At the close of this Easter Sunday I am reflecting... as with every Easter Sunday.
It was 1971. I was the right gunner on a Marine Helicopter on one of those "top secret" missions. We were briefed early that morning that our mission was to fly an entire battalion of marines into Laos.
The purpose... to attempt to liberate a POW camp and rescue our men there.
We could carry no ID and were instructed that if we were shot down and killed or captured that we would not be recognized as ever having existed. Every one that participated that day were volunteers... knowing the stipulations...
We were determined, knowing that our men depended on our efforts... knowing they would do the same for us...
It was strange flying along the Hoy An river on that Easter day listening to the military radio station playing Easter music knowing what probably lay ahead of us.
My first thoughts as our helicopter began to tremble and shudder was that we were taking anti-aircraft fire. I quickly looked down below to see great shock waves blasting away trees and tundra... like seeing the expanding ripples of water reaching out after throwing a rock into a still pond... 5,000 pound concussion bombs that were making our landing zones out of the raw jungle floor.
We descended in wave after wave of choppers dropping off our marines on the newly blasted out zones.
It was eerily calm... no enemy fire... until the last marine got off the last chopper... then the dance began.
Our men were in sort of a valley surrounded by three mountains... three mountains that now erupted in volley after volley of artillery and automatic weapons fire down into the valley... down onto our newly deployed infantry.
It was a very long day.
The rest of the day was spent attempting to extract our troops from the sights of the enemy.
We were told later that the communist insurgents would have had to have know at least three days in advance that we were coming to have staged such an effective response to our presence... someone had sold us out.
One medivac my chopper hoisted up was actually a uniformed Chinese Communist Officer. He had been wounded by our marines fire... but we wanted him real bad... for intelligence.
It was strange hovering there, over the trees, in the direct line of enemy fire, to hoist up a wounded enemy combatant... but that was our orders... and we delivered.
We were able to retrieve all our troops from the ground... the wounded... the angry... and the dead.
I don't know who sold us out that day... but I know his name must have been Judas.
It was a very long day.
That was Easter Sunday, 1971.
I am grateful to have celebrated this Easter, 2009, with dear friends, family, and brethren in God's family and kingdom.
xtnyoda, shalomed
It was 1971. I was the right gunner on a Marine Helicopter on one of those "top secret" missions. We were briefed early that morning that our mission was to fly an entire battalion of marines into Laos.
The purpose... to attempt to liberate a POW camp and rescue our men there.
We could carry no ID and were instructed that if we were shot down and killed or captured that we would not be recognized as ever having existed. Every one that participated that day were volunteers... knowing the stipulations...
We were determined, knowing that our men depended on our efforts... knowing they would do the same for us...
It was strange flying along the Hoy An river on that Easter day listening to the military radio station playing Easter music knowing what probably lay ahead of us.
My first thoughts as our helicopter began to tremble and shudder was that we were taking anti-aircraft fire. I quickly looked down below to see great shock waves blasting away trees and tundra... like seeing the expanding ripples of water reaching out after throwing a rock into a still pond... 5,000 pound concussion bombs that were making our landing zones out of the raw jungle floor.
We descended in wave after wave of choppers dropping off our marines on the newly blasted out zones.
It was eerily calm... no enemy fire... until the last marine got off the last chopper... then the dance began.
Our men were in sort of a valley surrounded by three mountains... three mountains that now erupted in volley after volley of artillery and automatic weapons fire down into the valley... down onto our newly deployed infantry.
It was a very long day.
The rest of the day was spent attempting to extract our troops from the sights of the enemy.
We were told later that the communist insurgents would have had to have know at least three days in advance that we were coming to have staged such an effective response to our presence... someone had sold us out.
One medivac my chopper hoisted up was actually a uniformed Chinese Communist Officer. He had been wounded by our marines fire... but we wanted him real bad... for intelligence.
It was strange hovering there, over the trees, in the direct line of enemy fire, to hoist up a wounded enemy combatant... but that was our orders... and we delivered.
We were able to retrieve all our troops from the ground... the wounded... the angry... and the dead.
I don't know who sold us out that day... but I know his name must have been Judas.
It was a very long day.
That was Easter Sunday, 1971.
I am grateful to have celebrated this Easter, 2009, with dear friends, family, and brethren in God's family and kingdom.
xtnyoda, shalomed
posted by XtnYoda at 10:32 PM
2 Comments:
Amazing story Chuck. Thank you for your service Sir.
It was an honor.
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