The Fighting Augies
My Dad in the Vietnam War
By Maximillian Sterling
Chapter three
August 30, 1967
USS Columbia
1 day from in-chop on Dixie Station
VA-6 Ready Room
In-Chop briefing
noon
Dad and Andy signed for a pair of small steel boxes with pad locks on them with Danny Elsberry the ready room clerk and took their seats. The boxes contained an M1911 45 caliber pistol, one of the two issued weapons given to combat pilots who flew over Vietnam. The other was a 38 snub nose Magnum which most pilots kept locked in their room because they felt it just wasn't enough protection.
Some pilots got creative with the confines of their cockpits. Some had sawed off shotguns, one guy even had a World War II British Sten gun. Some pilots took hunting knives, hand grenades, brass knuckles. Looking at pictures of pilots in Vietnam, they looked as if they belonged with a gang of Mexican Bandits and not professional aviators.
The Skipper stood at his podium waving a hand..."Ok gentlemen, we don't want to waste the rest of the day. Some of you should get as much rest as you can because tomorrow morning we're going to be busy. We will be joining USS Midway in the Dixie box at 3am with the first launch scheduled for 6am. From there it's all sweat and stroke.
I want every man to write home tonight. Explain to the folks at home that we've arrived on station. Re-assure them that you will be alright, do your best to put them at ease. I must also impart to you the other letter you need to draft...time honored tradition of all fighting men...the letter you don't ever want delivered, the last letter. Think about getting one done soon. I'll be damned to hell though if I even think of losing any of my men so...don't make it easy for the reaper please?
That being said...where to begin? What's our tasking for the next sixty days in Dixieland?"
Commander Shaffell pulled down a map of South Vietnam...
"The blue box is Midway's responsibility. Ours is the red box from Tay Ninh in the west to Saigon and Vung Tau in the South. Cam Rah Bay on the East and Ban Thou in the North. We will provide air support to the ground forces operating in this box along with our own Air Force and that of the South Vietnamese. We will be doing both sea and land intradiction missions over the Mekong Delta and the Ho Che Minh trail that runs through Ban Thou to An Loc. There are major operations planned between the ARVAN (Army of South Vietnam) The Republic of Korea Marines (aka The Rhakasans or ROCK Marines) and the Army and Marine Corps for the first part of September. The ROK Marines already got their start early with Operation Mighty Tiger in the Ban Thou region. ROK Marine Major Han Lee Jin is our GCFO (Ground Combat Flight Officer) point of contact for air support. The man is good at his job, the NVA hate his fucken guts. If you get his call for support, don;t waste time getting there."
"You can expect light to some medium caliber "triple A" in this region but it's mostly low crew served weapons. Don't kid yourselves; the NVA are as good with their machine guns as their SAMs and they are excellent in fire discipline so it will be very hard to suck them into a shot that would give them away under the canopy. Keep in mind that you only need a few steel rounds sucked into an intake to ruin an engine so keep your time low over the deck as short as you can. The NVA and Cong have tried shifting their operations, movements and assaults to night time but the A-6's of the Arabs off the Midway have been giving them hell. We're going to start our in-chop with daytime flights for about a week just so you all get acclimated to the region. After that? Our time will be where it should be... at night and in poor weather. CTF (Commander Task Force) 77 has kept the Intruders flights in bad weather very sparse for a reason. That advantage will come in handy should the NVA decide to do something all out against the South and most likely they will use the weather to their advantage since most of our jets suck at poor weather attack."
Saffell stopped talking and looked around the room. "That's it for the in chop briefing. First operations flight briefing will be at 6am tomorrow morning. Welcome to Indian Country gentlemen and please do not forget to strip and check those "Red Riders" you all just checked out. You definitely do not want to go into a fight without a working pistol."
Dad and Andy walked out of the room with LCDR Robert Dybdhaul, LT Tony Gurrero, LT Jim Riggert and LTJG Marty Millar to go to the officer's mess room before heading back to their staterooms...
"I'm not going to be able to sleep." Marty Millar said.
"Hmph...my B/N saying he won't sleep yet watch this guy when we pull tanker duty." Riggert said. "You need a fire under his ass to keep him awake."
"The South is really nothing difficult." Bob said. "I haven't been up North yet and I've done two combat tours before this with A-4's."
"How do you manage to pull time here without going North?" Dad asked John.
"You send in a request to det to Da Nang to support the Marines. With them you do a ton of "Milk run" missions with no real danger and wrack up the pay stubs. That's how I bout the wife her new car. But forget putting in a request now since the Marines will start getting land based Intruders this summer with VMA-242 out of Yuma."
"So aren't you due to rotate soon Bob?" Dad asked as the group entered the officer's mess.
"Not till we're back home." Dybdhaul replied. "I put in my dream sheet next week. So far? Maintenance Officer spot or Intruder program head in D.C. because the cockpit is getting old and I'm not 23 and full of cum like I used to be."
Marty snickered. "Gee...that was nicely descripted."
"Don't laugh." Rob huffed. "I've tried for another kid to add to my collection but I think I'm blowing dust bunnies."
The men laughed as they got their food from the chow line and sat at a table...
"So with the jungle canopy here being so thick as it is?" Andy asked Bob Dybdhaul. " Any tips on approaches and deliveries?"
Bob replied. "Your best bet is Rockeye cluster bombs. Plot a set of three at 140 milliseconds time release except for around the Cu Chi plain Northwest of Saigon. Rockeyes are pointless. The Cong and the NVA have turned Cu Chi into "prairie dog ville". They learned how to tunnel from the Japanese and they're good at it too. Over Cu Chi you come in at a 50 degree dive angle with Mark 82's or Mark 83's. Release at 8000 feet. Have the ordies time delay a rack of six before you go so the bombs explode after they depress into the dirt otherwise? You won't touch those guys."
Andy pulled out his green note book and joted a page full of notes.
Jim Riggertt took a swig of his coffee..."8,000 feet the standard release height?"
"For slicks yeah. For snakes it's around 5,000 at full throttle. Don't go below 5,000 feet unless you know the grunts have the target supressed. The Cong and NVA do have medium caliber cannons and they're damn good shooters. I've had my radar blown to shit three times by rounds ripping through my nose. They don't try to shoot you down but if they can da
mage your plane so its' taken out of circulation? That's a win for them by a mile."
Dad stood up and excused himself as he finished his dinner. "I'm going to my room to retire. Andy? What time do you want me to get you for tomorrow morning?"
"4am." Andy replied. "I want to get the pastry and coffee while they're fresh. Must have the traditional breakfast before war."
Suddenly...an ensign, obviously quite young, walked up wringing his hands in a sign of worry..."Excuse me Sirs? Did any of you happen to see a stuffed Eagle sitting in here?"
Dad look at everyone else. "Nope...sorry Ensign Keller."
"Fuck." The man said as he nerviously walked off.
"What's his problem?" Dad asked Bob.
"Don't tell me you've been in this man's navy for so long and you don't know? Shame on you Kevin. Are you a fucken wog too." Bob replied.
"I have your wog." Dad replied as he checked his package. "What's his problem?"
"Sigh...that is obviously the ship's bull ensign." Bob snickered. "A ship's Bull ensign is given the very important task of taking care of the ship's bull mascott...sed stuffed animal. Woe be it to the ensign who allows bull mascott to wander away. All kinds of things could happen to the unfortunate stuffy...sexual violation? Debauchery? Unauthorized leave from his duty station? Wracking up bar fines and prostitutes in Subic? Getting pictures taken in Moscow, Havana or...Ho Che Minh's house in Hanoi."
To prove his point. John walked over to a book rack, pulled out a Naval Proceedings magazine and flashed a picture before the assembled officers. It was a stuffed tiger with a USS Oriskany ball cap being firmly snuggled by one of Ho Che Minh's granddaughters.
"Holy shit." Andy snorted. "How did that happen?"
"Ensign Dwight Ford of the Oriskany off Tiger Island North Vietnam. Lucky bastard slipped off the deck and into the drink and refused to let go of the mascott. He got picked up by a North Vietnamese gunboat and the crew couldn't understand why a grown man would hold on so tightly to a stuffed animal. They got the Tiger. They turned Dwight over to the International Red Cross because they considered him too mentally unstable to be a useful POW."
Everyone laughed then broke up for their staterooms. The stuffed animal tradition still holds though. We give it to the youngest officer in the command which they promptly lose it and end up paying a hefty paycheck fine to a favorite charity.
August 30, 1967
USS Columbia
7pm
8 hours from in-chop to Dixie Station.
Dear Cin,
We're here now off South Vietnam and begin flight operations and patrols in the morning. You and Keith are in my thoughts every moment and I'll be taking my picture up with me when I start flying. I don't want you too worry. Between Andy and the guys who've been here before, I'm getting a good education for what's coming up. We won't be flying missions over North Vietnam for a few weeks at the least depending on how the people in Washington handle negotiations. I will be careful and avoid doing anything risky unless the situation calls for it and it would have to be a very dire situation which trust me...I'm not going to be looking for it and anyway... Andy would kill me.
Keith? I hope you're being the man I asked you to be and are minding your mother and behaving yourself. I promise I'll bring something nice back for you after I'm done with the work out here. The first thing you and I will do is go to Dairy Queen and get sick with ice cream.
It will be over soon and I'll be on my way home in no time. Love you both.
"Daddy"
Dad put the letter in the envelope then sat quietly with his thoughts until John Mackee tapped his metal bunk frame...
"Hey? You better get some sleep. Trust me, this is just a normal "Milk Run" mission tomorrow but you need to be bright and bushy so you and Andy don't have "marital issues".
"Hard when my brains running like crazy." Dad replied. "Been stoking up for this all my life you know? It's part of the blood. My Grandfather talked about his cherry mission, he got only 30 minutes of snooze time."
John swung himself around till his feet dangled off the upper bunk. "Well at least try to get some sleep because you're one of my two wing man and I'll be damned if I have to put up with your groggy complaining ass on my radio for two hours over the beach. And don't get any ideas using "No-Doze" pep pills? They leave you worse off than before."
A knock at the door got Dad turning and there stood Andy Mescado...
"I can't sleep." Andy said.
John huffed..."Oh what the fuck is this? Summer camp? B/N's are not supposed to have stress...get in here?"
Andy closed the door as John hopped from his rack and went to his locker. "Now you're both going to shut up about this. I have just the remedy for your insomnia."
John pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and a set of shot glasses. "Drink this."
Dad took a glass and cocked his head. "What's this?"
"What do you think it is?" John replied.
Andy gave his a sniff. "This can't be moonshine."
"I said...who the fuck cares? Drink it both of you."
Dad put his down..."We're too close to mission briefing."
John got right in his face. "Mister Sterling? If you don't drink that glass, I will call the boys from the Line Shack to come in here and feed you that fucken glass up the black hole of space and trust me...It won't be an oddessy...you dig?"
Dad took the shot and cringed..."Ugh!...Gnah!...That was aweful."
"Yup...which means it will work." John said as he climbed back into his rack. "Mister Mescado? I think you need to get to your stateroom before you're making love to my deck."
August 31, 1967
USS Columbia
5am
Flight briefing for the first launch of the day
Dad stumbled through the door of the ready room with his flight gear in hand and stopped to hold his brain from shooting out of his skull...
Behind him...Andy was no better. "Ugh...I think I got food poisoning boss."
John Mackee walked in with a big grin of self-pleasure on his face..."Good morning gentlemen..."
"Fuck you." Dad replied.
"Bite me with respect Lieutenant Commander" Andy snarled.
"It will pass quickly once you start huffing fresh Oh Two (Oxygen) but at least you both slept well. Trust me, you'll be thankful when we're airborne.
Dad and Andy were going with John and Andy Hoover on a "three ship" CAS (Close Air Support) mission over South Vietnam. John and his B/N Ensign Ken Whitaker were the lead. They took their seats as Marvin Long, the Squadron Operations Officer, started his briefing...
Ram Flight Alpha 01
Launch : 0700
Recovery : 1030
LT John Mackie / ENS Ken Whitaker 505
LT Kevin Sterling / LTJG Andrew Mescado 503
LT Andy Hoover / LTJG Rodney Haldi 508
"Good morning gentlemen, welcome to Vietnam. We are currently steaming with USS Midway in Dixie Station, the weather reports are in the papers you've been given. You are a three ship flight assigned Combat Ground Support between Ci Chi and Tai Nin North and Northeast of Saigon. You will be supporting a battalion of ARVAN (South Vietnamese Army) backed up by a battalion of the 9th Marines who are conducting search and sweep operations through four villages and the Cho Cho river valley. It is believed the Viet Cong have several supply cashes along that stretch of the Cho Cho."
Marvin stopped to look at Dad. "Mister Sterling? Didn't you get enough sleep?"
Dad waved his hand..."Nah...Lieutenant Commander Mackee snores like a train Sir but I'll be alright."
"It's typical newbie jitters Marvin." John replied. "I tried to help the Lieutenant to ease his stomach...obviously a troublesome thing. Continue..."
Marvin turned back to his map. "The topography is depressed down to 25 feet BSL (Below Sea Level) up to 150 feet ABL (Above Sea Level) Each Intruder will be armed with Mark 82, 500 pound slicks and Mark 20 Rockeyes. If you require a fuse change on any bombs? You better call it out now because they are loading right now."
Dad raised his hand and asked for a radio which Dan Elsberry quickly handed him. "I've set the switch for Chief Boyer Sir."
"Thanks Dan." Dad replied. "Chief Boyer? Lieutenant Sterling, 503 you copy?"
"Chief Boyer Sir." The ordinance chief replied.
"Chief? I'd like to have one rack of Mark 82's fused with sub-surface contact pressure fuses if you may?" Dad then stopped to look at Marvin. "What's the topgraphy of the Cu Chi region? Soil composition?"
Marvin replied. "Expect it to be marsh and sand for the most part in the river region. Soft clay in the forest and jungle growth."
Dad nodded and clicked the radio. "Chief? Mix bag the fuses? Plot em between one and two foot delay."
"Aye Aye Sir!" The Chief smartly replied.
"Nice Sterling." Marvin said nodding. "Thinking ahead. Someone told you about the tunnels huh?"
"My grandfather suspected all the gophers around the house to be communists. He made his own exlosives. Blew up the tool shed one time, launched it into space."
Marvin chuckled back..."Alright...so upon launch and rendevous, you will proceed to handover under Air Force ops in Saigon. Over the beach proceed to the holding point above Cu Chi at 20,000 feet. You will have two flights of three skyhaks at 15,000 and a BARCAP (Barrier Combat Air Patrol) of F-4's at 25,000 feet. Leave the aggressive dive bombing and straffing to the Scooters (A-4 Skyhawks) if called by the ground controller or the Air Force spotting loach plane, you will conduct level attack between 7,400 and 7,500 feet. The opposition may have some medium caliber cannons, twenty Mils, but mostly small arms so stay above 5000 feet on approach and departure of the target."
The Air Force spotter plane is "Nancy One", the Vietnamese ground ASO is unclear, they change constantly...because the NVA and the Viet Cong seem very good at taking out the radio and the men attached to it. Marine ASO is Captain Mullans "Moose One"
"Be advised concerning the ARVN controllers and aware of your ground layout. We are to avoid "fragging" villages if at all possible and the ARVN seem to have no problem "rocking" your average village. If the ARVN call brings a potential to drop on a village without a clear and unavoidable threat? Do not follow their call."
"Divert fields is Da Nang the primary and Tan Sun Naught the secondary. That's all. Have a nice first day in country and listen to everything Mister Mackee tells you."
Dad and Andy got to their feet just as John came walking up with two cups of steaming hot something in his hands...
"Oh no..." Andy snorted. "You fucked me once already."
John smirked as he held out the cups. "Trust me...this will clear you guys up quickly. Ginsing tea is always a good cure for a slight hang over."
Dad pursed his lips. "You're a fucken witch doctor."
"But you're going to love flying with me, trust me." John replied as he blinked an eye and made a pistol with his hand.
August 31, 1967
USS Columbia
7am
Flight Quarters, first launch of the day.
Dad and Andy sat in 503 setting things up after checking the plane out with the plane captain. The A-6 had six 500 pound bombs on the belly rack, Two fuel tanks on the inboard stations and six cluster bombs on the outboard wing stations. The Rockeyes were called APAM (Anti-personel / Anti-Mechanized) Munitions. Each white bomb had peanut like shells held together with spring bands that were set to break apart at a certain altitude and bomb the ground with softball sized bombs that turned everything around them into hamburger... that's everything which is quite a messy casorole.
By now...Dad was feeling better after he'd huffed some pure oxygen and shaken off the stupor from the poison John fed him the night before. Andy still looked a little pale... stopping briefly from setting up his side of the cockpit to almost puke off the side of the canopy rail...
"You...gonna make it Andy?" Dad asked.
"I'll manage. I'm worried of not thinking strait." Andy replied. "I think I'll be over it by the time we're up and level."
Dad ran through his radio check..."Number one? (John Mackee) you up?"
"Affirmative." John replied.
"Ram Three up?" Dad asked Andy Hoover.
"Loud and clear." Andy Hoover replied.
Dad went through the starting procedures, closed the canopy and soon the Intruder was screaming down the bow and climbing into the air with the Columbia behind and the Midway turning into the wind on the right to launch her first planes of the day. They were less than twenty miles off the coast of South Vietnam so the flight to the holding point above the Cu Chi region was about 5 minutes. Once there the three Intruders would have sufficient fuel to stay in their holding patten a good four hours yet the mission was cushioned to ensure they had fuel to get somewhere in case some lucky shooter on the ground punched out fuel tanks.
August 31, 1967
Ram Flight 01
7:45am
15,000 feet and 20 miles from Cu Chi
The three Intruders joined up wing tip to wing tip with John Mackee taking the lead and Dad and Andy Hoover on each side.
John called over the radio. "Stores check. Two?"
Dad replied. " twelve Rockeyes and Six slick 500 pound 32's with delay subsurface impact fuses.
Andy Hoover replied. "Eighteen slick 500 pound 32's with standard fuses."
John replied. "And I'm carrying six slick 82's with sub-surface fuses. Six Rockeyes and six 82's with standard fuses. Here's the short list...Hoover, you're close contact support for the grounders since you have all the 82's with standard fuses. Myself and 503 will handle bunkers and flankers who try to sneek around our grunts. Hoover, you drop em by twos and threes to make yourself last out. Hold one rack of six back in case things get hot and heavy for the grunts. Things work here pretty simple; I handle all the coms between us three and the Air Force Loach and Saigon. Keep the chatter down when we get overhead and keep ears open for what I tell you. You both understand?"
"Affirm." Andy Hoover replied.
"Set." Dad replied.
"Alright." John said. "Since we're all nice and tucked in with our popcorn? Let's start the movie..." John flipped his radio over. "Saigon Center, Saigon Center...Ram One calling in feet dry for CAS. Request channel for Air Force OSP (Overhead Spotter Plane) "Nancy One" over?"
"Ram One, Saigon Center. Squalk (call) Nancy One on "Two, two, Oh over" Saigon Center replied.
John flipped his radio switches..."Nancy One, Nancy One...Ram One calling inbound to holding at 20k, TOT (Time on Top) 5 Mike (5 Minutes) state conditions over?"
"Ram One, Nancy One...good morning over Cu Chi. Conditions clear. Ground units are making slow progress to the Northeast. Currently 300 yards South of Phoc Hoi (Pock Hoy) village spread wide at 50 yards. No funny business as of yet over."
John replied. "Nancy One...Ram One No funny business is a good thing. Who else is holding?"
"Ram One, Nancy One...currently awaiting arrival of scooters. Phantoms on top at 25K." The loach replied.
Dad looked over at Andy as he scribbled information on his map that was affixed to the kneeboard that was fastened around leg. "You working those math problems?" Dad asked.
"Just coming up with potentials ahead of time boss. Don't break my concentration ok?" Andy replied.
"Oh?...So you're finally out of the stupor?" Dad replied smirking.
"Shut up and drive?" Andy snorted back. "I don't feel like ejecting because you rear ended El-Cad-ar's plane."
August 31, 1967
2nd Company, 2nd Battalion, 9th US Marines
7:47am
Phoc Hoi Village
2nd Company Commander, Marine Lieutenant Ardel Jones, stood with a Vietnamese translator as they met with the three eldest men of Phoc Hoi Village which was about 30 miles East of Tay Ninh. The 2/2/9 Marines were "Saddled" with a Marine company to their West with each company towing two Republic of Vietnam army companies on their sides. Jones was looking at his map and asking his interpreter...
"Ask them about Cong activity. Do they know anything?" Jones said. His smaller companion conversed in Vietnamese then turned back to Jones...
"He says "blink blink" there are no Cong here. "Blink, blink, blink" The old elder said no for a good reason. Yes the Cong were here and yes they could be really close. Jones called for his radioman and took the "hook" (phone) from him...
"Scabby? Jones." Ardel was calling the commander of the other Marine Company. "Scabby? Comply?"
"Scabby here. What up Ardel?" Lieutenant Scott "Scabby" Nichols replied.
"The village elders tell us there is no Vietcong activity in this local. He does have a smoking hot daughter though." Jones said.
"Smoking hot daughter" was of course the code for..."They are among us."
"In that case..." Scabby replied. "Maybe we should take up an invitation?" meaning everyone was going hot weapon wise. Vietnam was a war where uniforms were not exactly the "in fashion" thing among the Communists. You didn't know who was telling the truth but in this case the elders of the village were loyal enough to chance ratting out the local Vietcong (The "VC" for short) the way they did it meant that there were Cong intertwined with the villagers which made this situation a potential nightmare.
August 31, 1967
Nancy One
7:49am
Air Force spotting loach plane over Phoc Hoi
"Nancy to Kentuky Derby, Nancy to Kentucky Derby (Kentucky Derby meaning all the ground support planes coasting high over Phoc Hoi) Grunts in Phoc Hoi report a smoking hot daughter. For the newbies that means possible strong contact with VC in and around the village. Stand by..."
August 31, 1967
7:50 am
John Mackee "Ram flight one" leader.
"You heard that? Keep your ears open and the coffee chat down. If the shit starts, they will send in the Scooters first. See if we can suck out a large force to maul." John said to the other two pilots.
August 31, 1967
7:51 am
Dad and Andy in Ram 503
"Rodger" Dad replied as he flipped the auto-pilot switch to "on" and pulled a map from his flight suit pants pouch...
Dad pulled out a marker and scribbled over the portion of the map where Phoc Hoi village was...
"What do you think Andy? Those clumps of jungle growth and that destroyed village to the North?" Dad asked Andy and clicked his radio. "Hey John?"
"What's up?" John Mackee asked.
"I think we should watch the jungle line to the Northwest of the village about 100 yards off...the one due North at 70 yards off and the one to the Northwest and West about 80 yards off. There's also that destroyed village of Xom Boi (Am Boy) 200 yard to the North." Dad said as he looked down on his side of the cockpit at the ground with Andy leaning over...
"I'm thinking the one's due north Boss. The one to the West is surrounded by rice patties. Way to easy to get chewed up if they try to cross that." Andy said.
Dad pursed his lips. "Set up a pair of Rockeyes...just in case shit starts to happen."
"Yup..." Andy replied as he sat back in his seat and began to select the cluster bombs. "Two in the bull pen boss."
Dad took a deep breath and looked at the map again before putting it into his pocket. "You working on solutions already?" He asked Andy.
"Need you even think?" Andy replied.
August 31, 1967
2nd Company, 2nd Battalion, 9th US Marines
7:56 am
Phoc Hoi Village
Ardel Jones passed the word along the line of four companies that ran left, center and right of the village then turned to his interpreter..."Let's pull back a little, make it look like we have no interest here, see what they'll do."
To the left of Phoc Hoi, Marine Sargent Major Zack Kerry was putting his boot to the ass of a few inatentive vietnamese. "Do you want to get your fool heads blown off? Get low and pull back!...Sook Yaw Ban Loy!" He yelped in crude Vietnamese as a Marine crouched by him...
"Gee Smash...you'll be running an Asian meat market in no time huh?" The young Marine hadn't finished speaking before a crack snapped through the air and his head exploded in a red mist!"
"OH FUCK! DOWN! DOWN! DOWN! TAY YONG! TAY YONG!"
August 31, 1967
2nd Company, 2nd Battalion, 9th US Marines
7:58 am
Phoc Hoi Village
Ardel kissed the dirt along with the rest of his company as another crack went through the air and a Marine spun behind a hut as a bullet tore through one of the support posts! "SIR! SNIPER!"
"Do you see him Corperal?!" Ardel asked the man as he recovered into a crouch.
"No Sir but he's fricken close though...bet about 70 yards!" The Marine replied as Ardel turned for his radioman...
"Nancy...Nancy this is Kennel Two (Kennel Two call sign for the 9th Marines) we've taken fire from a sniper to our front. Due north of the village. One man down. Target location not known. You will be advised. Expect more coming so be ready."
"Kennel Two, Nancy copy." The Air Force Loach replied. "Kentucky Derby this is Nancy. Grunts are taking fire from a sniper. Colts stand by (Colts-A-4 Skyhawks) Morgans hold (Morgans, A-6 Intruders)
August 31, 1967
7:59 am
Dad and Andy in Ram 503
"John? I smell a sucker punch coming. My guess it will be from the jungle patch due North. Closest sprint point to the Village do you copy?" Dad said as he banked tight so he could see more of the village and the ground.
"Wow Sterling...you've haven't been in country five minutes and you're acting like a General?" John replied.
"I read a lot of books. Most my intel comes from National Geographic." Dad replied. "Call it a hunch if they're right about the Vietcong's behavior."
"Told you Kevin studied Freud." Andy snickered at Dad. "He says I have a split personality."
August 31, 1967
2nd Company, 2nd Battalion, 9th US Marines
7:59 am
Phoc Hoi Village
The young marine Corperal broke into a sprint and a bullet cracked by his head as he slid across the gap between huts and almost crashed into Ardel..."Holy shit you dumb ass! Are you trying to get killed?"
The Corperal recovered. "Just trying to sucker that prick out of the grass Sir! I got a good idea where he's at too. About 75 years...5 or so degrees to the left of my finger."
Ardel shook his head. "Can't afford to drop on one guy."
Suddenly the sounds of clanging metal coud be heard and the first barrage of mortar shells slammed into the village!
"Can we afford it now?!" The Corperal yelped.
August 31, 1967
Nancy One
8:00 am
Air Force spotting loach plane over Phoc Hoi
"Nancy One! Kennel Two...we are taking mortar fire on our posititons! Grid Two, Three. Center and Low...I say again...Grid Two, Three...Center and Low! Request mark and strike!" Ardel's voice cracked over the radio.
"Rodger Kennel Two...Nancy coming down to mark with Green smoke rockets, strike to follow on." The Loach pilot replied. "Kentucky Derby...Nancy inbound to mark a target. Colts watch for the mark in green and follow through."
The Loach radio cracked in reply..."Rodger Nancy One...Dragon Leader (A-4 fligth leader) inbound to your smoke with two ships with 250 pounds and Nape (Nape = Napalm or jelly gas bombs)
August 31, 1967
8:05 am
Dad and Andy in Ram 503
Dad and Andy watched as the loach plane launched a pair of smoke rockets into the patch of jungle north of the Village followed quickly by three A-4 Skyhawks making bombing and straffing runs with high explosives and napalm.
"If these guys are smart? They broke their tubes (tubes=Mortars) down and ran like hell." Dad said. "All their doing is sucking out our ordinance." Dad said to Andy.
"Wow..." Andy replied. "National Geographic being accurate, amazing."
August 31, 1967
2nd Company, 2nd Battalion, 9th US Marines
8:08 am
Phoc Hoi Village
The radioman patted Ardel's shoulder as the airstrike slammed into the jungle cover north of the Village..."Sir! 3/3/9 skipper (2nd Company, 2nd Battalion, 9th US Marines commanding officer) reporting heaviler stuff coming down among the ARVN 2/3/5 and his company!" The radio man paused to listen to the words coming through his headphones...
"Grid three, one...Center and high from the Jungle cover!"
August 31, 1967
Nancy One
8:10 am
Air Force spotting loach plane over Phoc Hoi
"Rodger Kennel Two...Ram One...I have a heavy for you. I will be shooting smoke orange at Grid three, one...Center and high and follow on...copy?"
August 31, 1967
8:05 am
Dad and Andy in Ram 503
Ram three, Ram one. You are out of the bull pen. Nancy is popping Orange smoke, identify and execute over?"
"Affirm execute." Dad said calmly as he banked his intruder down and out of the holding pattern on a long arc that would give him a good strait line to the target. "Nancy, Ram Three I have your smoke. Turning on the I.P. (Initial run-in point) and stepping into attack. Ram Three is in hot!"
Andy worked over the computer sitting between his legs, rapidly entering the altitude, speed and drift factors to set up the Intruder's automatic release system. "Set! Going into bombs, two Rockeyes up and your pickle is hot!"
"Good tone." Dad replied as he could hear the steady audible tone that told him the Intruder was flying true to the attack point. Once the tone "broke" or stopped, Dad would drop two Rockeye cluster bombs on the worked out target strike point the DIANE system had computed. For a plane that had even less computing power than an Apollo space capsule, the Intruder was deadly accuate when the whole DIANE system worked perfectly; which in Vietnam was a treasured rarity. 503's computer system was working great this time out.
Streaks of yellow flashed by the nose of the Intruder which told Dad the force oppsing the Marines was a good size and well equipped, yet his eyes remained fixed firmly on the VDI (Visual Display Instrument) on his side of the cockpit as a white ball at the bottom of the screen begane to climb upwards to meet the stearing box in the center of the screen. When they met, the tone would break and the Rockeyes would be on their way.
"Seven Five Zero (7500) and steady!" Dad said into the ICS. "Steady...steady... HACK!"
As Dad mashed the red button on his control stick (the "pickle" switch) an electrical signal flowed into the rack holding the six Rockeye bombs, initiated a firing sear pin, which struck the back of a ten millimeter explosive cartridge, which fired the shell, which unlocked the bomb from the rack and forced a plunger against the bomb's shell, which threw the Rockeyes from the rack in a staggered release so they would spread a wider pattern of destruction."
Banking hard right and up, Dad and Andy watched as the cluster bombs broke apart about 500 feet above the impact point and their deadly cargo of softball sized bomblets spread out in a wide oblong cover pattern, their explosions marked by visably distrubed jungle growth, shreaded folliage and several secondary explosions which meant the bomblets had set off ammunition on the ground!
"Nancy One, Ram Three has secondary explosions!" Dad said to the Air Force loach.
"Confirm on that Ram Two." Nancy Two replied.
August 31, 1967
2nd Company, 2nd Battalion, 9th US Marines
8:12 am
Phoc Hoi Village
"Scabby here. What up Ardel?" Lieutenant Scott "Scabby" Nichols on Ardel Jone's left flank replied to the radio call as Jones heard the cluster bombs exploding.
"Scab?" We'll fix the right flank here if you and the ARVN demonstrate forward a few yards. Let's see if we can sucker the Cong into an attack." Ardel grabbed the Corperal. "Find Sargent Major Lovine and tell him to spread the word between us and the Vietnamese on our end of the line...dig in along the ville and hold positions, the left flank is going to move forwards. Expect an attack."
"Got it!" The Corperal replied. He then peaked around the corner of the hut they were hiding behind and bolted across the clear space to another hut..."That sniper might be a little spooked Sir!"
"Might be that your skinny Kentucky ass doesn't appeal to him!" Ardel replied.
August 31, 1967
8:16 am
Dad and Andy in Ram 503
"Nice delivery Sterling." John Mackee called by radio. "Heads up, the grunts are going to go forwards on their left flank and see if the Cong want to play football. I doubt it."
Dad leveled his plane back to cruising altitude and checked his fuel gauge..."We have about 90 minutes of fuel before we have to return to the boat. That's around oh...Oh Nine Four Five am (0945 am) departure time."
"90 minutes should be enough to see if they want to press their luck. My guess is they retreated and went underground." John said as his Intruder slide up on Dad's right wing.
Andy meanwhile was looking at his map again...
"Boss? They could attack the South Vietnamese unit? Snipe em or a mortar rush." Andy said.
"That's if they want to die." Dad replied. "So long as they keep taking "little pock shots" and short bursts, there really won't be a need to call in air strikes. That is if our grunts don't get too stupid and go bat out of hell for the jungle cover."
Dad looked on the map where the village of Xom Mai once stood to the North of Phouc Hoi..."Ram lead this is three? Is anyone looking at Xom Mai right now?"
John replied. "Let me find out. Why? You got an itchy trigger finger feeling?"
"The Viet Cong don't work far from a base of supply and storage right?" Dad asked.
"That's their M.O." John said. "But they swept that village months ago and raised it."
"Raised on the ground yeah." Dad said. "But what about under it? Did they look for tunnels?"
"I'll ask and see what I find out." John replied. "For now...just keep busy and wait."
August 31, 1967
third Company, 1st Battalion, 9th US Marines
9am
left flank and moved forwards 75 yards from Phoc Hoi Village
Lieutenant Scott "Scabby" Nichols grabbed the hand set from his radioman. "We're going to stay here for now Ardel. Nothing so far.
"Watch your back in case they try a sneak around." Ardel Jones replied.
"I dunno about that." Scabby said as he scanned the land behind him. "It's wide open out here a good 150 yards around. They try to flank us out here and they'll be mulch."
August 31, 1967
9:02 am
Dad and Andy in Ram 503
John returned on the radio. "Ram Three? There is no information that deffnative on the village being searched for tunnels. What's your plan?"
Dad replied..."Well?...let me low buzz the village like I'm going to bomb it and see if the Viet Cong start shooting like crazy."
Andy gave Dad a face as if he was crazy..."You wanna fucken what?"
"Oh come on Andy? What happens when you wear a colored shirt near a hornet's nest?" Dad replied.
"Last time I remember boss? I didn't exactly go looking to get stung in my ass?" Andy snorted back.
John came back..."Let me get this right Kevin? You want to buzz Xom Mai at low level?"
"It's simple John." Dad replied. "Three things will happen. If its important to them? They'll shoot like crazy. If they don't shoot then they're smart as hell. If they don't shoot then there's nothing there. But if there is something there and we tag it? They will run like hell because the store got shut down. Simple."
Andy snorted. "Simple my ass. Sometimes Boss? You're a fucken lunatic."
"You don't fly with me to be board all day." Dad snickered. "John? Is it a deal?"
"It's against my better judgement roomie but if you think it'll work and give our ground guys an advantage then play through." John replied.
Andy reflexively snatched a Jesus handle on the canopy frame as Dad cranked the throttles and kicked the Intruder into a dive for the deck at 400 knots!
"Andy? You want to put your tongue back in your mouth and plot me an inbound?" Dad asked as he leveled out at 500 feet moving away from Xom Mai to the Northwest.
Andy quickly went through the calculations, rapidly tapped on his computer keys and point to Dad's VDI. "Turn into the IP (Initial point) in three minutes, come 180 degrees inbound at 090 and for God's sakes don't get us killed?!"
Dad watched the VDI screen as the I.P. Point marched towards the course marker and when they met he pulled on the control stick, kicked at the rudder pedals and the armed Intruder climbed and rolled into the sky, flipped onto its' back, rolled back upright and was now screaming towards Xom Bai at 513 miles per hour.
Down below in the jungle canopy and the clearing where the destroy village was, the Viet Cong could clearly see the bomber coming right down their throats! Panic or precission, they cut loose a furious flow of bullets to try and throw the plane off target!
"FUCK!" Andy snapped as tracers flew by the canopy and the sounds of a few "smacks" made their way into his ears even with all the padding in his helmet..."We've been hit! Son of a bitch this was a fucked up idea!"
Dad put the A-6 into a vertical climb and rolled it around to escape the trailing fire as he scanned his warning lights and instruments. "Doesn't look like they hit any vitals! Shit they got some heavy guns down there don't they?"
"You think Boss?!" Andy snapped back. "Fuck! 20 and 30 mills at the least!"
Dad called John Mackee. "John? Seems reaction number one was correct. I need a look over, I think I took some hits and my B/N shit himself."
Dad made it to cruising altitude where John's A-6 quickly formed up next to him and started to slowly fly a cricle around 503 to see if anything had been hit. You have to say the Intruder was a well engineered attack plane to say nothing of being tough; it had to be given how it was intended to be used. Very few of our Veritech pilots as I said before would even consider going "up and personal" in the style of attack Dad and his fellow Intruder pilots did in Vietnam. Yet the plane could get shot full of holes and still somehow make it back home. As John flew around Dad's plane he found four big hits; one through the vertical tail, one imbedded in an armor plate on the left inboard wing, another through the canopy nose and another through a flap on the right wing...
"Still flyable Kevin. But I would be careful with that hole in the flap." John said with a wave from his cockpit.
"Good." Dad replied. "Now give me permission to plaster the village with my six pentration bombs?"
Andy was shaking his head.
"At a safe altitude." Dad said as he looked at Andy. "Gonna need to drop high to get em good and deep before they explode."
John thought for a moment. "Ok then...I see where this is going. Let me call Nancy Two so we can give the grunts a heads up. If you nail it right? The rabbits are going to be coming out from all over the place in a panic."
August 31, 1967
2nd Company, 2nd Battalion, 9th US Marines
9:24am
Phoc Hoi Village
"Kennel Two this is Nancy One...Ram Three is going to execute a strike on Xom Bai village. Depending on the outcome of the hit, standby to exploit forward assault with air cover on my call over."
"Rodger Nancy One...Kennel Two complies." Ardel Jones called Scott "Scabby" Nichols on his left flank. "Scabby? They're going to slam Zom Bai village. They think if its' a good hit, the Cong will start running like hell...get ready to advance on my call over?"
"Ready and willing." Nichols replied.
August 31, 1967
9:24 am
Dad and Andy in Ram 503
Andy tapped over his computer again, threw a few switches and set the master arm button to "pickle hot"..."Course is set, inbound is set, height is set, speed is set, time is good, your pickle's hot and my pants are wet...thanks a lot you ass hole."
Dad chuckled. "Good to know I have a loving cockpit relationship going here." Slowly in a wide arcing turn...Dad brought 503 down from 18000 feet to 7500 feet and locked the auto pilot to keep the plane strait as he threw the throttles full open. They'll have a little more difficulty trying to hit us this time...I think?"
Andy frowned back..."You're accuracy at thinking as of late has sucked boss?"
"Bet you a hundred bucks we nail something?" Dad replied smirking.
"Just drive thank you." Andy replied.
Dad's Intruder screamed over the Marines and South Vietnamese at 513 knots at 7500 feet and as expected the Viet Cong threw up a barrage of fire from the jungle growth around Xom Bai as the audio tone in Dad's ears broke and he mashed the pickle button on the control stick...
"Foomp! Foomp! Foomp!..." The bombs fell away from their rack in a timed release of 140 milliseconds apart sending them down in a strait line into the ground of Xom Bai. The third bomb buried itself into the soft clay ground under a broken thatch hut...crashed into some boxes full of RPG (Rocket propelled Grenade) rounds and lit off the stores of ammunition the local Viet Cong had been trying to stock for who knows how long...
"KAWHAM!" The concussion of the secondary explosion from the explosion of the 500 pound bomb surprised the grunts as it did the Viet Cong gorillas in the jungle growth who now felt themselves swiftly deballed of courage as well as supplies. For Dad, the only care was to get the heck back up to altitude so he wouldn't take any more hits. The good shooting of the Viet Cong was surprising...
"Good shooting Roomie!" John called on the radio. "Damn! They must have had a ton of stores where you hit it...son of a bitch that was some secondary."
"Just a product of my execptional family gifts." Kevin replied.
"Yeah...wait till I tell "Cin Cin" how you risked our lives. She'll show your family gifts the proper respect." Andy snorted.
"You still hung up on the last run?" Kevin said smirking. "This is work not vacation."
"Well I think we can handle things with the other pilots Kevin." John said. "You get back to the boat and get those wounds patched up so you can be ready for the evening flight. Nice job rookie."
Dad waved to John then asked Andy to set the way back to the ship. "Not a bad first time for getting our combat cherries busted huh?" Dad said to Andy.
"Next time can we be a little less desiring for action?" Andy asked. "And be a little nicer to the plane Kevin? You throw it around too viently and we might go system down when we really need it."
My Dad replied. "I promise to put your delicate condition in play the next time we do something crazy...which will probably be over Hanoi if we get lucky enough."
