We
often knew if an LZ or PZ was going to be hot before we arrived. Many times, we
were reinforcing a unit engaged in combat operations, or we were extracting
them as they attempted to break contact. Those pick ups were normally at the
end of the day as the sunlight was fading.
If
I remember correctly, I was flying in Chalk Eight, meaning I was at the end of
the flight. Our gunships were engaged, with the C&C directing the rocket
and minigun fire into the enemy positions. As we approached, I could see the
ruby tracers from both the gunships and the soldiers on the ground. Lots of
outgoing fire but I wasn’t seeing any green or white tracers, which didn’t mean
there wasn’t incoming. It could mean that the enemy wasn’t using any tracers and
I was sure that I could hear AKs firing somewhere.
As
we touched down, I saw a soldier kneeling near the two-foot-high rice patty
dike, firing into the tree line fifty or sixty yards away. While I’m sure
others were firing, I only remember seeing this one man.
Over
the radio, someone was talking about taking fire. And then another one said he
was taking hits. The man near the dike leaped to his feet and sprinted toward
the flight. I didn’t see him reach an aircraft because a lieutenant had
scrambled into the cargo compartment. He tapped me on the shoulder and shouted
something at me. I don’t know what he said because I couldn’t hear him over the
scream of the turbine and all the shooting going on. Most of it was our door guns
and gunships as the soldiers were disengaging.
About
that time there was a snapping to my right as an enemy round smashed through
the windshield. The lieutenant was suddenly laying on the cargo compartment
floor. The peter pilot said, “I’m not hit.”
Neither
was I.
Over
the radio I said, “Eight’s taking fire from the front.”
 |
| The bullet hole in the windshield. |
I
had no idea if the round came from the left or right. The lieutenant was now up
and the bullet had missed him as well.
Over
the radio, Trail said, “You’re down and loaded.”
“Lead’s
on the go.”
We
took off and broke right as we cleared the PZ. The climb out was uneventful. The
only shooting now was the gunships trying to protect us. They then quickly broke
contact.
Once
we were at altitude, heading for the LZ, C&C asked, “Who took hits?”
In
Chalk order, those who had taken hits reported them. When it came to me, I said,
“Chalk Eight.”
For
some reason C&C asked, “Are you sure?”
I
was surprised by the question and said, “Yes. It came through the windshield.”
When
we got back to Tay Ninh and had parked the aircraft after refueling, I found
other hits through the tail boom. In all the confusion, I hadn’t felt them
hitting the aircraft, but that might have been because we were sitting on the
ground. No one on my aircraft had been hit though.
Later,
while I was in the officer’s club, the Company Commander came up to me and
said, “I hear you’re the magnet.” He meant that if there was a round fired at
the flight, it would hit my aircraft. Of course, he knew that I have blown up a
helicopter on a land mine.
I
said, “I don’t think that’s fair.”
And
I don’t remember what his response was. All I know is that by July, I was the
only aircraft commander left in the First Platoon. They weren’t all casualties
of the war. Some had reached the end of their tours and had gone home. There had
been an aircraft accident. No one had been killed but several of them had been
wounded.
