệp, Phước and I fired off our last magazine of rounds and threw our last grenades as we pulled out of the landing zone, again under heavy enemy fire. With a few minutes we were at 4.000 feet, returning to Phú-Bài. We were safe and unharmed. The Queenbee had 48 holes from bullets and grenades in its side panels and propellers. The new American on the team quit the nextday. Sáu, Hiệp, and Phước are dinner before I arranged for Sáu and Hiệp to return to their families that night.
That scene unfolded hundreds of times over the course of SOG’s history; I carry a deep, haunting guilt for having left them in South Vietnam
.
“Vocabularies, they absolutely fearless, and some SOG men said ‘It was really rough and tough and rugged… How tough? You could blow cylinders out of it and still get yourseft home’
Sadly, one thing extraordinary happened that it was 100% we got killed because the bad weather, none from enemy with cambat-bullets. But the ever-image of helicopter H-34 crewmembers “Missing In Action that flashed into my mind terrified me and I couldn’t hold my tear shed out because they were died but I was still survive, including Master Sergeant Ralph-Reno, Staff Sergeant Donald Fawcett and Officer Operation, Captain Edwin-Mc Namara…
Meanwhile SOG’s MIA numbers continued to climb, especially on Harriman’s Super-Highway corridor. On 31 July 1969 a six man SOG team led by Captain Dennis Neal and Specialist Four Mike Burns, was overrun 20 miles into Laos, near Highway 921. When last heard, one man’s voice radioed, “Help...help…help….for God’s sake….help” Later, our Queen-Bee rescue team found no bodies, no sign of any kind.
Then on 13, November 1969, on corridor of Harriman Highway as well, Staff Sergeant Ronald Ray, ‘One-Zero’, and Sergeant Randy Suber, ‘One-One’, were overrun 15 miles west of the Ashau-valley near Laotian Highway 923. Dead or alive, they were in enemy hands. The price was too high for the so called ‘verification check’ the craps: “I feel hatred towards the checking NVA presentation on Harriman Highway in his ambitious narrow interest stratagem.”
By way of conclusion, I just determined that Harriman was working a scam, like some wicked wizard from a children’s fairy tale.
DeLuca knew SOG’s attempts to ransom POWs. The most unfathomable impediments, Tony DeLuca thought, were political limitations that crippled POW recovery attempts in Laos and Cambodia. For instance, despite a friendly government taking power in Phnom Penh in 1970, U.S,-led SOG teams were not permitted to search Cambodia for POWs after the 30 June,1970, in post-invasion pull-out. Why? Even Harriman retired from a freewheeling diplomat 1969, but his next generation, wise-man George W.H Bush continued on course of his Eurasia Great Game’s stratagem that means still keeping untouched Ho Chi Minh Trail development in manpower and material military equipments build-up there. Naturally, the U.S embassy in Phnom Penh and the Joint Chiefs still reserved approval authority for any Cambodian Bright Light, but not a single U.S-led rescue mission was approved after 30 June 1970. And also the situation was hardly more accommodating for POW Bright Light into Laos. Since November 1969, the U.S ambassador required advance coordination for POW rescues beyond SOG’ 18-mile sector; records do not reflect how many requests were denied, but not a single SOG POW rescue mission was approved in Laos. The plight of the POWs and MIAs grew and grew on DeLuca’s conscience. The truth was, he concluded, the United States was going through the motions but there was no high-level emphasis; no one would ever be retrieved. In this gut, DeLuca knew something had to be done.
In the course of Vietnam War, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Americans pilots and crewmen had been shot down and captured by Communist North Vietnam. They had parachuted into the waiting arms of the Hanoi, crashed in Laos and been hunted down by the Pathet-Laos, endured years of torment in Hilton prison at Hanoi, and been used as pawns by the Soviets. Very few of them had escaped, few had lost their youth through years of captivity, and few had never come home. And from the moment of each one’s capture, each had surrendered his future to the unknown. None had known when or if they would see freedom again.
On 18, February, 1971, the first of 6 SOG recon-teams inserted into the Ashau-valley to support of operation Lam Son 719, to tie down North VN forces and gather intelligence for when the ARVN returned along highway 922 coming out of Laos. Initially the Ashau diversion had been assigned to the 1st Brigade 101 Airborne division, which was to storm the Valley with four battalions, the specter of heavy American casualties apparently scotched that, instead a hand-full of recon-teams were giving job originally planned for a 2,000 men paratroop unit. (This genius Intelligence-War Strategy was repeated in WWII, the perfect coordination command and control between US Ambassador Averell Harriman to Soviet Union and Lieutenant William Colby in the Hot-Spot) The Ashau-valley had never been hotter. Captured documents revealed the North VN had moved 11 counter-recon-companies, there to reinforce Landing-Zone watcher, tracker-dogs rear security units and infantry battalions plus two antiaircraft battalions defended this area.
Both SOG and the Air Force had suspected as much with USAF intelligence determining Oscar Eight contained the largest depot outside North Vietnam. Sergeant John Meyer who ran recon near Oscar Eight, recalled, “The area was really hot. I mean, every team that went in there got the shit shot out of it”. Just before the 1967 raid, U.S signal intelligence each day detected 2,300 radio messages emanating from there to North VN, a volume unparalleled throughout Laos. General Westmoreland believed an NVA Field Army headquarters that controlled all enemy operations in South Vietnam’s 1 Corps was located there.
Oscar Eight’s terrain favored the enemy, with the only suitable LZ in a wide bowl, surrounded by jungle high ground containing antiaircraft guns and bunkered infantry. The raid began with a dawn Arc Light by nine B.52s. Flying Covey, Master Sergeant Billy Waugh watched nearly a thousand 500 and 750-pound bombs walk across Oscar Eight, setting off 50 secondary explosions. Incredibly, the bombs had barely stopped falling when he could see NVA running from their shelters to roll fuel barrels away from a fire. Waugh radioed SOG Lieutenant Colonel Harold Rose at Khe-Sanh, “I’ve got people out here scurrying around. That sonvabitch is loaded” As the smoke cleared… Another Arc Light B.52 struck a cargo ammunition depot at the low-level of limestone “Co-Roc” setting off 2 hours secondary explosions. This is a great NVA command and Control sanctuary headquarter got hit at limestone Co-Roc, creating non communication for two weeks and less-pressure at Khe Sanh at least in during the lunar-Tet.
Those craps of Arc Light by 9 B.52 carpeted bombardment on 9 August, 1968 on Oscar-Eight, just damaged few cargo supplies; however no one human-being get hurt thank to Soviet camouflage fishing boat transmitting advance alert message to this headquarter, according to ROE craps. I considered that a “Non-Vulnerable Bomb-Game”. In turn of Soviet’s subordinate [North Vietnam] launched 107 or 122 mm Katyusha rockets, for instant at Danang Air Base. The house-wife of my Airmen family quarters, they had felt a Germany hospital ship “Helgolan” likely a key symbol referee for the “launching rockets-game”. One certain day, when hospital ship Helgolan was leaving Danang harbor to the ocean; they were sure 100% that night Communist Hanoi launching rockets to Danang Air Base. And at the morning of that day, at the breakfast time, some high speaker in U.S Main-Compound was echoed lousy some noise that they didn’t know what the hell’s means. However, they were waiting until at 4 or 5 PM of that day, they came to harbor Danang, if Helgolan ship leaving, they’d hurry up returned to the Air base and harangued to their husbands: “To night! Viet Cong launched rockets to our base, I must escaped in snatching all children to down town if you don’t scare O.K, staying here and died!!!”
They’re right, before that happened, about 15 minutes, high speaker at Main Compound once again repeated many time and let G.I have known, having enough time. And how many rockets will hit; but according ROE, there was never more than 50 rockets for every launch-craps-event.
Peering through the mist of fog, two helicopter H.34 looking like two whale have been sleeping, for sunbath on the grassy flat slope, their bodies sweated all over with morning moisture from the atmosphere condensed into drop on the cold aluminum camouflage surface. From our shelter-tents, on proceeding to the helipad through the haze dimness visibility, I could see our crew-chiefs busy scurrying around with their maintenance duties. Master Sergeant Mai was busy with his grease gun; he greased the main rotor component; meanwhile Sergeant Vang hand-pumped to refill all tanks. Apparently, we couldn’t care about flying safety operation because a special secret infiltration. However I reminded Vang must leave a quantity of fuel at the bottom of each fuel-barrel due to water subsided.
“Hey Vang! Did you check these expired date of six fuel barrels on this 4/4 truck?” I said.
“Yes I did…and the suction-tube of hand pump wouldn’t reach to the bottom, it have a foot above the bottom for safety…no sweat I take care of it, sir!”
Vang wore black-pajama garb of peasant made from Okinawa, that remind me in 1962 when we came here [Khe Sanh] all flight crewmembers must worn those black-pajama garb; had turned in their dog-tags, military I.D cards of South Vietnam, even their U.S, cigarettes, which were replaced by Asian brands, absolutely none carrying with U.S weapon made. All crewmembers equipped with Swedish K submachine guns and Belgian-made Browning 9mm pistols, all of which, of course, had been acquired clandestinely so a serial-number check would lead nowhere.
And in down-cabin was equipped with one packet of explosive C-4 for self destroying helo when emergency forced landing.
Why? Why? Because we worked with a clandestine agency called “Combined Area Studies”.
As you see above, Harriman was stubbornly protected a commencing developed HCM Trail with P.O.L parallel. Now, another thing different is in the map geographic named Khe Sanh replaced instead of Huong-Hoa county in the past, its belonging to territory of Quang-Tri province. Population over here [Khe-Sanh] was about 3,000, the most were French coffee planters, habitation along Route 9; but in-fact due to not security, the Diem regime would evacuated them to safety area along Mieu-Giang River to La-Vang Catholic-hamlet, belonging Quang Tri territory as well.
(continued)

vinhtruong
10-27-2010, 11:02 PM
I saw Vang look like just get out from the river, he sweat too much from his hair to forehead, all over his eyes like just crying.
“Stop pumped! Relax for a while I help you pumped it” I said
“For save time and save fuel, I told Lt Hue and Lt Khoi should refill at Dong-Ha for sparing a quantity fuel over-here.”
I must have a short briefing to Master Sergeant Donald Duncan and Lieutenant Nha from LLDB [Vietnamese Green beret]
I said “All of you must check sure your harness-belt secure while you hanging out of the chopper for snapshot pictured. After take off , I must practiced a ‘Lazy-Eight’ like U-turn but not really U-turn, because we don’t have enough horizontal space for U-turn, around over-there just were stone shield hewn from solid rock both side like giant-tall walls along of large spring, like we are concealed in deep of a canyon, Tam-Boi’s mountain. Thereby only one alternative is vertical I-turn when we couldn’t go ahead because it would crash into the shield rock-wall. I deadly certain sure with all of you that the above us, there’re all belt antiaircraft artilleries ready for shooting down any aircraft flyover. We used tactical flight as the small fishes hidden in the bottom coral sharp rock. This is only way for survive, rather got hit surrounded by jungle high ground containing antiaircraft guns and bunkered infantry!”
“Now Hue and Khoi take-off right away, I will… after 20 minutes. When you all set refueling at Dong-Ha trying contact with us on frequencies…FM…, VHF…, and UHF at guard frequency, Lt Hao my copilot take care of it …if have you any question…Ah one more thing…always radio on even though grounded for refueling at Quang Ngai.”
Sergeant Vang recheck for armament, a Queen-Bee H.34 carried a single rusty World War II, belt-fed 30 caliber machine gun hung from a bungee cord in the doorway with a thousand rounds stacked in a old can under the crew-chief’s seat. The H.34 had only one door on the right side, which made it relatively blind on its left, especially to the rear. When enemy A.K 47 bullets slugs hit its carvernous troop compartment, it sound like a wash tub being beaten with a base ball bat; but this tub could take a lot of hits…still O K, as flight crewmember of Project-Delta, this time we are equipped with Carabin M.2 instead of Swedish K submachine guns; meanwhile Duncan equipped with A.R.15, much lighter and more power ammunitions. Because He was tall and strong, so he carrying so much stuffs on his harness belt, more cartridge magazines than anyone, plus flashlight, binocular, maps, first-aid-kit…and camouflage-scarf showed-up his handsome to enemy.
Last year, I was checked out by Master Sergeant Donald-Duncan. Duncan and Captain Richarson, J.3 Operation of 1st Observation Group Commandos to explore the growing Ho Chi Minh Trail for becoming a Flight-Group-Leader of Project-Delta Forces. I recalled this very Master-Sergeant Duncan, specialist instructor selected me become the leader, due to recently all my fellow senior pilots were washed-out because to much hesitation and so much safety flying. During two weeks checking-out operational flight-maneuvers. At western area of Dong Ba Thin Camp, Nha Trang were the mountainous, jungle-covered terrain, natural clearings for helicopter landing zones were scarce and likely don’t have any in the most crest-ridge of mountain. Suddenly, while flying, in down cabin, Captain Richarson radioed “infiltration right here”. I didn’t see any LZ available around, my spontaneous reflection, quickly I idled the engine RPM, made a spin autorotation with steep descendent…at last, I made accuracy precise ‘quick stop’ and putting one wheel right landing gear on a big rock, meanwhile left landing gear and tail wheel agitated in the air. I still keep high power 2,800 RPM about 10 second, I hear the echoed voice from Richarson: “Touch and go 10 seconds that’s good enough, We go home now”. Shortly, I was passed this tough-hard flight examination. From now on the 1st Observation Group Commandos in Project Delta put my nickname “The Cowboy Pilot”.
Now proceeding razed-mode flight, I am imagining six years ago (1958) In that year our ARVN called Aluoi-valley and when U.S troop coming built one more airfield called Ashau Valley. This valley, when I was a rating pilot of 1st Observation Squadron at Danang Air base, everyday I flown reconnaissance mission by a tiny Cessna L.19 Bird-dog, mission air cover from Laotian/DMZ border to southern likely to visit and contacted by SCR-300 transmitter with many out-posts along on corridor of Laos/Viet. So I was never forgotten the name of those out-posts likely the name of my children; From north to south like Satram, Liton, Tourut (Tourut, now it was North Vietnamese General Vo Bam’s 559 Transportation Group forward headquarters, the Ho Chi Minh Trail’s control center) Aluoi, Ashau, Atep, Con-Gia, Aro, Poste 6, Ro, Chalang, (Chalang, now was a Camp Kham Duc. But Danang was far from Laotian border, so ‘Shining Brass’ needed a Forward Operating Base (FOB) to house recon-team, fuel helicopter, and launch operations. A quick map study decided it: They’d locate the FOB with Group of Special-Force border surveillance, a camp at Kham-Duc, 60 miles Southwest of Danang, only 10 miles from the Laotian border. As scheduled and desolate as the adjacent Laotian wilderness, Kham Duc in a bowl formed by jungle hills that held ground fog and rain for days and weeks making this isolated camp probably the most weathered in locate in South Vietnam. But despite weather problems for the time being Kham Duc had to be the “Shining Brass FOB”) Dak-Prau, Dak-Pek, Dak-gle, Darto, and Ben-Het out-posts.
That day I had flown 3.000 feet altitude in space cool air safety, now I will flying like “razing mode” with my heart beaten rock and roll, flying overhead, I could feel eyes following and the unwelcoming with every kind of weapons. [But we swore just AK 47 bullets only] I recalled sometimes I landed at Aluoi 200 meters airfield with full flap 60 degree, high down draft turbulence, once my friend crash there because strong cross wind.
After took off, I should refreshed a practice “Lazy-Eight”. I radioed to down cabin “everyone must in harnessed in secure position” I took the nose of helo heading straight down right into the bottom of a hill, even high speed waiting very closer…then I pull up the helo-nose vertical-straight to blue sky…the air speed decreasing gradually until 20 knots, I used right rudder-pedal smooth pressure on that, the nose of helo dropped down vertical on spot “I turn”. That’s fine. “I wished don’t be nervous while facing with cruel enemy!” I did know nobody down in cabin like that, but I must practice it for saving their lives too. “May be NVA troops enjoyed to see that fabulous performance and forgotten to shoot us? On the ground base, I also explained to my crew-members, why frequently I flew alone in dangerous missions, but today I needed a full crew; because we accepted facing with individual weapon like A.K, and if I got hit, copilot could bring aircraft to home base for saving lives of peoples on board. Over-there, Oscar-Eight, we had faced with two antiaircraft battalions covering their operational base, so we didn’t having any choice unless flying very low level.
Often in case emergencies like insertions or picking-ups recon-team, I experienced use H.34 Army model, because it lighter with installed equipments, [instruments just pilot side only]
I now need H.34 Marine model with ‘Tacan instrument’ guiding instrument, double panel instruments, and armor protection below for pilots and engine. Marine model was always loaded but heavier.
I recalled when I passed the flight examination from Project Delta Force 1964. My squadron commander, Captain Nguyen-Huy-Anh gave me an authorization clearance of selected to anyone in squadron for forming my special Kamikaze-flight-group and aircraft too. Of course I had chosen the best-experience crew-chiefs and pilots. However the most should be single non-liable with family burden. We considered ourselves like bloody brothers, yet we’d been through things together that most siblings never shared. We had laughed hard, fought hard, and no one and nothing could come between us. I would have done anything for them, and they would have done the same for me. Now everyone must have particularly necessity specific duty for our country. In reality we are the unknown heroes. All flight missions were top classified secret, low level flight avoiding radar detecting. More bad weather, more surprise enemy were the most impossible missions that we made; at night 30% moonlight, 100 feet above the treetops. These concealed flight missions, nobody even in Vietnamese Air Force known, except SOG, Combines Area Studies LLDB. The USAF and U.S Army Aviation saluted our impossible missions. We are the young guides rating pilots but patriotism eagerly defends our country more than anyone else.
We’re on course heading to Oscar-Eight, flying treetops not because avoiding the detected-radar but let enemy non ready alert welcome us coming with various kinds of anti-aircrafts. Heading 155 degree in gyro-compass, bumping up and down to follow surface relief of terrain, in my left side The Sa-Tram ghost out-post haunted on the grass-hill abandoned since 1961, in-front us the Tam-Boi mountain, down the valley on the side of cliff, a spring flowing to the south was another located ghost out-post ‘Liton.’ I opened broader my eye and feel the sun’s rays baking my face, inhaling the scent of the forest below there. Flying as low as better to blind the enemy’ eyes following us. At high level like a belt anti-aircraft on bowl valley, there were immense hewn from solid shield rock, where Oscar-Eight was located.
Like any major challenge in life, a same scene but at different altitude, different time, one was cool and one was hot, now so open it was eerie; flying overhead I could feel eyes following. I have to take it in bits and pieces. I don’t try to tackle the whole thing at once. So, even though I was trying to convince myself not to worry about it, but those images of below there would continue to ambush my mind. Everything below was drastically changed a lot since the forest was so much devastated by new human activities. Instead of so many trails and route heading to south, many new bridges crossing shallow river, farthermost, below canopy, numerous sanctuaries installed, more depot cargo but camouflage with covered forest leaves became brownish, more smoke, fume, vapor exhalation. Some crop garden mixed with various corns, potato, yucca cassava…U2 and RF-101E how could detected, except our low level helo flying can snap-shot it by Duncan and Nha, the sheer photographers. How we could distinguish enemy group crossing on a dry-river with supplies moving by porters or military unit with weapons in hand instead of branches of trees with leave in camouflage to tract of ground for grazing.
Who guaranties for Hanoi to take by force or legal authority to overrun and to dissolve South Vietnam by axiom 1? I meditated that’s not Soviet Union, none China Communist but our big treachery-brother [Harriman and Bushes]. A horrible ‘war-game’ wasn’t real war. Had the U.S really wanted a military triumph, it could have easily achieved it, with benefit of hindsight. It has become clearer that the U.S goals were more ambitious than a superficial, bogus military victory.
All Communist countries have faulted U.S intervention in Indochinese as evidence of American arrogance of power, attempts by the United States to be the World’s policeman, or World’s Nanny. As for myself, I assumed that the United States like a Casino’s dealer pretended having goodness which He would protracted the play-game by sacrifice of little bit money to all players, or used a magical trick for taking money from this player giving to another looser, nurturing the game. At last, when the game was over, all the monies from the players should be in the hand of U.S magical dealer! In the Indochinese War, the United States had aided to support French at 1949 Secretary State Acheson persuaded president Truman French-aid 15 million, four years later proposed two billion; but recently OSS 1945 U.S parachute at north-west sanctuary ‘Pat-Po’ helping out Ho Chi Minh thousand of Carbine and machine gun BAR, and training psycho-arms-platoon of Vo Nguyen Giap; South Vietnam captured so many cadres of COSVN, CIA forced to release them. Airborne from South Vietnam just intended to seize the Quang Tri citadel were the so called make mistake bombardment on them because Vietnamese Airborne acted wrong time and way on spot They preferred the Vietnamese Marine to seize it on time table agenda.
Now the war game was over by the fall of the Republic of Vietnam [axiom1] on the cruel April 30, 1975 was not because of its Armed Forces unwillingness to fight or because of its government corruption. It was simply a trade off for economic and political gain superbly orchestrated between the superpowers, the United States, The Soviet Union, and People’s Republic of China.
Alas! Sadly, the Republic of Vietnam was used as merchandise in this exchange.
I am trying to open my eyes broadly, broader in keeping in mind to ready accepted individual weapon bullets than antiaircraft gunners. Keeping this very low level flight avoided out of blind spot shooting, usually AAA’s enemy with direction up to the air, not at bottom to valley for the readiness shooting the fighter-bombers flyover.
Now I though should flight directly at the route in front of us, short-cut enemy sight seeing reaching straight right on a shallow river flowing back to Xe-Pon River, to northwest at quite closer a city Tchepone.
Suddenly, I downed the nose helo for acceleration airspeed passing the below river over one group of peoples might be porters, scurrying around crossing of rocks of river for grazing. Dedicated porters bent bandy-legged beneath heavy loads trudged down those paths, they were camouflage with bushed-leaves. When we passed by, Duncan saw some flapped hands to him, they didn’t fired because they didn’t carry gun.
The echoed in my helmet, Sergeant Mai laugh in saying “How you think”
So busy, I chewed up microphone hissed my muffled voice “Communist Hanoi welcomes you! Because you are his comrade buddies”
I could hear my crew chiefs, sergeant Mai, echoed me loudly: “Duncan and Nha are busy for snapshots, but I’m free… I did by my reflection of courtesy that’s it!” “Now I’m ready for the next”
I thought these flapping hands were encountered like auto-suggestion-out of knowledge by reflection not for hospitality.
Now we are passing on the nasty road, father discovered a bull-dozer with big and straight exhaust, dozen peoples scurrying around. They were at work, no one see us. I wish we will get the exciting pictures by Nha and Duncan. We’re just reaching the ‘hot-spot’. At this point, I knew I was no longer invincible. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest. In the space of eight minutes just passing Oscar-Eight, I had flown from feeling as indestructible as an iron dragon to fragile as a hummingbird in a forest fire. Hoping things were going to shit. I hold the flight-control harder, my lips closed, flying with tail rotor flexible like small fish in the deep coral sharp rock, as the hard skeleton ourselves for preventing the big fish predator. I tried to keep razing closed on the left flank of the rocky mountain hewn for in right side hatched door Duncan and Nha easier took snapshot. Above us, on top of cliffs, at right side, I could see some human activities, as hanging some military clothes, some pylon antenna, telephone wires, bunkered infantry up there, of course containing antiaircraft guns I sure guessed. But everything were very quite standstill, might be enemy was never believed we are a guest without invitation! Unwelcome? I felt convinced because we couldn’t see antiaircraft at all; in turn enemy couldn’t see us too.
I had a good view from atop the helo, began to feel a bit comfortable with the calm situation. Suddenly, I hear behind the tail rotor one pair of high-explosive blasts “Palmm… Palmm.” I lower the nose helo increasing air speed; the moment passed quickly, and my thought drifted back to reality. “Oh God, Just please don’t let us lose an engine!” I prayed to some nebulous God of War as we are razing close the cliff right over the left side. We badly need natural obstacle. There’re a few thin stratus clouds hanging lower on the valley, which was fine for us but even blind spot for enemy. Now we could hear the crisp, rattling sounds of AK-47 echoing in the valley, but far away behind us. I did not utter a word, and think as like welcome fire crackers.
Shortly, I could feel my heart again thumping in my chest. It seemed to me that “enemy having alertness” I have seen some straight lines of smoke at right side of the river shooting at us. They can’t reach us, but fall to explode right in middle of river. I think…there was B.40 or B.41 with short range. The time passed too slow among so much and anywhere the explosive blasts, rattling sounds of AK47. Now in front of us, high-explosive blasts formed many vertical-pylons of smoke we could smell the bad odor. I couldn’t have any orientations where for escaped, just continued flying as fast as low I can, concealing behind all natural possible obstacles for passing this hot area. May enemy shoot to us by mortars? I never forgot the Russia 120mm mortars that burst in an extremely large fragmentation pattern. Now I can see two parallel-projectile, dark-white smoke impelled too fast forward to us, from the above the cliff at right side. First, I think again B.41, or B.40, so they couldn’t reach us. But when I realize it not…so too late, the air blast projectile I can hear in my helmet. Two terrible explosions at left side on the cliff about fifty feet made helo shaking, and their smoke could envelope our helo in the moment. That’s individual air missile like SA7, SẠ5, or SA3? If it was 85mm or 75 mm guns, they would never have smoke behind projectile. However, at last we are passing there, don’t worry. I take a deep breath getting little uncomfortable. Now we see a lot peoples likewise a full company or battalion took bath or laundry in the river. Oh…Oh everyone hurry to the bank…once again the rattling sound of AK47 but too far behind from us.
I am not a man believes in Omens, but there were many various weapons trying to kill us, and so again I prayed to some nebulous God of War again and again as bring us out of here as sooner.
Now, over-here, everything became very vulnerable quite, I reduce engine power, the cliffs were higher. The Tam-Boi mountain became our risk with a huge iron high wall in-front of us, like giant barrage and the river narrowed it, and rough-twisted to right like stopping-fence. Impatiently I am trying concentrated on my smoothness flight maneuver keeping the same high airspeed… faster…enough speed I pulled the nose of helo straight up to the blue sky, my body stick in the seat, we can feel my face longer, sagged, and heavier. The air speed decreased gradually till 20kts, I used pressure on right rudder pedal, helo nose dropped vertical down to I turn. I maintained airspeed moderate.
I hear at down cabin my crew-chief Mai complained they are so exhausted, please let them relax for a while. I should know that, so I flown over a density virgin-forest, lest human activity and surrounding there for few minutes. “O.K everyone laid on the cabin floor relaxing five minutes, and continued mission!”
Now I have time asking the rescue helicopter hadn’t contact with us. Co-pilot Hao said, they had asked for us every five minutes.
I took helo back to the trail at our left side over the jungles below with tall-thick canopy trees. The route like a long red snack rambling to southeast, sometime Duncan took snapshot through below the foliage blurring some roofs bamboo made-stored depot cargo-houses. The road continued down to slope and disappeared. I couldn’t see anything except everywhere was green thick forest. We’re get lost the trail; I tried come up little bit for finding it, but no hope…the basic secret operation mission regulation couldn’t permit us to return for searching. I changed direction to the left 30 degree for three minutes, and 60 degree to the right. I planned to continue flying this same pattern till seeing it, but absolutely not climbing higher. Five pairs of eyes are focus on the unknown road below suddenly Duncan echoed radio to me: “direction two at clock in-front of us”. Abruptly I turned helo to right and jointed it at once, and continued keeping parallel of its on left side. Now the terrain appeared clear and flat grassy, not single road, but four roads wandering to the south like four red snacks in parade, at time they changed colors mud-black and camouflage with grassy. I make decision selecting the one in left side for lest vulnerable and good vision for pick snapshots from right side helo’s door. Automatically, I should fly razing the tall-eeriest grassy reeds. Now the woods, under a dense growth of trees appeared numerous a cluster of cargo-bamboo-house. I must leaving the road, but flown parallel with it far away to left side over the thick woods. The wind from northeast so strong, it increases my helo lift performance and helps with the noise, reducing the time the enemy can hear us coming.
Now in the bottom grassy floor of Ashau-valley, once again, at this moment, I knew I was no longer invincible. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest again. Why Hanoi didn’t build the road in closer mainland to Laotian border, and I preferred to flyover the triple jungle canopies below concealed North Vietnamese troops? Our recon-teams operated mostly in Laos and DMZ discovered a new road coming out of Laos just north of the Ashau valley pointed dangerously toward the populous coastal plain north of Hue; very heavy NVA forces made penetrations also but impossible, it was as if a curtain were being lowered to conceal enemy activities.
We don’t need mock assaults into rugged jungle landing zones, but at least safe for us to flyover. Razing flight would be reaching hill to hill toward that new position. It would be very hard to distinguish enemy concentration from antiaircraft batteries in such a melee. Over-here I couldn’t just cowboy, managing with brutal maneuvers meanwhile Duncan and Nha in snapped the scenes. I am passing on the corner of the thick wood, discovered too many roofs-concentrated troop quarter compounds, the leaves covered above became brownish and barren. The images of multilateral that flashed into my mind terrified me.
I thought Duncan and Nha took so much interested pictures, I hear sound of AK right far on my left, just on the road recently passed. The moment passed quickly, and my thoughts drifted back to reality. Although We used to hear them like a music rock and roll [because too far from us] This road on my left side will be crossing a shallow spring, I heading the helo to closer it, due to the thick and tall trees parallel both side will be great for the need natural obstacles. We peeled through the road crossing a creek, it seemed two parallel references wild-creepers bounding the equal distances, some knots with red color rags hanging on it…the truck driver just driving in the middle of two references line on the bridge submerged with water on the stone-rocks, preventing driver disorientated out of track. Oh no! Beyond the spring appeared a thatched bunker, I saw a person wore a short pant proceeding to the bank of spring, another guy laundry in plashed water. They don’t have enough time to see us, so why they won’t welcome by rattling AK? At last, we were passing very safety. Now we passed on the un-thick barren-woods with shrub branches and bushes. Oh! Not woods! A plot of land NVA used for growing vegetables, some corns, some rows of potatoes, yucca cassava… I am sure that U.2 or RF 101E photos couldn’t discovered these things like sheer our own eyes. There were very strange in Vietnam War’s history! But right in the middle of the plot appeared a ‘scared-crow’ worn NVA uniform. But the hen-parrot didn’t scare this NVA uniform they together celebrated in free-eating and none left.
Now this road will crossed a dry-weather spring. The scene was so different, everything so calm, no wild creepers for references, emerged on the same level of the dirty road with perfect arranged stone-rocks joined two banks of the spring; so We could considered it like ‘emerged-bridge’, and it seemed unharmed for us with no guard-bunkers.
(continued)

vinhtruong
10-28-2010, 11:34 PM
Now we started at flat, grassy bottom of valley and so open, it was eerie. Keeping razed-flight, my right side was Aloui’ abandoned airfield and two ghost camps haunted the valley floor with major new road connected to north Laotian. With no choice, I must heading helo to the west of Laotian concealed in mountain. Though, there were not hot like at forward operation base 559 Group (Oscar Eight) but over-here I flown any altitude, even very low on the flat, grassy bottom will easy been shooting down, because both sides of valley so numerous antiaircraft batteries standby we couldn’t escape. However they were thought all tactical fighter aircrafts will come from the east. Technically, with my experience, it isn’t surprising since burrowed deep into the both side hills of valley, defended by batteries of antiaircraft guns were always in alert. Geographically, NVA established all AAA batteries at east-flank hill. So I made decision fly on the far west side of the valley.
Down here, once I looked for missing SOG men. Shining Brass operation were the most consistently dangerous SOG missions, not just because recon-teams went behind enemy lines into an area bristling with antiaircraft guns, but because the enemy could lie in ambush for them. The enemy often turned on a captured pilot’s survival radio’s beeper or laid out his marker panel to draw rescue aircraft into a trap. In some cases, a North Vietnamese soldier would don a captured pilot’s flight-suit and helmet, fore pen flares and wave, then collapse. When a rescue Queen-Bee came in to get him, it was blown to bits by antitank rockets: B.40, or B.41. In several instances SOG Shining Brass were aborted at the last minute when a downed pilot managed to slip an odd word or two into his radio conversation, tipping off his rescuers that he was in enemy hands. Before inserted an infiltration team we had a special agreement of secret gestures by hands or foots while Queen Bee made approach to the LZ [the trap was usually wide and clear LZ].
I recalled from a hovering Queen Bee into thick Laotian jungle above few recon-men wounded, give some sense of what our crew flight personnel faced. “When you get out of a H.34, rescue helicopter, knowing that you’re going to rappel down and you cannot see anything but the tops of trees ; you have no idea what’s down at the bottom of those trees or underneath that canopy waiting for you”. But there was no option.
Once the rescue-team was on the ground, heavy antiaircraft fire might drive away the Queen Bee. A Green Beret medic who rappelled onto a crash site tied his rope to a tree to prevent my helicopter’s departure; which was only sick humor, since my crew chief could cut the line in a second.
Now, over this odd-rough-terrain, I had to change the tactical flight. Hurry up I radioed to my crew chief:
“Take out two hatched emergency-windows at left side…Now we change tactical flying position attitude.”
“Let them know, Duncan and Nha moved to left side at windows for taking snapshot!” Because at the barrier flank from east of Ashau Valley having many kind of AAAs like 12.7mm, 14.5mm, 23mm, 37.mm, 57mm, 75mm, 85mm; Keep heading 155 degree to Atep-Tabat. However we were still following up along the Ashau Airfield and its ghost camp. We could easy figured them out among the green of jungle up to the hills, appeared scattering some fresh pink earth like the mouth of frog [AAA’s bunkers]. Now we were flying over the barren hill. Abruptly the terrain changed likely the end of the hills-relief. Spontaneously, I dive the helo to the right down to flat floor valley. The enemy had lined the mountain valley with 20 antiaircraft artillery pieces and thousands of automatic weapons, making it a deadly flak trap for the slow-moving H-34s. Other hostile troops had surrounded the ghost-haunted Ashau Camp and were continuously raking it with automatic-weapons fire from the surrounding hills. The tops of the 1,500-foot hills were obscured by an 800-foot ceiling, we’re flown under tunnel, limiting aircraft maneuverability and forcing pilots to operate within range of hostile gun positions, which often were able to fire down on attacking aircraft.
Actually, everything scared in my eyes, my right landing gear seemed to crash on antiaircraft position, my mind was in panic situation, and main rotor-blades might cut the antenna wires. I can see the antenna pylons scattered with straight bamboo antennas too. Now I can see the liked big frog’s red mouth with the fresh red earth curbed around bunkers. We could see one North Vietnamese soldier wore military-T-shirt, he did know we are here. Two barren cannons great guns were up to sky, why they were not bounding twisted around by wild-creepers look like we had passed recently over them? I thought we should have valuable pictures of both from Duncan and Nha above just 30 feet but so ‘sorry’ no gunners on the platform-spot. In this West-frank of valley was less AAAs than East frank. We could see numerous of ‘Red mouth Frogs in the far eastern. We all were panic in wishing the gunners on the far-east frank didn’t see our camouflage Queen Been because we are the unwelcome-guests and in their down-wind from the sea-breeze. They couldn’t see and hear from us.
Still maintain at right side of valley, many roads wandering to southeast but the color dark gray muddy. Despite they are, I was still keeping far away from them but frequently cast on eyes follow them. Because not some but thousand enemy eyes followed us, they could figured out where we are not due to the camouflage Queen-Bee but than a engine droning nearer, hoping NVA didn’t heard us because the wind from the ocean flew strong velocity to the West mountain rank.
Now we discovered two oxen-carts camouflaged with green leave bushes proceeding south, I managed little bit closer for observation. There were not oxen-carts but human being pulled them. Two persons bent bandy-legged behind heavy loads trudged up to slope. How we can tell peoples in South Vietnam believed that scene? We are afraid come closer and so we didn’t care what the hell inside of the carts. Two carts were just intruding in the tall reed grass.
Now we are out of Ashau-Valley reaching at high land Atep-Tabat closer Laotian border, all roads joined together formed single road but smaller, hard for follow up. Right away I headed helo to that easy-missed-road which was trans-color back like a Red-Snack wandering in the woods. We were worry missed her, so our ‘ten-eyes’ concentrated on that. The tri-canopies of jungle concealed her for a while and completely unseeing it. Once again I follow the own pattern procedure how to search her, I take 30 degree to right first, about 3 minutes and take 60 degree left… Eventually we find her. I am flown closer and frequently contact flight with her, enemy don’t have enough time for shooting us. We are at west Bach-Ma (French White-Horse resort for R and R) about 15 miles. The road appeared very clear under the sun being hard and slicing through the noon haze. Heavy activities were beneath a green forest, everywhere were clear and flat high plateau-land. It was eerie! How altitude, position, what flight maneuvers, reactions prevented the helo get hit by ground fires? That’s big question in my mind always obsess me.
Repeated-factor applications were the only method: accelerated airspeed, flight razing-mode pattern, sometime the helo would hit the ground or trees. At this point, we knew, we were no longer invincible. We could feel our hearts thumping in our chest for long, in the wished swift-space of few minutes passing. As for me, even though I was trying to convince myself not to worry about it, those images of helo shot-down would continue to ambush my mind.
In-front of us, now so many roads appeared concurrent to a village, county? I keep followed a broader road in the right side closer the heavy woods. If I felt so much risk, I would turn to hide over natural obstacle (woods). Once again, I see one person bent bandy-legged behind heavy loads trudged down that path. Suddenly, we found out one strip parallel with that road emerged a line-pipe it seemed POL from northwest to southeast. That we guessed it! Now we detected so many big and small houses scattered along both side of a small spring. They were military quarters or cargo depots? Who know? Theaters, auditoriums…Oh! Oh they were playing ‘volley-ball’, crowded spectators peoples down there. Automatically, I increased airspeed though I was used in almost maximum engine power.
But everything sound completely quite. Because they were enjoyed the volley ball game, and do not have enough time for reaction. We were just passed the very hot spot, but quite, nothing happened…now the atmosphere became fresher, I began to feel a bit comfortable with this situation. I had a good view from the helo cockpit, but there were just too many of things must worry. Our mission was not accomplished yet. That moment passed quickly, now my thoughts drifted back to reality. I reduced airspeed to normal RPM, and followed the single road to south like never left a sweet-lover behind, but hoping not for my whole life?
Ahead, there were a numerous squared heaps of earth. What that? Opened ammunition depots? Down there showed-up many crossing-roads in zic-zac around many large bamboo and thatch-houses. Right in the middle located a biggest house, on the thatch-roof that we see covering by the green color nylon, for what? For preventing rain shower or made reference point for us not get lost in orientation? The fearless calm me like the hell. Oh I do know they were busy for watching volley game.
Right here, recently the Yards in a recon-team discovered a huge of heaps rocket-missiles 122mm and 107mm Katyusha, made from Soviet Union, and 140mm China made for target Danang Air Base, but bitterly the yards just took snaps pictures, not authorized to destroy them? That why CIA hired montagnard tribe-men not our patriots Vietnamese like LLDB [Vietnamese Green Berets] Though disadvantage in operation, the CIA-funded Mountain Scouts penetrated Laos, however, these courageous but illiterate. Montagnard tribe-men could not comprehend map reading and couldn’t associate what they discovered with a recordable location. However the crucial purpose was that they are absolutely to obey CIA orders. Because this is a scam war-game for credit-interest of two super powers; instead of the sacrifice of both peoples in South and North. The tragedy initiated by U.S Company Dynasty. These 122mm rockets were the unwished gifts to Danang habitants who wouldn’t accept these gifts as a token of their scam. How long that last the protracted war was terminated? The mastermind of Averell Harriman and Bushes calculated in the secret-plan of crammed “Pennsylvania-Game” likely coaches that Kissinger was in position quarterback, and Donald Rumsfeld was linebacker.
Meanwhile U.S forces and South Vietnam forces have searching and killing enemy, in contrarily CIA protected them, and nurtured the war, except CIA, William Colby’s pro-government but not on the counterespionage side. Their goals might: U.S forces must having “combat-training”, and CIA concerned “American First”, welfare-imperialist? Between creditor and debtor: U.S and Soviet.
I must relax little bit, I let my copilot took control. For years as spy pilot experience, this area was nothing to snap, all the thick tri-canopies jungle without any human clue activities.
“You get it…and managed flown whatever Duncan and Nha could easier snap-photos”
I smiled and turned the control over to Hao. That’s O.K, as my copilot usually to fly little bit higher than me. “Oh no sweat, none eerie down there” I said. But too long I had no reservations about letting Hao fly the machine. He was not only a fanatic about mission preparation, but a damn good stick as well. Tomorrow I will check him out for become an Aircraft commander of Project-Delta force; the final test flight examination was “autorotation at night without landing light in the condition 30% moon-light.”
Abruptly, a flock about thousand parrots projected up from below foliages, few of them get kill by main rotor, theirs feathers bleeding dropped down on my windshield.
“You’re a wicked-wizard” I yelled high voice for pumped out the unrefined air staying too long in my lung, instead of should be taking new batch some another fresh pure air in the atmosphere. In the cockpit, I start a first cigarette of the day, I feel so exhausted, but maintained these precious moment to comfort myself. I remember today I forget say prayed as my wife often to remind me the must for every mission like read in check-list procedure before take off or landing.
The sun was shining and most of the fog had burned off. The big blades above were continued spinning created the monotonous sound, a dull uniformity. I would like go to my bed now! But how can. Yet in spite of my sometimes obsessive personality, for a special operations pilot who should have been at the point of the spear. I felt like I’d just had my wings clipped. At that very moment I was supposed to be flying a Queen Bee on a lightning raid into the heart of Oscar-Eight [559 Group headquarter] The brothers enemy were always trying to shot me down meanwhile I was just to defend the South Vietnam’s sovereignty. In fact we are not enemy, both of us from north and south, were really the “venal new-legions” by two super power of Soviet and U.S but neocolonialism both Communism and imperialism binding with their war production. They needed to resolve blowing-out in liquidation all delete war materials in this dumped-area. “Oh God, this axis of evil will not find a safe haven here!
Abrupt down-draft wind made me came back to reality, the river below us, there was Ben Giang and far east at right bank of river was Ben-Hien, there were a old French ‘out-post 6’ near to Laotian border to the ‘out-post Ro’ on the Route 14. The French built this route for explored timbers and intercepted in dissolution the revolution of Can-Vuong’s Revolution-Movement.
Today, we have the chances flying passed two revolution-movement’s cradles: one was at northeast Mt Coroc, north of DMZ, at Lap-Cap Pass. The King Ham-Nghi revolted-movement, there’re a cradle buried with jewel-gold; and below here, there was a smuggle traffic of opium and gold from Laos to Thuong Duc County.
Now, the terrain below us, with my spy flying experience, I must take the control and fly lower keeping farther the bank of river, and followed a small foot-path sometimes wider, and twist narrower. The ground level was easy up to slope appearing a big plot with a lot parallel furrows. On there were mixed in various vegetable, plus corn and potatoes, yucca casava…Under a big tree-shadow, some stored cargo-houses were there, I should be sure that there’re the NVA locations But the crop was the most evil state due to the flock of starving wild-parrot frequent food-attacked; even though there were having two scare-crows worn military uniforms but hungry parrots didn’t mind scared.
NVA’ units had excellent psychological-warfare forward to the montagnard tribe-men, so why they keep isolating far from montagnard neighboring; these terrains though at high level but so much evidences NVA’ activities, a small foot-path became wider road by setting down of thousands…thousand of a foot. Now the foot-path crossing by a ‘monkey-bridge’ (a bamboo-made bridge bound together by bamboo skin strings, they didn’t use nail down there. I was sure Duncan who never forgot took picture this bamboo bridge, clear enough with 35 meters high). Beyond the hill were numerous new-bamboo-houses located arrangement both-side of the small spring. There were easy to distinguish between house of tribeswomen and NVA. Because the houses of tribesmen were old and arranged on a village with I uniform shape, and the floor house above the ground level 7 feet, underneath they raised poultry, hogs, cattle…And they raised the crop specific only corn, or yucca cassava, or rows of sweet potatoes…They didn’t need to conceal them by camouflage.
Now we’re flown over a crop-plot of tribe-men. For thousands of years the montagnard had practiced the primitive agricultural technique of downing trees, then burning them to fortify the soil with ash; that’s only the fertile substance; they’d grow row crops there until they’d exhausted the nutrients, then move on and do it again, leaving a patchwork of squarish clearings at various stages of re-growth across the countryside. These snap-shots, Duncan should have explanation the differences between NVA and tribesmen row crop plots to Captain Richarson, operation executive officer.
The abandoned Chalang out post was deep in the intersection of creeks surrounded by grassy hills. I recalled in summer 1962, three unmarked H.34 that engaged operation “hit and run” at the first light of the day, were air-assault landing from three crest-ends of creek; three killer-teams had intent to capture NVA general Nguyen-Don but failed. After 7 minutes, we got a general NVA fatigues, one jean pant, and some condoms…my landing gear touch-down on the new unknown grave melee in row yucca cassava trees. Now, there was D-1 Binh-Tram [sanctuary], only about 20 miles northwest of Kham-Duc, where Laotian highway 165 almost reached the South Vietnamese border. In the northern of two recon-teams was authorized to operate in. Recently, the rockets and mortars pounding the Marine and Air Force installations at Danang, it was suspected, came from this D-1, Binh Tram [NVA troop sanctuary]
On 18, October American newspapers were reporting the 1st Air Cavalry Division’s violent clash with the NVA 66th and 33d Regiment in the Ia Drang Valley, the first major U.S ground combat of the war. But no one would read about the momentous, top-secret doings that day at Kham-Duc [Shining Brass] this is the first U.S in a very just “combat-training” according from the masterminded of wise-man A Harriman. Who knew his anticipation standpoint? And so why General Westmoreland managed the Vietnam’s War was uncertain of its objectives.
In front of us, a devastation-jungle appeared a grey-marshy road, few Molotova-Trucks in muddy stuck. Crowded peoples there, they unloaded from truck to buffalo-carts, beyond a bull-dozer with huge exhaust straight on the sky might stuck in the muddy too. From a red-road color stemming from many grey-mud-roads, we saw many tree-trunks emerged on marsh. Beyond the muddy, some Molotovas were proceeding very slowly with heavy loads to up slope, disappeared under the woods’ foliage shadow. We were swiftly flying over, no one having enough time for seeing our scared-faces, but I did think Duncan and Nha were so busy for their duties!
Now we were over an abandoned Dak-Prau out-post located at altitude 4.500 feet, at the left side near Laotian border, the highest mountain of the South Vietnam was Mt Ngoc-Linh at the top level (6200 feet) too many helicopters crashed over there due the high-velocity turbulent weather. I had two complete crew members of the elite-Queen-Bee were perishable crashed over there, included Master Sergeant Ralph-Reno, Staff Sergeant Donald Fawcett, and operational officer Captain Edwin McNamara. We found out all remains, except only Ralph Reno. Our chopper-pilots called “the Evil Triangle” over here.

QUEENBEE-1