Undaunted Valor
An Assault Helicopter Unit in Vietnam
By
Matt Jackson
Introduction
T his is a fictional work, based on actual events that occurred between February 5, 1968, and August 1, 1970. Some names are fictitious, as I wish to protect individuals identities in some cases. Names that appear on the Vietnam Memorial in the National Mall have been used, as it is my intent to honor those individuals that gave all. Conversations depicted are fictitious but represent what was said or would have been said under the circumstances. I have attempted to use slang that was typical of pilots, such as niner for the number nine. Racial slurs towards the Vietnamese have been included for accuracy and are not appropriate by todays standards, but soldiers in combat, even today, still apply slurs towards their enemy. Not every event that impacted the company during this period is covered, but only those that I felt highlighted the various missions we undertook. Some events I would just rather not recall, but it was wisely pointed out to me that those events are just as important as other events. Events portrayed are close to the actual sequence in which they occurred.
I have focused on one company of the 227th Assault Helicopter Battalion, 11th Aviation Group, 1st Air Cavalry Division. In addition, I have focused mostly on the pilots of that one company, Alpha Company, as that is the unit I flew with and knew the best. It should be noted, however, that the 227th Assault Helicopter Battalion consisted of three assault helicopter companies, an attack helicopter company and a headquarters company. Each played a vital role in the battalions success, making it one of the most highly decorated units of the US Army. Without the effort of everyone in each unit, the 227th AHB would have been just another aviation unit, to be disbanded after the war. It is still serving today at Fort Hood, Texas, upholding the traditions established in Vietnam. Missions indicated were flown by each of the assault helicopter companies in both the 227th AHB and our sister battalion, the 229th AHB.
I have thought about writing this for the past forty-eight years. As I wrote, I felt it was important to relate to those great soldiers that made this such a great company. We all have a journey in life, with many crossroads, curves and offshoots. The synergistic effect created by individual journeys coming together at this point in time, at this location, created an organization that truly stood above the rest. The quality of an organization ebbs and flows with the quality of the leadership and the dedication, personalities and expertise of the individuals present at a particular time. During this time period, I witnessed the synergism of the unit only increase further with each passing month.
This story is important so that people know who the helicopter crews were and what they were asked to do and did. In 196465, the Army ramped up the Warrant Officer Candidate Program to meet the expanding need for helicopter pilots in Vietnam. Between 1965 and 1971, 44,000 warrant officer cadets were awarded flight wings. Most were high school graduates and some had some college. The average age of pilots, crew chiefs and door gunners was twenty years old. Badly needed, they were trained quickly and given enormous responsibility to maintain a very complex piece of equipment. Our aircraft were not as sophisticated as the machines today, but the UH-1D and the UH-1H models were exceptional, forgiving workhorses without which this war could not have been waged. Of the 5,000 UH-1 helicopters that went to Vietnam starting in 1962, over 3,300 were destroyed in combat. This undeclared war also could not have been waged without the young men that supported, maintained, and crewed these aircraft.
Todays Army Aviation crews are some of the best in the world. They can be on target in thirty seconds plus or minus with the latest in GPS navigation equipment and can operate at night with night vision goggles. Vietnam crews had no night vision goggles, and navigation was by a map, compass and clock, but we flew formations at night, operated at night and were also on target in thirty seconds plus or minus.
It is also important that this story be told because there are unique lessons to be learned when flying in a hot, humid jungle environment. Too often, the US military is accused of preparing today for the last war and not the next war. Only through historical writings, be they official Army publications or historical novels, can current pilots learn lessons for future operations. Not since the Vietnam Conflict has the US Army had to operate in a jungle environment on any large scale. Ignore history and we will repeat history. Ignore the lessons we learned in this environment and they will only be taught again, tragically.
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2019 by Gary J.Bridges
This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
It Begins
T he trip started on February 5, 1968, at the Military Entrance and Processing Station (MEPS) in Portland, Oregon. It was a long day of filling out paperwork, stripping naked with sixty other guys and being examined by what appeared to be a doctor. After having blood drawn, I was informed I had syphilis.
Fortunately, being raised a Navy brat, with a father that had come up through the ranks, I had been around the military long enough to recognize that some of those serving were not the sharpest knives in the drawer, and this guy struck me as among the dullest. And since I was older than most present for this medical newsand not officially in the military yet questioning the informant was not a problem.
Hey, medic, you want to check that again?
Annoyed, he double-checked his clipboard, the sign of authority around here, it appeared.
All right, whats your number again?
Number fifty-one.
Oh, this isnt you. Number fifteen, come in here.
Had the medic passed his reading test? Late that afternoon, the MEPS staff deemed me worthy to join the ranks. Raising our right hands, we all took the Oath of Allegiance. Those of us that were flight school wannabes were escorted to a waiting cab that was to take us to the airport. There were antiwar protesters blocking the front door, so we went out the back, through an abandoned storefront. Instead of bands playing as we went off to combat as our grandfathers had experienced, we were sneaking out the back door.
The flight to Fort Worth, Texas, was an all-night affair as it was the last flight out of Portland that night. The flight was half-full. A flash-in-the-pan rock band was on board, corralling the attention of the stewardess for the whole flight. Two future soldiers were of no interest to her, and we didnt even look like soldiers yet.
Changing planes in Fort Worth, we boarded a prop airplane from Trans-Texas Airways along with thirteen other guys heading to Fort Polk, Louisiana. I had some flight training and held a private pilots license, so I noticed little things, like the fuel cap dangling from a chain on the wing. Small detail. I notified the stewardess, who informed someone in the cockpit. The pilot wasnt happy, stopping the plane on the taxiway, getting out and placing the cap in position. I should have paid more attention to Fort Worth, as I would be returning here after basic training.
