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Fire Support Base Burt
I loved the view from the top of Nui Ba Dinh. You could see the lights
from the far away cites. And I loved the challenge of a perfect pinnacle
landing. In the early evening, just as the Sun drops below the horizon.
It was my last stop, I could go back to Tay Ninh for the nights
festivities at the Club. It was amazing how fast they could get the
cases of Champaign off my helicopter.
Tonight would be great fun, Captain David
R. Warden, our Group Flight Surgeon, would be on the courier from Cu
Chi, and would be staying in the guest quarters. I loved flying with
Doc and we had flown a lot of missions together. Doc is the greatest
story teller of all time, and tonight I would get a double dose,
staying up late for New Years stand down.
I was the last bird in that night and
after fueling and a quick stop at the arming pits for some linked 7.62
for the M-60's. I put my D-model in the revetments, and started the
hike to the operations tent, walking right past the mortar watch ships--WO
Bill Britt saying something is cooking down at Fire Support Base Burt,
and they were on alert. Bill Britt and Frenchie Gibeault, what a
team.
I find Doc and we start cooking a steak,
out on the grill set up behind the Officer's Club. I liked it when the
Army made an attempt during the holidays. Almost anything was better
than C-Rations. The party had started before Doc and I got there and
seemed to be in full swing by the time we sat down to eat our steak.
WO Jim Conde could get anything, these steaks were proof. I looked up
to Jim, a special forces type that went to flight school, he could speak
the local language and he knew people in low places, if you know
what I mean.
The party was a success, we watched a
movie, heard and told some great stories (all true of course)
and I headed off for bed, wishing the tent had cooled down enough to
be able to sleep in. I walked over with Doc to find him a Cot in the
tent we kept for visiting crews, and on my way back was stopped by the
on duty orderly.
"Mr. Coe find your Doctor friend and
get to operations now." I thought, What kind of silly BS is being
pulled now by one of my more than slightly inebriated flying buddies.
So rather than wake up the Doc, I walked over to the Operations tent
and a very serious Major Bauman looked up and said "Where is your Flight
Surgeon?" Well, I started to speak and he cut me off, "Get him now,
and get back here as fast as you can--your crew has been sent for, hurry!"
Doc was still awake, he jumped in his
boots and grabbed his gear and out the tent flap in one move. For a
huge airborne ranger, Doc moves so well, the word would be graceful,
if not applying to 250 pounds of raw muscle and brains. My flying gear
is in my tent and we both double time over to it and double time to
the operations tent.
Major Bauman looked very unhappy, he
was gruff when he was happy, he looked sinister tonight. "Men I have
a bad job for you two tonight. Mr. Coe, you are my only sober pilot,
and Captain Warden, I have to send you as the Co-pilot--I have no one
else to send." I looked at Doc and he smiled at me. I knew he was
up to it what ever it was.
We were taken to the revetment by Jeep
and my crew had the bird untied and ready to rock and roll. We
were airborne in minutes. First, we stopped by the ammo bunkers and
took a full load of ordnance. As my heavy helicopter staggered for some
altitude, I noticed just how black it could be in Vietnam, and started
to fly on my instruments, tuning my radios to the Ground FM, the FAC
on VHF and my Company UHF.
"Blackhawk 54 inbound with a load of
ordnance, where do you want it? over." No response. We must be too far
out for them to hear us, and I pulled a little more pitch and grabbed
some more altitude to help with the radio.
I was busy flying, I could hear the gunships
on Victor and I could hear fastmovers on Uniform, no grunts on
Fox-trot. Doc keys his mike "Good night! look at the fire fight going
on out there." In the inky darkness was the fountain of horror,
a full fledged fire fight, tracers coming in, tracers going out, explosions,
fire, it looked like a real mess down there. Bullets ricocheting at
every angle, I knew our
25th Infantry 2/22, the Triple Duce Mech. men were fighting for
their lives down there, and they would be needing our ammo and medivac
now. I ask the FAC for the Ground frequency and he gave it to me.
"Ground Control, Blackhawk 54 over."
I could hear the din of battle behind a voice on the radio. "Blackhawk
54 we are under heavy attack and are requesting you stand by ...
say again ... ordnance on board?" "Roger Ground, I have 105
Beehive and a Doctor." After a moment of silence Ground comes back
on the radio saying, "It is too hot to land now, but we urgently
need your load." I don't hear the Rat Pack, so I call the Stinger
gunships, "Stinger Lead, Blackhawk 54, over." "Stinger, go ahead."
"I have 105 beehive and a Doctor on board ... can you get us in?"
"If you want to go in there we will escort you in. What is your
location?" "Blackhawk 54 is North West 5 miles out." "Roger
Blackhawk, come to the South end of Burt ... we will pick you up
and escort you in, but there is a lot of fire down there so make it
a fast approach."
We fly South of Burt and I can see
the gunships coming out to get us. I start the 120 Knot approach,
at first going past the gun cover, but then as I start to flair they
are by my side, mini-guns roaring, low level insanity.
I can't see a thing with all the smoke
and flares competing with the tracers. I see a lone trooper standing
with his arms over his head, guiding me in, exposing himself. The
bravery of the men on the ground chokes me up. I am guided to a spot
with wounded men, Doc is out of his seat on the ground, doing the
much needed triage, so we can take the worst hit out and hope to save
them. Men come from the dark and take the Ammo off. The volume of
fire in the perimeter is intense, I am taking hits--it will only be
a matter of time and this helicopter will never fly again. Doc has
his load and is back in the right seat, I call coming out,
and look up to see a pair of gunships covering my ass coming out.
We are low level in the dark with a
load of men, all severely wounded, Doc says "I had better get busy,"
and jumps over the console and starts taking care of the men in the
back. I fly directly to the 12th Evac pad in Cu Chi. I call, "Golden
Umpire, Blackhawk 54, inbound with eight wounded ... about 10 minutes
out." The calm voice of Bill Giles on the radio comes back, "Late
night 54, you are our only chopper right now, land on pad one."
Nice to hear a familiar voice on the radio. I wondered if he ever
slept, he was always there when I needed him. He and his crew, will
expedite the unloading of our wounded. Best Hospital Pad Man in Vietnam.
Cu Chi Tower clears me direct to the Medivac
Pad and I come in hot flaring sideways to clear the tail boom,
and I am almost down and on jumps Big Bill Giles and he takes charge.
Bill strips off the loaded weapons and explosive devices, gently lifting
the men on to stretchers waiting by the open doors. Bill does his
work like a mad man, but every move is practiced. Wham--Bill
hits me on top of my helmet to tell me he is jumping off and I can
pull pitch. Total time on the pad maybe two minutes, but probably
less.
We lift to a high hover and ask tower
for permission to go to the ammo bunkers, and they clear us direct.
The ammo humpers know what is going on and have our load waiting,
we watch them put it on in the aircraft, then a quick call to tower
and we are staggering into the air again. We have enough fuel, and
I would like to be light going in, to help with the control of the
aircraft down low behind the perimeter of Burt.
Doc and I start to hear the radios first, things are bad, looks like
one of the Stinger gunships has been shot down, in the dark. I see
the fast movers laying down Napalm, lights things up, kind
of pretty, and deadly at the same time. I cannot see Burt yet, but
the fire works were spectacular coming from a concentrated spot on
the horizon. As we get nearer we call Ground and ask for status--they
wave us off, too hot. Now fuel was a problem. It took a few minutes
to find a gun team, they had one down, and were pissed off big time.
I think they would have escorted me into hell if I had ask. They called
the fire and I made the approach, we turned this one around in seconds,
not one mistake, in and out. I called Big Bill on the radio and Doc
Warden went to work on the men in the back of the helicopter.
Doc and I flew all night, and in the
morning we landed by the shot down burned Stinger gunship so Captain
David Royal Warden Jr. MC could perform his duties as a Flight Surgeon
and issue a Cause of Death for the crew. The men in the Stinger
gunship had been burned very badly by the fire, and I know it was
a shock to Doc, his whole demeanor changed. Fight hard all night and
then in the morning perform autopsies on the men who had been covering
your ass that night, is a tough one. Doc had to load each still
hot crewman in a body bag, after figuring out who they were. Doc
Warden says, "Some smells are with you for life."
Doc Warden and I flew into Burt numerous
times that night, but what we really remember, are the aviators we
lost, not the men we saved.
Wayne R. "Crash" Coe
Blackhawk 54
187th Assault Helicopter Company 1967-8
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