Chapter 4

PHANTOM DOWN

 

I woke up to a strange sound: it was Green, cleaning his weapon and whistling to himself, as he worked. It was early; the sun was low behind the trees and the air was cool and damp. 

I looked around the small clearing we used for our camp: some of the guys were still rolled up in their ponchos, sleeping. It had been a quiet night, the only movement the changing of the guards, now and then; I had even managed to get a few solid hours of sleep.

Green came over to me. “Morning, Doc,” he said. “Man, that sure was some kinda day we had us yesterday. I slept pretty well, so I got up and cleaned my weapon. I did yours, too, ‘cause it looked so dirty.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “I just passed out last night, I was so exhausted. I’m going to make us some breakfast; I owe you one, for cleaning my weapon.”

We checked around, to see what we could scrape up to eat: Green found a few packs of instant coffee and I found some powdered eggs. Army coffee isn’t really coffee, just looks like it, it has a cardboard taste to it. I loaded mine with sugar.

Sarge was up, looking around; he came over for some coffee. “It felt good to get some sleep,” he said; “we all deserved a quiet night, after yesterday.”

“Yes, sir,” Green smiled, as he replied; “it sure was something. Poor Doc, here, I think his hands is still shaking.”

Sarge gave us a rare smile. “Listen up, you two: the plan is that as soon as the supply choppers drop off, I want to get us back on the trail; we need to get moving while it’s still cool out. It’s a long hike to the 9th Marines.”

I could hear something, in the distance. It was faint at first, but the thumping sound was unmistakable: the supply chopper was on its way. Sarge keyed his radio and gave them our location, Green went around to get everyone up, while I set off some red smoke, to mark the clearing.

The drop off went smoothly, as everyone helped to get things unloaded. I got a new med kit and we all got supplies. To our surprise, though, they didn’t have much ammo.

The call came in as we were finishing morning chow, and getting ready to leave. Sarge came over with the radio, and a serious look on his face. “That was Bravo,” he said: “a Phantom jet went down, somewhere out there in our area. Bravo had radio contact with the pilot for a few minutes. There are two pilots out there – one of them is wounded.”

“Sarge,” Green enquired, “I thought we was going to be hookin’ up with them Marines.”

“I know that, and so does Com 1, but the Marines are going to have to wait,” Sarge replied; “we got new orders and we’re going to do our best to get those guys back.”

Just the thought of being stranded out there in the jungle, with the V.C. lurking about, gave me the creeps. I couldn’t wait to help them.

Sarge added: “Let’s go, guys. Pack it up and get ready: Air Cav. will be here in sixty minutes.”

The plan was for us to get on board, for a drop into the crash-site area. Sarge told us to check the rest of the guys out, while he called back to Com 1, for more details. As we moved out to the L.Z., and set off smoke, everyone was ready. I prayed we would find those guys and get them back to safety.

Green came over. “Okay, Doc, I’m ready to roll. I owe them flyboys one: they saved my black butt more than once.”

I could hear the thud of the choppers in the distance, and before long the Huey choppers were swooping down into the L.Z. 

Everyone jumped on board, quickly, and we headed out, over the treetops. There were plenty of supplies on board, and everyone loaded up. Thank God this included plenty of ammo.

Green was smiling at me; he knew I didn’t like riding in helicopters. “Hey, Doc, you okay?”

“Yeah, man,” I replied. “I’ll be alright when we’re back on the ground.”

After a while, Sarge yelled out, as he pointed out of the doorway: “There it is!”

There was the impact area. We could just make out large pieces of metal and broken tree limbs, as we flew by.

The chopper banked hard and slowed, as we prepared for the jump off. Sarge yelled out: “Okay, people, let’s lock and load! Everyone moves into the cover, on the double, as soon as we hit the ground. Stay sharp: we may not be the only ones looking for those pilots.”

The choppers descended into a small clearing, where we all jumped off and quickly followed Sarge into the jungle cover. 

He gathered us together, as he called in to base: “Bravo, this is R-Team. Copy. Be advised, we are at target area map grid sector five. Over.”

Bravo came back: “Copy that, R-Team: grid sector five is a go.”

Sarge checked the map and compass headings, then we moved toward the crash site. We stopped now and then, looking and listening for any movement, and it was slow going, as we pushed and hacked our way through the heavy cover. Sarge was on point, with Green and I close behind, as we came to a small clearing.

Sarge signaled hold. “Look there,” he said.

We could see some burned and broken tree limbs, and pieces of twisted metal; the smell of jet fuel filled the air, as we followed the path of the crashing plane. After a while, we found the two large sections of the jet: burned out and twisted hunks of metal. There was debris scattered all around the place, but no sign of the pilots anywhere, so we kept moving and searching.

Sarge signaled to hold, as we came out, to the edge of a large field. “Let’s take a break for a while. Everyone stay in the cover.”

Green and I sat and had some rations and water, as I looked out, across the field - there was a large hill on the other side of it.

“Do you think those men are out there?” Green asked.

“I think so,” I replied. “I just hope Charlie don’t find them first.”

“Amen to that, brother,” Green replied.

I was still looking out at the field, when something caught my eye up on the hilltop. I looked again, and at first there was nothing but green cover. Then, there it was again; I saw it: a small point of bright light, which momentarily flashed.

“Sarge!” I said, and he came over, “that may be a signal, coming from the hilltop.” I pointed at the hill: “Right up there, I saw a flash of bright light.”

We waited.

“Maybe it was the sunlight on the leaves, or someth…” Sarge replied. But, the flash came again, before he had finished talking. “I saw that,” he said.

“Me, too,” Green added.

Again, it flashed, and Sarge told us: “That’s our boys, alright; they must be using a mirror, or something to signal.”

I scanned the area with the field glasses, but I couldn’t see through the heavy cover.

“Okay, let’s go get them flyboys,” Sarge added.

He told us to keep spaced apart, as we started to move across the field. We were about thirty yards out, when the first R.P.G. flashed over our heads and exploded in the tree line.

“Damn it!” Sarge yelled out. “Everyone pull back! Pull back!”

Quickly, we ran for cover, as the sound of automatic weapons-fire started. The bullets were zipping and snapping around me, as I crawled into the cover, my adrenalin pumping as I retreated, along with the unit.

I noticed that my hands were trembling again, and I tried frantically to calm myself down, as we moved back, a good distance away from the field. Luckily, no one was hit.

Sarge gathered us together. He drew a circle in the dirt with his knife, as he talked: “This is the field; our pilots are here, at the southern end of it, on the hilltop. It looks like the V.C. is here, on the northern end, in the cover up there.

“Green, you and Doc take two men, with a stretcher and hook, around the south end, and try to get to our target - take a radio with you. I will take the rest of the team and circle around the north end; we’ll try to hit Charlie from his flank.”

“What if we can’t find them?” Green asked.

“Whether you find them or not, just sit tight when you get to the top of the hill; wait for us to move to you. Make sure you get down in the cover and keep your weapons ready.” He then gave the order: “Let’s move out.”

We moved out, double-time, keeping the field in sight as we circled around it.

Green signaled to hold. He pointed up the hill, to the signal from the pilots: “There it is again.”

“I just hope the damn V.C. don’t see it,” I replied.

We started moving up the hill, stopping now and then to check for movement, until, finally, we got to the hilltop area. Green signaled hold again.

“Doc, I think it’s them, over there.” He was pointing to a large, downed tree.

I checked with the field glasses. It took me a minute to focus, and I slowly scanned the tree. “There,” I said; “I see something.” 

There was movement on the top of the hill, alongside the tree. I could just about see what looked like a man in uniform, moving, then leaning against the tree. He was holding something and moving it about, creating a bright flash of light. “It’s them, alright,” I said.

The plan was for Green to move toward them and make contact, while we covered him. We waited as he moved closer, then shortly we heard voices, and Green signaled us to come over. I could see one of the pilots standing next to Green, as we moved over to them. He grabbed my hand.

“Man, I am sure glad to see you guys,” he said. “My partner needs help.” 

He led us into the cover, where the wounded pilot was sitting, with his back against a downed tree. I checked him over and found that his leg was fractured; he was in a lot of pain, and seemed to be going into shock.

“My leg is killing me!” he said. “Help me, please! My leg!” 

I gave him a shot of morphine and tried to calm him down. A look of relief came over his face, as the morphine took effect. “Thanks,” he said; “I really needed that.”

I did my best to wrap and immobilize his leg. Then, I put a blanket around him and gave him some water, telling him to try to keep his leg still and rest.

His partner came over; “How is he doing?”

I told him his buddy should be okay, but we needed to get him to the hospital. The other men gave me a hand, as we slowly moved him onto the stretcher. 

Green told us we needed to stay in the cover and wait for the unit to come for us, then he keyed the radio: “R-Team Two to R-Team One. Do you copy? Over.”

Sarge came back on the radio: “We copy that, R-Team Two. How is the hunting up there?”

“Good,” Green replied: “we got us a couple o’ big ones. Copy.”

“Roger that,” Sarge answered. “We’re on our way.”

We shared some food and water with the pilots, as we watched and waited. After a while, Green got up. “You guys sit tight,” he said; “I’m going for a better look at that field.”

I checked on the wounded pilot: he was doing a little better.

“Thanks for coming for us,” he said. “Thank God you found us.”

“No problem: you guys help us when we need it, with your napalm and rockets. We’re relieved that we found you; we all have to help each other.”

I heard movement, coming toward us. Thankfully, it was Green. But, as he got closer, I could sense that something was wrong: his eyes were bulging wide, as he spoke. “We got us some bad company coming,” he said: “Charlie is slowly moving toward us from the field; looks to be at least a dozen V.C., or more.”

I called in to Bravo 1 and gave them the news. They said they were coming ASAP, and told us to hold tight.

“You two flyboys stay here,” Green said, handing the pilot his .45 pistol. “The four of us are going on back to the spot I just came from; we should be able to see them coming. We’ll get in the cover and spread out, so it looks like there are more of us, if the shooting starts - maybe we can catch them by surprise. Remember, no one fires until I do.”

We moved toward the edge of the hill, slowly crawling, until we could see through the cover and down the hillside, into the field below. At first, I didn’t see anything; I took out the field glasses, for a closer look.

Then I saw them, moving out from behind a large tree: the V.C. was about three-hundred yards downhill, moving slowly in our direction. They kept stopping and looking, as they combed the hillside. They were armed mostly with rifles, some had AK-47s, though I didn’t see any R.P.G. launchers, yet.

The adrenalin was pumping, and I could see that my hands were starting to shake again. I prayed for us, and that Sarge would get here in time. I fought my fear and tried to stay calm, as they moved closer and closer.

They were about a hundred yards downhill, when Green opened fire. 

We all joined in, and the V.C. started to scramble for cover. I kept firing and reloading, as quickly as possible, and I hit at least two of them, as they moved across my field of fire. Some of the V.C. went down for good, while others were returning fire, as they moved into the cover. After that, I couldn’t see them anymore. Maybe they withdrew, I hoped.

Green called out: “Cease fire! Hold your fire!”

The incoming fire had stopped, as Green came crawling over to me. “I think we got us most of them V.C. You okay, Doc?”

“I’m alright,” I replied. “We all better just sit tight and wait for Sarge.”

Suddenly, an R.P.G. round flashed overhead, and exploded behind us. The blast shook the ground.

The V.C. started shooting at us again, and we returned fire.

Then, I heard the sound of M-16 gunfire, from the hillside and below, and I checked with the field glasses. Thank God: it was Sarge and the unit - they were coming up on the V.C. from the hillside, and firing into them; we had them trapped in our crossfire. We kept firing, until what few there were left had run for their lives. The shooting slowed to a stop, as Green signaled to hold fire.

He keyed his radio, and we went back to check on the pilots - I was relieved to see that they were okay.

“That R.P.G. scared the hell out of us,” the pilot said. “Are the V.C. gone?”

“I just called in to Sarge,” Green replied: “he said that the area is secure. Let’s get going.”

I checked the wounded pilot and told the men to take it easy, as they moved him on the light weight stretcher. Then, we moved out and hooked up with Sarge and the rest of the unit. Some of them were checking the dead V.C. and searching the hillside.

Sarge came over. “Doc, how is our flyboy doing?” he asked.

“Okay,” I replied, “but we need to get him to the hospital; he has a nasty fracture.”

“Not a problem, Doc,” Sarge nodded. “Man, that was close! We heard the firefight start, but I wasn’t sure we would get here in time. Still, we made it; Charlie never knew what hit him!”

He called the rest of the team over. “Okay, men, let’s get the hell out of here. We’ll use this field for our L.Z. Let’s set up a perimeter, just in case Charlie is still around. We need to secure the enemy’s weapons and ammo.  And, Com 1 will want a body count on those dead V.C.”

Sarge checked his compass and map, then called in for the extraction, as we set some smoke to mark the L.Z.

Green and I sat there, watching the orange smoke, drifting over the field. “Doc, that sure was scary,” he said. “Were you scared, when those V.C. started coming at us?”

“Sure I was scared. But now, when I realize that we saved those men from the V.C., it was worth it.”

Green smiled, “You got that right, Doc. It does make me feel better, to see them make it back.”

Sarge came over. He didn’t look very happy. “That was Bravo. We’re going back to the L.Z. we jumped off from. The choppers will be here soon.” He added: “We get one day for some rest and resupply, then Bravo still wants us to get to that damn hill, with the Marines.”

Green smiled: “Just one day off? Come on, Sarge; I could use me a week.”

Sarge put his hand on my shoulder, as he spoke: “Listen, guys: I get my orders just like you. Hell, we’re all tired, but we have to get the job done. I want you guys to know that you did damn well out here, today; I’m proud of the whole unit.” Sarge then left with Green, to check the perimeter.

Before long, I could hear the familiar sound of the choppers, growing louder. I couldn’t wait to get to the L.Z. and rest my weary bones. I thanked God that we didn’t lose anyone today.