I
just read Den Cook's Heaven's
Door! about Tet 1968 and the 377th Combat Security Police at
Tan Son Nhut Air Base. I flew both Razorback guns and Dean
slicks during Tet 1968, and had three helicopters shot out from under
me in 26 hours of continuous flying. We were the helicopters at
Hotel-3(third 
helipad
on TSN) the 120th Assault Helicopter Company.
There were thousands of NVA and VC
coming in waves from the fields outside Tan Son Nhut Air Base. I
had seen them do this before when working in Tay Ninh, near the Cambodian
border. I did not think the Military Police could hold against such a
fierce attack. We put down some serious fire and lost a bird right in the
middle of the main attack. I was the replacement wing bird for that fire
team.
This is how I remember it happening ...
Tet 1968
Incoming--in Saigon, my sleepy
brain never really sleeps. My bed is on the first floor, I am instantly
awake, I can tell the difference between incoming and outgoing
in my sleep. That was definitely incoming.
I had just transferred to the 120th Assault
Helicopter Company, flying out of helipad Hotel-3 in Saigon from a serious
kick ass line outfit, the Blackhawks or 187th Assault Helicopter
Company in Tay Ninh, we got rocketed all the time there. I knew the
drill--get as many of the helicopters in the air as you can, and if you
can scrounge a crew take a gunship. Warrant Officer helicopter pilots can
and will fly just about anything that has rotor blades on it and I was
running full speed through the confusion to the heliport to get at least
one helicopter out of harms way.
Captain Pane is waving both arms over his
head standing in front of his Razorback C model gunship--she was
running and I dove in and strapped the chopper to my ass and we pulled
pitch off the Hog pad. We are into the inky dark in seconds looking for
mortar tube flashes, but what we see is a sea of little lights
showing thousands of NVA and Viet Cong heading for the airfield--the
lights stretched out into the night. I don't scare easy. This sight was
unnerving.
We can see a huge volume of fire
concentrated on one of the Gates, and we open fire on the human wave
attack. We are expended in seconds. Flying low over the bunkers dropping
hot brass on the Air Force Security Police, cutting swaths in the wall of
NVA. I finally get the SP's on the radio. They are pinned down fighting
for their lives, we tell them we will be right back and make the two
second trip to rearm just across the runway.
The Security Police did not have
replacements, and neither did we, so we fought hard and smart. We rearm as
fast as the crew and the armors can lay the linked ammo in the trays. The
rockets all have to be seated, and extra M-60 barrels for the Crew Chief
and Gunner, we are off.
We fight hard and the volume of fire from
the NVA never lets up one bit. I am worried about the SP's, but I can see
the tracers coming out of their positions. We covered a slick full of
ammo, so they could keep fighting.
As day was starting to make the sky pink in
the East, we finally took so many hits to that helicopter that we could no
longer keep oil in the engine and she started to burn on short final to
Hotel-3 helipad. Now I am out of the Gunship business.
The 120th AHC flew most of the generals and
dignitaries around Saigon and the South part of Vietnam, and so had some
beautiful new UH-1 H Model C&C ships with center radio consoles
and leather seats. So when the company ran out of Gunships, with the help
of the Crew I took the center console out of the C&C helicopter and
made a ammo hauling monster out of that clean new ship. Now I
needed a copilot, so I fly the helicopter down to the Long Binh area to
look for Doc Warden. Doc was the Flight Surgeon for our aviation group,
and had flown 500 plus hours with me at the 187th Assault.
I hated to admit it but he was as good as
any line pilot in Vietnam, and better than most, and Doc had never been to
flight school. Major David Royal Warden Jr. MC was sitting in his
ambulance on the Black Jack Pad, I had him strapped in and on the
intercom in seconds. Doc, we are out of pilots again. Can you fly
today? Doc looks over and smiles, when the chips are down, Airborne
Ranger Doc will pull you through, I was already pulling pitch.
I knew the men in the BOQ were almost
surrounded and trapped inside with no weapons (a ruling coming from
drunken fights in the back area). I could hear them on the radio, so we
loaded cases of pistols, clips, rifles, and ammo. We had to hover over the
roof and drop the heavy boxes--right through the roof--to the men
below, while a Playboy Cobra gunship flies cover for our exposed
hovering helicopter. The NVA open up with a .51 cal and hit the cobra
killing the pilot, one of my roommates from Flight School Class 67-3, WO Roger
Cameron. It is starting to be a long day. We land right behind the new
Cobra, Doc checks Roger, we put him in a body bag and got right back in
our helicopter and went back to work just like every one else. Every man
that could fight, was in the fight.
The SP's have fought hard and are still
holding the perimeter, bodies everywhere. We finally get a chance to pull
the wounded back from the outer bunkers and move some larger machine guns
out. Our usually spit shined SP's look like grunts in the field, and fight
like grunts in the field. They made us proud. The NVA threw everything
they had at the SP's and could not budge them. The fight was not over by
far, but we knew we could handle anything they could throw at us and hold.
That's when the 25th Infantry Mech. men rolled down Highway 1.
The 25th Infantry Mech. rolled through
Saigon and had two big Dusters in the front of the column. Twin
40 mm guns that could, and did, chop the scenery to pieces in seconds.
They had Scout ships out in front, C&C over the top, and gunships
prowling the sidelines looking for a fight. They came to kick ass,
and man did they ever get that job done.
Any way, I was medevacing a wounded grunt
from the column that had been hit by a sniper, I said to the ground
commander, "Did you get the sniper?" He replied no, but
he was turning towards that target now. From 1500 feet up, two Dusters
unloaded on a small hamlet just off the road. The hamlet disappeared.
Gone. Never existed. Over the radio I hear the strong voice of the
Commanding officer and a loud diesel engine, "Dean Ship, you have
a Cold Landing Zone, Over." Man alive, they came to kick ass and
I landed my chopper right beside the track and took off the wounded men.
Then they waded right into the middle of the NVA and linked up with the
SP's. They came right down Highway 1 and through the O51 Gate Bunker that
had been overrun. The SP's, I'm sure, could feel the ground shake as the
25th made their entrance."
With the aid of Doc Warden, I flew 26
straight hours in a helicopter, got four hours of sleep on the floor of
the helicopter and cranked it up for another 20 hours. I am sure I could
have never survived with out the help of Doc Warden at the controls. We
took hits on one helicopter until something vital was hit, then we would
find a replacement and keep on flying. I knew from flying for the
Blackhawks, the most important thing in a fire fight, is to keep the ammo
coming to the men in contact in the line bunkers.
We flew 20 hour days and slept in the
helicopters at night to guard them, while the crews serviced the aircraft.
I flew until the flight surgeon pulled me at 195 hours in 10 days, Tet was
a wild one for me too.
At the memorial, I flew in the missing
man formation to honor the men lost in the fighting--yours and ours. I
lost my best friend. I flew the missing man slot. We all had tears
in our eyes and flew a sloppy formation because we could not see very well
through the tears.
I never looked at military police the same
the rest of the time I was in the military. The ones I knew held against impossible
odds and a volume of fire unknown before the Tet offensive. If they
had not have held, we would have been overrun--no doubt about it. When you
have seen a SP standing on a bunker radio in hand directing fire, like I
have, not caring about his own safety, you know why they held.
To Den Cook: Thank You,
If you were one of the men in the bunkers, thank you. I never in a
million years thought you guys could hold against that many NVA. You were
the ones that should be getting the big thank you from all of us.
Wayne
R. "Crash" Coe
To Crash: This has been a
long time coming. For providing us the air support ... THANK YOU THANK YOU
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! We all will never forget
Tet 1968, and thanks to the web we can now be reunited, remembering that
time 29 years ago. Thanks to Don
Poss for bringing us back together.
I must tell you this has affected me
deeply. For the first time in a long time, I have cried. This is how I
remember it happening ...
(At end of story, check out the Link to Den Cook's
photos of the Tan Son Nhut 'Tet 1968 fighting areas)
In 1968, it was the 1,500 men USAF 377 Security
Police Squadron's responsibility to defend and protect all the personnel
and equipment at Tan Son Nhut Air Base. We were told at Guardmount, that
intelligence had picked up something that we could get hit that night. The
QRT's would be on standby. We should keep a sharp eye and report anything
that moved.
I arrived on post at 2100 hours. Everything
was very still, and very quiet. Strange. The night before, Tet
celebrations were in full swing, with fireworks everywhere outside the
perimeter. The air had filled with a foggy smoke from it all. Tonight, NOTHING,
calm, DEAD CALM. Something is up. The locals knew what was about to
happen.
At about 0330 hours the rockets began to
hit. Oh my God, what's happening? I thought. Then a Freedom Bird
lifted off over the O51 Bunker and all hell broke loose. The sky lit up
with thousands of lines of green tracers attempting to down the bird.
THOUSANDS! That meant there were thousands of enemy out there. Oh
God save me.
I knew we were out gunned when the Tet
attack began. I was very scared and very demoralized, knowing we could
be--would likely be--overrun at any time. Not in my wildest dreams
did I expect an attack of that magnitude.
As Air Force Security Police--light
infantry, at best--we were not equipped for an extended and major
engagement of that size. Each SP had an M-16 and 10 clips of ammo. Bunkers
had M-60's. QRT's had M-60's and grenades. Several SAT Teams had jeeps
with 30 cal's. Additionally, we were out manned by thousands. The
bulk of our manpower was spread along Tan Son Nhut's 20 kilometer
perimeter. How could we ever repulse an attack this big? I kept
thinking.
My bunker was some distance back from the
O51 Bunker. I had a commanding view of the battle. However if I returned
fire I could hit Air Force Security Police closer to the fence line.
Besides, I needed the 200 or so rounds in case the enemy overran the
positions in front of me. At one point I came within a millisecond of
blowing away two noncombatant Airmen trying to retreat to the main
base! That is what prompted my story about Heaven's
Door!.
Demoralized was an understatement of
how I felt. It was literally us (377 Security Police Squadron)
against them (Viet Cong and the North Vietnam Army). And it was our
responsibility to defend the base, protect all the personnel, aircraft and
equipment at Tan Son Nhut.
When the first choppers arrived, my spirits
soared, and I knew we then had a FIGHTING CHANCE. With each pass of
a gunship I let out a cheer! Every time a gunship fired a rocket in to the
enemy I shouted GET'EM! Every time a chopper took a hit and went
down another took its place. Choppers and Security Police--we were in a
still desperate fight for our lives, and we were in it together, to win,
whatever it took.
It was a strange sort of fighting force:
Air Force Security Police on the ground fighting for our lives; the Army
in the air giving us the air support we desperately needed. The Army
giving the Air Force air support? I know it sounds backward,
but it worked and turned the battle.
Then the Three Quarter Horse came
rumbling in, and yes the earth quaked to bedrock with their armor. Their
quick response took them directly in to the heart of the battle, which was
instrumental in defeating the enemy.
The choppers stayed with us through days
and nights of fighting, and were still with us several days later. And
when it was finally over, Tan Son Nhut--a South Vietnamese Air Base--was
still in the hands of United States Armed Forces.
Air Force Combat
Security Police formed up at the O51 Bunker that had been overrun, for a
memorial to our fallen comrades. The gunships were still with us and did a
fly-by: in formation, for all our lost friends. It still brings a lump to
my throat and opens a heart-wound of loss, pride, and gratitude.
There is no way I can ever truly express my
thanks to Crash, all the other gunship crews that hung in there and made
the difference, and the 4th Cavalry, 25th Division . It took all of us
fighting together to defeat the 16,000-20,000 Viet Cong and NVA communist
forces. We, American armed forces, made a difference those bloody
days in 1968. Together, we won the battle for Tan Son Nhut, and
helped permanently break the back of Viet Cong forces in South Vietnam.
And together, we will always be brothers.
God bless you Crash