CHAPTER 30
If it was Thursday, then it was chopper day in Dinh Quan District. Province headquarters would place a helicopter at our disposal for the entire day, operations and weather permitting. Sometimes it arrived late or had to leave early, but by and large we could count on having the helicopter available. Most often it was a standard UH-1, or Huey, from the air detachment at Xuan Loc, but sometimes it would be the smaller Light Observation Helicopter (LOH). On rare occasions, when operational demands had the province’s choppers committed elsewhere, we might end up with an Air America helicopter. Air America was the worst-kept secret of the war—purportedly a private charter airline with a multitude of fixed-wing aircraft and helicopters, but well known to everyone as being owned and operated by the Central Intelligence Agency.
Chopper day was a special day for the team, always posing the question, “What shall we do this week?” What we did was an incredible variety of activities, running the gamut from reconnaissance to Christmas shopping. The weekly helicopter was a godsend, helping to satisfy both the professional needs of the district and the personal needs of the team members. The district chief was well aware of the availability of this wonderful asset and frequently offered suggestions for trips he would like to make. I naturally made every effort to accommodate him whenever possible.
Most frequently, we used the chopper to reconnoiter the district, particularly the more inaccessible parts, although we were careful not to stray too deep into War Zone D. It was easy from the vantage point of a thousand feet to identify new trails, spot new structures, and get a feel for what might be different. Suspicious areas were examined at even lower altitudes. This information helped us plan operations, select ambush sites, and identify target areas for our H&I fires. Whenever we flew these reconnaissance missions, we always had Vietnamese district officers aboard to permit them to observe for themselves. These weekly flights were also an excellent way to monitor the scope of the timber-harvesting efforts in the district.
From the chopper we could also clearly see the incredible damage wrought by Arc Light attacks. “Arc Light” was the code name for bomb strikes launched from U.S. Air Force B-52 Stratofortress bombers. Bombing from altitudes of 30,000 feet, the planes could neither be seen nor heard. Their lethal cargo of 500-pound bombs, 108 per aircraft, would cut a path of destruction hundreds of yards long, blowing down trees and creating huge craters. I recall receiving word one afternoon that there would be an Arc Light attack about ten kilometers south of Dinh Quan. A number of the team members and I drove to the top of Artillery Hill to observe. It was a bright, clear morning, and from that elevated vantage point we had an unobstructed view of the target area. It was an awesome and unforgettable event. Without warning, the earth erupted. We could see the shock wave from each explosion. Columns of smoke and debris exploded from the surface as the destruction marched laterally across our front. As best as we could determine, this particular attack consisted of bomb loads from only two B-52s, but it seemed to go on forever. The attack had the same effect on all of us who observed it. “My God,” we thought, “how could anything survive that?”
I knew firsthand from my days as a company commander in the U.S. 1st Division the destruction these attacks wrought. On several occasions during that tour, my company had been inserted by chopper to sweep the area and mop up right after B-52 raids. It was a mission we hated. Movement through the area was extremely slow and difficult due to the tree blowdown, the huge craters, and the acres of loose soil. In addition, the tree blowdown removed the canopy that shaded us from the direct rays of that scorching Southeast Asian sun.
Many of these raids did little more than rip giant gashing scars in the countryside. Others, however, found real targets. When this occurred, the killing and destruction were nearly indescribable. We occasionally would find a VC or NVA soldier who had been nearby in a stupor, with blood pouring from his nose and ears from the concussion. Frequently, when VC or NVA gave themselves up as part of the Chieu Hoi Program, they cited the B-52 raids as one of the reasons. It was a real weapon of terror.
Our recon flights also provided us a firsthand view of the damage done through the spraying of the defoliant Agent Orange. Great swaths of the jungle were chemically peeled back, exposing the ground beneath. The theory behind the use of Agent Orange was that by killing the jungle cover, we could patrol the defoliated area by air, thus denying its use to the VC or NVA. It was also used to destroy crops in VC territories. I have no way of knowing if Agent Orange made any positive contribution to the war against the enemy, but I do know the devastating impact it had on crops when these sprays drifted into friendly areas. I also know of the intense emotion surrounding this issue and of the highly contentious allegations regarding its harmful impact on those soldiers, airmen, and civilians who were exposed to this chemical mix.
Most of our weekly reconnaissance flights were routine and uneventful; however, occasionally they resulted in memorable experiences. One legendary flight involved Captain Hughes, who took the new young lieutenant just assigned as commander of the MAT stationed at the bridge, on a reconnaissance flight along the western edge of the district. As the helicopter approached the bridge spanning the La Nga River, Hughes wondered aloud to the young warrant officer pilot if the helicopter could make it between the narrow support columns beneath the bridge. At that, the pilot dipped the chopper, and under they went at about 80 mph. The new lieutenant nearly wet his pants! We later measured the span and figured there was about six feet of clearance for the rotor blades as the chopper went under the span. That stunt was the subject of a lot of discussion, but no one tried it again. Although he never would admit it, I also believe that incident aged Hughes about ten years.
Chopper day also meant transportation for team members, either to or from Xuan Loc. All our support operations, from personnel actions to logistical support, were there, along with my boss and my counterpart’s boss. In addition, most of the agencies with which we operated had field offices there—USAID, USIA, CIA, and others. Visits to Xuan Loc were frequent for all team members, and the helicopter was the principal means of transportation.
Liaison visits were another frequent mission. The district chief, Hughes, and I would visit adjacent district headquarters to meet with senior Vietnamese and American officers to exchange information, coordinate efforts, and catch up socially. We were also able to visit American units stationed or operating in the vicinity. Visits to U.S. units were always productive, as we were able to scrounge all sorts of goodies, from coffee to fresh meat to munitions to radio batteries. All the things that were in short supply for us were generally plentiful in the U.S. units. As trading materials, we would take along primitive crossbows made by our local Montagnards, small VC flags, and other captured weapons and materials.
Visits to U.S. units also generated a great deal of operational support for us. We might arrange for a medical team to visit and set up shop in one of our hamlets, or perhaps convince the U.S. unit to help us reconstruct a school or marketplace. In addition, through our visits we were able to coordinate operations and on rare occasions obtain some training for our local units.
Access to the helicopter also gave us access to some of the other goodies generally available to U.S. units but not to those of us in the boonies. The American Express bank in Long Binh was a frequent stop. Although most of the team members’ pay went to their banks in the States for their families’ use, a portion came to us directly each month to pay for food, laundry, haircuts, and so forth. Americans in Vietnam were issued not U.S. currency, but Military Payment Certificates (MPC). This currency, brightly colored and smaller in size than U.S. dollars, was dubbed “funny money” by U.S. troops. MPCs were introduced into Vietnam in 1965 in order to help curb inflation and to combat black market activities dealing in U.S. greenbacks. Periodically, and with little advance notice, the MPC was converted to a totally new series in order to sting those in the black market who were dealing in MPC. As my personal supply of MPC built up, I would periodically stop at the bank to have a cashier’s check or money order made out so I could send it back to my family.
Probably the most enjoyable use of the chopper was our shopping sprees. Even the pilots enjoyed it when we launched one of these infrequent but memorable trips. We hit the PXs or commissaries at Saigon, Long Binh, Binh Hoa, and Vung Tau, as well as the major U.S. units’ headquarters. In a two-pronged attack strategy, we frequently sent a couple of the NCOs ahead by jeep to scrounge and horse trade. When we arrived by chopper, the booty would be waiting for us at the helipad. This proved to be an effective technique for keeping the team supplied and for acquiring some of the items that were harder to come by. It also allowed us to get frozen food back to Dinh Quan and into our freezer before it thawed.
In order to ensure that our presents got home in time for Christmas, it was necessary for us to launch the Christmas shopping blitz in mid-November. During this frenzied search, no helipad was too small or too crowded for us to squeeze onto. No PX, however remote, was safe from our plunder. Not only were these Kamikaze shopping raids successful, they were fun as well. The pilots and crews who supported us on these missions loved them as much as we did. For a brief moment we all felt the exhilaration of being back home and rushing about getting our Christmas shopping done. I often wondered what the taxpayers would say, but I never wondered long—as the next PX helipad came into view, I would once again be caught up in the hunt!