Chapter 6: The most secret place on earth

[Spring 1972]

Crash, burn, die. It was every pilot's worst nightmare and three important words that Murdock's instructors at Flight School had drummed into him should never be in one's vocabulary. Of course he knew the threat would always be there, but that's what was so exhilarating.

The fire of youth burned in his belly and the danger hadn't frightened him at all. Besides, by the age of 20 he had become an excellent Thunder Birds pilot. Skilfully trained and with a talent that had exceeded all his own expectations, he never considered dying to be an option.

But now, five years later, he wasn't so sure. He thought about those words every time he went up in his Huey. Everything seemed different now he had served time in Vietnam. Every day he woke up he was learning a new way to survive. Maturity was now measured by how many days were left on his calendar. There was no room for errors.

He had spent the rest of his second tour training VNAF pilots, whilst still supporting military units in an airborne capacity. His time spent flying was even more demanding and harrowing. As the war intensified, the risk of being shot down added to the tension and the only thing he could do was to hang on to the controls and pray for a miracle.

And still he continued to zip up the dead into body bags. It concerned him how callous and unfeeling he had become with this ritual. But he knew he had to stay unattached if he didn't want the nightmares to eat him up.

The strain had become too much for a lot of the men around him. Some committed suicide, others had nervous breakdowns. Some had even begged him to kill them, when left stranded in a hot Landing Zone, rather than being left to the mercy of the VC. Most soldiers drank heavily or took drugs to counteract the stress and boredom between missions.

Murdock had now become withdrawn and secluded. There was no safe haven from the war. In fact, the longer he survived, the more isolated and deluded he became. He could feel himself unravelling as the sound of the war assaulted his ears.

His two year tour finally ended in March 1972, when the 101st Airborne Division left Vietnam. But by this time the war had become addictive. Perhaps it was his insanity that was keeping him alive. It helped to be paranoid, homicidally violent and merciless. To be sane was to become a victim.

Not knowing quite what to do next, the answer came in the unexpected guise of the CIA. He had worked for them back in 1967 and swore to himself that he would never work for them again. He hadn't like how they operated and what he had become during his brief time on their payroll.

But what else was he going to do? He didn't have anything or anyone to go back to the States for. He knew he was already on his way to becoming a basket case. The army would have sent him stateside with a section 8 months back if it hadn't been for Hannibal's intervention.

But Hannibal wasn't here anymore. Murdock missed his guidance and support. He missed the senseless jibber jabber between himself and the Big Mean Ugly Mudsucker. And most of all, he missed the brotherly bond and companionship between himself and his best buddy, Face.

So in Spring 1972, Murdock reluctantly accepted the assignment. The CIA owned a secret airline called Air America and were based in the Long Tieng Valley, Laos. Long Tieng was a Laotian military base located in the Xiangkhouang Province.

In fact, Long Tieng was often described as the most secret place on earth. Limestone mountains on three sides of the valley kept it well protected. The valley was elevated at 3,100 feet, high enough to have chilly nights and cold fogs. On the northwest side of the runway were karst outcrops, several hundred feet high. In the shadow of the crops was the "Sky" CIA headquarters.

The Agency's covert missions operated in Burma, Cambodia, Thailand and Laos. Air American crews transported tens of thousands of troops and refugees, flew emergency medevac teams, flew night-time airdrop missions over the Ho Chi Minh Trail, monitored sensors along infiltration routes, conducted a highly successful photo reconnaissance program and engaged in numerous clandestine missions using night-vision glasses and state-of-the-art electronic equipment.

The missions were fraught with danger, but Murdock had convinced himself that he had become immortal. Or perhaps his judgment was becoming impaired as the feeling of numbness was becoming greater than that of fear. It certainly had nothing to do with courage.