In the military when you are on an mission in some foreign country... you are "In-Country".
This is my recollection of a simple day that could have easily ended up very different than it did.
This is my recollection of a simple day that could have easily ended up very different than it did.
In July 1972 I was in country in Vietnam. My home was at Da Nang Air Base, Republic of Vietnam. My Vietnam experience was very short. My records say 51 days, but I am fairly certain it was between 32 and 37 days in country.
I flew a mission everyday while in-country, except for my in processing day and the 4th of July. I was designated chief cook for my Squadron on 4th of July. I cooked hot dogs and hamburgers and drank beer all day in the hot humid sun. I am sure I was cooked well done... it was a good day.
I was a FAC... Forward Air Controller. Not by choice. It has been described as the most dangerous job in Vietnam (60 Minutes), suicide mission (the title of a History Channel video). Being a FAC never seemed as dangerous as the media portrayed... really.
We would fly in forward battle areas... behind enemy lines. I flew a Cessna 337, Sky Master or as the Air Force called it O-2A (Oscar Duece). The airplane also had the name Oscar Duck... as in sitting duck. There was no armament, no protective shielding us from shrapnel or bullets. We were given a flack jacket for protection which most of us sat on to protect our body from stuff flying up from below. We carried 7 white phosphorus smoke rockets under each wing to mark targets for fighters/bombers to drop bombs on. The goal was to not let the bombs drop on the good guys on the ground. We also directed search and rescue missions. The movie Bat 21 was made about a rescue in my area of operation about 45 days before I got there. Perhaps I was the replacement for one of those FAC's. I operated from the DMZ (de-militarized zone) south to Hue, along the coast and over to the mountains on the East... The enemy were well into South Vietnam at the time, and Da Nang was getting close to being overrun.
We would fly in forward battle areas... behind enemy lines. I flew a Cessna 337, Sky Master or as the Air Force called it O-2A (Oscar Duece). The airplane also had the name Oscar Duck... as in sitting duck. There was no armament, no protective shielding us from shrapnel or bullets. We were given a flack jacket for protection which most of us sat on to protect our body from stuff flying up from below. We carried 7 white phosphorus smoke rockets under each wing to mark targets for fighters/bombers to drop bombs on. The goal was to not let the bombs drop on the good guys on the ground. We also directed search and rescue missions. The movie Bat 21 was made about a rescue in my area of operation about 45 days before I got there. Perhaps I was the replacement for one of those FAC's. I operated from the DMZ (de-militarized zone) south to Hue, along the coast and over to the mountains on the East... The enemy were well into South Vietnam at the time, and Da Nang was getting close to being overrun.
This day I am writing about today is a quiet day. No bombs dropped, no rockets fired and if I was shot at that day I didn't know it. There was no screaming on any of my 4 radios. It was a rainy and stormy day. I took off before sunrise as always, and soon I was in the clouds. Riding around in bad weather in a 737 is not too bad, but in a Cessna it is a different story. Each day our mission was 4 1/2 hours long. On this day I couldn't see the ground so I was of no use to anyone. Just up in the clouds bouncing around with a basic airplane, concentrating on my instruments to keep my airplane dirty side down... or to you... right side up. It's tedious, mind numbing work and you can't stop flying the airplane or get disoriented or it suddenly gets harder to figure out which side is up... not so in modern day airplanes.
My 4 1/2 hours were up and I was RTB (returning to base). Soon I was "feet wet"... over the ocean... I couldn't see it but I knew I was. Most days I would descend all the way to the water and skim the water on the way back to Da Nang... If I got in trouble with my commander what could they do to me? ... send me behind enemy lines in a Cessna? We were an unruly bunch.
This day I settled into a more conservative altitude and as I got close to Da Nang I called air traffic control at the base and asked for an instrument approach, which I was granted. I had never made an instrument approach at Da Nang since we normally flew a different pattern due to small arms fire. I knew Monkey Mountain was on the left and more stuff was on the right of the final approach. The approach more or less ran down the bay.
One very dark clear morning the week before I had a total electrical failure... everything went black... but there were stars and a hint of twilight... I had pounded on my instrument panel, flipped switches and shook my airplane around and the electrics came back on... that was no big deal. But this morning it happened again, at the worse possible time. On approach in the weather with mountains around and no guidance. I was down to only the very basic instruments that didn't use electricity. That is something you are taught when you begin flying, but you lose the ability to use it as you get in more advanced aircraft that are more reliable. I can remember being taught to "keep flying the airplane" no matter what... and I did... of course there was no other option except bailing out... but I would have to have a lot of missing parts (like missing wings) on my airplane before I would do that. So and old instructor in my head was shouting "keep flying the airplane"!
I was forced back to the basics of my flying career, but without any way of knowing where the mountains or base was. I thought about climbing as fast as I could and getting above any mountains on my map and then head East, over the ocean and start a slow descent over the water and hope I didn't hit the water before I saw it. Then I would have to figure out where I was with very little visibility, no navigation instruments and no radios to call for help. In the end I made a very quick decision to descend immediately since I knew I had been on course when everything quit. My goal was to get below the clouds before I veered off into the mountains or ships or buildings. I knew I was descending well before the point I was supposed to. It seemed like forever but I first started seeing water straight down below me and then the base of a jungle covered mountain to the left of me. Eventually I saw that big long runway out in front of me. I had not veered off course at all. I rocked my wings radically left and right to signal to the tower that I was radio out and eventually they gave me the green light... I was cleared to land.
I had Cheated Death again (as we always laughingly said at the end of a mission). I had lived to fight and fly another day.
Every night before we went to bed we would listen to Crystal Gayle singing "Help Me Make It Through the Night"... after all we lived in a place that was called "Rocket City" for a good reason. Rocket attacks were common at night.
And here is Crystal Gayle..
In life there are times when you are alone and you know where you are, but your guidance seems to have failed you. You are lost and drifting in a fog. I hope you can reach down deep and remember what your Instructor taught you... and keep flying your airplane .
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