Mission at Dak To

A CH-47 "Chinook" at Dak To
We flew plenty of resupply in the Kontum – Dac To areas and I think they were always “hot” due to the proximity to the Ho Chi Minh trail, Cambodia and Laos. Flying from Kontum to Dac To up highway 14 put you in a vulnerable position because the highway was at the bottom of a valley between two mountain ranges. You could look to the right and left and see nothing but steep high ground which frequently hid 51 caliber machine gun positions. We took a lot of small arms fire in this valley and you gained an uncomfortable sense of the concentration of the enemy force that was there.

My first exposure to the aftermath of battle was during resupply of a company size unit on hill 875 close to Dac To. The unit had been assaulted during the night by a very large enemy force and a fierce fire fight ensued. After loading up ammo and medical supplies in Kontum we flew back to Dac To. Hill 875 was northwest of Dak To and after finding it on our tactical map we had no trouble locating it and called the unit telling them we would be working for them for the day and were inbound with a load of C’s and meds. Nothing could have prepared us for what we found. Hill 875 and the surrounding area were almost totally barren of trees and vegetation. We identified the LZ by the smoke grenade ignited, called the color and made our approach from about 500 feet. All the way from the base of the hill to the perimeter concertina wire there were literally hundreds of green colored “lumps”. As we got lower to the helipad we identified the “lumps” as dead NVA troops. There was so many that in some areas close to the perimeter wire they were two and three deep stacked on one another. AK-47 rifles, ammunition, grenades, backpacks and pith helmets littered the ground as well. We were told later that this had been a regimental size “human wave assault”. To defend the position, the artillery pieces had been depressed to aim straight down the hill, loaded with what was called “beehive” rounds and fired at the advancing enemy. This round is loaded with 8,000 8-grain steel flechettes and was strictly used as perimeter defense ordinance. This ammunition was fired by the 105 howitzers. The company also defended itself with their M-16’s, M-79 grenade launchers, shotguns, pistols hand grenades, hand to hand fighting and bayonets. On the opposite side of the resupply pad were row upon row of the dark green rubberized body bags awaiting pickup for their final trip home. There is no need to get any more graphic about this horrible sight but it had a profound effect on all of us. We flew mostly in silence as we made our way back and forth from Dak To and Kontum delivering ammo, meds and C’s. Other Huey’s flew “dust off” at the same time, first removing the injured and then those that had perished. We were released in the evening and silently hoped we would never have to witness anything like this again. This happened 39 years ago and will haunt me forever as as one of my worst experiences of the war.

A Hero is gone.

On December 3rd, 1929 Richard Briggs Haskell was born, eventually graduated from West Point in 1952, met and married my mom and became my step-father. He was a 1st Lieutenant in the U.S. Army when I met him. He served in Viet Nam as an “Advisor” during 1964 in Quang Ni province trying to teach the ARVN’s how to be soldiers. A “B” model he was a passenger on was shot down by the gooks but landed without any damage so I figure some wise and weathered CW-2 or CW-3 saved his life. Whoever that was, I’m forever indebted to you!
Dad left the service in 1972 and settled in California to finish raising the rest of the family, eventually moved to Nevada and from there moved to Perryman, Maryland where he enjoyed his grandchildren, continued to fly as a private pilot, played golf and was a great provider for Mom.
Dad passed away on Tuesday, October 23rd 2007. He was 78.

Attention in the company area!

According to my flight records, (DA 759) I flew a lot of night time in May through July, 1968.  I most likely was flying a mission called “Nighthawk,” which was a recon or observation flight that normally launched at dusk and ended at sunrise the next morning.  Many other aviation units had this same type of mission with the same name or whatever they came up with.   So this closely approximated a third shift schedule and caused the crew to sleep during the day. 

The mission was not too popular among most of the aviators for some reason and the enlisted crew didn’t really have any choice.  A hooch mate and I liked the advantages of flying during the cool of night and the variety things you might encounter during eight to ten hours of flying then. 

The Warrant officer hooch’s normally had three aviators assigned and we slept mid-morning until evening chow time.  Everyone knew our sleep schedule and tried to limit excess noise.  They also knew if we got awakened too much, they might have to fill in for us so it was a pretty good system. 

During this time the orderly room got a PA system that had speakers in the enlisted area that was adjacent to our area.  The system was loud enough and when used enough it would awaken us and quickly became very unpopular with the Nighthawk crew members while we tried to get rest during the day.  We discovered that the wires from the orderly room to the speakers were run under the eaves of the building our hooch was in.  In fact, right by our hooch windows.  After a nearly sleepless day we snipped the wires and that solved the noise problem for a week or so while the breaks were tracked down and spliced.  Then the booming, “Attention in the Company Area” resumed and we hatched a plot to end the problem more permanently. 

This time, we snipped the wires and brought the end that went to the orderly room into our hooch and plugged them into an 110V outlet.  (We were told later that the amp in the orderly room literally went up in smoke!)  So that ended the announcements and allowed the Nighthawk crews to sleep. 

The speakers were still installed in the enlisted area so we ran the wires from them into our hooch and attached them to one of our stereo amps.  We made our own announcements like, This Place Sucks! with tremolo or reverb effects and high volume.  We played, “We gotta get out of this place” by the Animals which was well received!  Someone finally took down the speakers so that was the end of the PA system and a lot of enjoyment.

Instructor Pilot duty

After about six months in Nam I became an IP or instructor pilot. I gave "In country" familiarization flights to new pilots, checked out experienced pilots as AC’s (or aircraft commanders) and gave post accident check rides to pilots that had been involved in accidents. Occasionally, I would ride with a pilot that made too many mistakes or exhibited poor judgment. I really enjoyed being an IP as it honed my skills and kept me on top of emergency procedures. It also enhanced my communication skills. On a couple occasions, I flew with guys that had such traumatic experiences that they were like new students at Fort Wolters. One relatively new pilot was so scrambled when his Huey crashed exiting a revetment that he never went back on flight status again and just hung out in the Company area. He was eventually shipped back home.

I also did post maintenance aircraft check outs of Hueys that had engine replacements performed, main or tail rotor blades replaced or just about anything else that created a “Red X” or non-flyable aircraft status. I never left the traffic pattern during maintenance check outs because of the possibility of an engine failure or other mechanical malfunction. Sometimes the bird would take hits in the main or tail rotor blades or other parts of the aircraft and there would be concealed damage somewhere else that in the haste of getting the aircraft back up would be missed. I had several engine and other mechanical failures hovering out to the active runway or in the pattern that were a genuine embarrassment to the maintenance guys. I told them honestly that it was a lot better for me to discover it flying solo than with a full crew and a load of grunts in a combat assault. Newly released Hueys were always assigned to very experienced AC’s or the unit IP. Only after 10 or 20 hours were the aircraft placed on the completely flyable list for missions.

Going home!

When ones DEROS, (Date Eligible for Return From Overseas) was attained, your tour was complete. A week or so before you went home you packed all the stuff you had accumulated and sent it back home. Most of us had acquired open reel tape decks, speakers, turntables and tuner amplifiers, which were dirt cheap in Nam. Everything was inspected to insure mainly that you wern't sending back slides or photos that proved positively that we were killing people and being killed in the process. I think they also looked for arms, ammunition, explosives and drugs but I’m not really sure. The last night in country invariably turned into a huge party that was an impromptu “roast” of the departing aviator. Needless to say, liquor flowed freely enough to provide him with a hangover that would last until he got home. I was lucky enough to hitch a ride to Ton Son Nuit Air Force base on one of our Hueys which made the trip to deliver me to the “Freedom Bird” but mainly to allow the pilots and crew to go to the big PX there.

You got checked in for your flight, selected the appropriate uniform for the season back home and then spent that last night whooping it up at the Air Force Officers Club. It seemed like the Air Force pilots took a special liking to us Army pilots for some reason and any Air Force officers club we visited treated us very well. (The F-4 Phantom pilots all thought we were borderline lunatics for flying some of the missions we did.)

The next day was emotion charged as you checked in again and finally boarded the big Boeing 707 for the trip home. During the takeoff roll the cheering started and when we felt the wheels “thunk” into the wells there was back slapping, more cheering and crying all around. Many guys brought liquor with them even though it was forbidden to do so and quickly another party was going full blast. We slept through most of the flight and soon we were on final approach and the cheering started again. It crested when we felt the wheels touch the ground and knew we were finally home alive. Many of us knelt down and kissed the ground when we exited the aircraft we were so happy. We entered the terminal at Seattle, Washington, claimed our duffle bags and tried to make our way to telephones or to arrange further flights to get home.

There were large groups of protesters in full hippie regalia that chanted slogans and even attempted to spit on us as walked through the terminal. We were warned prior to landing not to get into any altercations with the protestors. We were called baby murderers, killers, assassins and all sorts of other things and it was frustrating and confusing to be welcomed home this way. Most of us couldn’t change out of uniform and into civilian clothing fast enough. It was comforting to get on another flight for the final trip home to our wives and families. I’ve read that reports of the protestors demonstrating and spitting on the returning servicemen was a myth or legend but it was the real thing. None of us liked the Vietnam war either but few of us had any choice about being there.