DAK SEANG AND THE PHOTO MISSION

I left the CCC compound for “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” to the airfield early in the morning. It was late spring, I believe. Whatever I did that morning in Cambodia was uneventful, and by 1030 I was back at Dak To, anticipating getting to the C- rations before the Huey drivers arrived. This could be a canned peaches or fruit salad day! As I was walking to the lean-to where we cooked lunch I saw two Charlie-model gunships parked on the ramp near the ammo storage. Both pilots approached me and asked if they could rearm their guns, and I said “sure”. As I watched one of the pilots asked me if I could give them some help at the Special Forces A camp at Dak Seang. They explained that the camp was being overrun and though they had tried to get additional air support they had been unsuccessful. I fueled the Bird-Dog, loaded my outboard tubes with Willie Pete’s, my inboards with Nails, and took off shortly after the two gunships. When I arrived over the camp I could see total chaos on the ground. NVA were everywhere. An SF trooper whose call-sign was Dizzy was broadcasting from one of the few remaining undamaged buildings, and the Hueys and I were the only aircraft on station. I called back to Dak To and got the Ops Officer, a Major Smith, to release the Cobra/Loach Hunter-Killer unit attached to the CCC operation, but until they showed up we were all the close-air support Dak Seang had. I kept trying to get MACV to coordinate with the Air Force for fighters, but we didn’t get any fast movers until late in the afternoon. Amazingly the two Hueys and then the Cobras managed to keep the NVA from breaching the perimeter barbed wire, and were taking their toll of the attackers. An OH6 scout helicopter took enough small arms damage that it had to make an emergency landing on the airstrip. As soon as it touched down the pilot and the observer dove out of it and raced full tilt for a bunker. From another bunker at least 4 ARVN troopers were racing even faster for the OH6. The crew dove into the bunker and the ARVNs piled into the Loach like circus clowns in one of those little cars. I don’t remember how long they stayed in the little helicopter, but when it dawned on them that they weren’t going anywhere and that the NVA was trying to blow the thing up with mortars, the ARVNs dove out of it and ran even faster for the same bunker the Loach’s crew dove into. Can you imagine that conversation?

I spent that day directing traffic. I fired the fleshettes within five minutes of arriving on station, and used the two Willie Pete’s almost immediately after the Cobras got there. Then I marked with smoke grenades. I was just about out of gas when the Air Force finally showed up and was told by an Air Force FAC in a 0-2 that he’d be running the show, thank you very much. It was time for me to go. Miraculously I was unscathed. And the airplane never took a hit. How’s that for good karma? But what I remember most about this day was watching those ARVNs diving into and out of the Loach. The Keystone Kops had nothing on these guys. Meyers’ stunts notwithstanding, it was one of the funniest things I ever saw.

The battle for Dak Seang went on for several more days. The Loach on the landing strip was joined by the carcasses of several more airplanes. I was there that first day, but after that we had our own issues in Cambodia.

Phil Phillips and I flew one of those two-ship photo missions right after a B-52 strike west of Highway 110. I was flying high ship, Phil was low ship and had a SF photographer named Armstrong in his back seat. We got over the AO and Phil put the Bird-Dog about 100 feet off the ground. I cannot remember how long we were on station. What I remember seeing was way too many tracers going by my airplane. I was about 900 feet. The next thing I remember was Phil yelling on the radio that his ailerons were shot out and that the guy in the back was hit. I told Phil to rudder-turn the Bird-Dog East, getting him aimed back toward the Vietnam border, then kicked my ship into a split S and fired all four Willie Pete’s where I could see the tracers coming up, which was essentially right behind Phil’s tail. I got Dak To on the radio and had CCC launch the helicopter assets just in case Phil had to put his airplane down. We got clear of the ground fire and climbed up to about 1500 feet. We picked up the Hueys and Cobras and had them escort Phil back to Dak To. Phil got the airplane on the ground and a jeep with a medic followed him down the runway until he stopped. Phil got out and the medic got in, but Armstrong had been shot in the head and must have died instantly.

We don’t think about death when we’re young and/or dumb. We were boys, really, with our lives out in front of us. It was too difficult to conceive of a life short-circuited, of not doing all the things we think we were meant to do or wanted to do. I can tell you that I had a “Come to Jesus” meeting with my Dionysian (god of war in Greek mythology) side that day.

Not too long after that Phil got into a battle with “Rawhide” Smith, the CCC S3, and got booted off the compound. Phil continued to fly the CCC mission, and when Doug Krout rotated home Phil and I did he work of three pilots. We all moved over to the MACV compound shortly after that, which put us in direct and daily contact with our platoon leader, Captain Worst Person In The World, and Lieutenant Jerry Ford showed up to eventually replace Phil at CCC. I thought “Cherry Boy” and Ben Brown looked like kids, but Jerry looked like he’d just climbed down out of his high-chair. He had to get his in-country checkout from Captain WPITW, which took about two weeks instead of two days, because our great leader could be a total jackass, and proved it every chance he got. Power corrupts…absolutely. But the best part was that Phil had our stolen jeep and wouldn’t let Captain WPITW drive it or ride in it. And then there was the late evening, too many beers ritual. We all said good night to one another from the doorway of our respective rooms. “Good night, Phil. Good night, Jerry. Good night, Frank”. Then, all together now, “Good night, --------, you a--hole”. We were so mature for our age…