Trafford Publishing: Choppers Up!

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Choppers Up!

by S.W. Henry

246 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-1014; ISBN 1-4120-3187-7; US$24.99, C$32.00, EUR20.80, £14.41

Timothy Dundee, a young US army helicopter pilot of the Vietnam War attempts to overcome the incongruities of this "unwinable" war, while his Vietnamese counterpart, Dinh Chau, plots his destruction.

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About the Book About the Author Excerpts Catalogue Information

About the Book

Choppers Up! is a story of war and its futility, the young lives wasted and the devastation of landscapes and families. Warrant Officer Timothy D. Dundee is a very young helicopter pilot in an assault company in the US Army during the Vietnam War. His encounters give a graphic account of day-to-day life in combat. In his Army unit there is action, love, sex and simple military humor typical of that found in the jungles of Vietnam with men trying to do a job against impossible odds.
The parallel story of Vietnamese activist Dinh Chau and his sister Nguyen provides a fascinating contrast, showing life on the other side. It also highlights the conflict among the country's people and the uncertainity of their nation.
The Saigon River Massacre changes Timothy's perception of the "honorable" war. The order is given to destroy a Sampan (steamship) loaded with civilian women and children. The haunting memory of children in his gun sight changes Timothy's whole outlook on life. Clandestine "Spook" missions, in Cambodia add to Timothy's discomfort and loathing of this "unwinable" war in Vietnam.

About the Author

S W Henry has lived through or participated in four massacres, the first one in the Philippine Islands as a lad of five years. The second one occured in Shanghai as a lad of ten. The third one occured in Korea when he was overrun by Chinese hoards and had to fight his way out to safety. The last and most tragic massacre he witnessed was in Vietnam when the US military destroyed a cruise ship filled with innocent women and children on the Saigon River.
He was a general's flying aid for two years and was also convicted by a US Army General Courts Marital for conspiracy.
Flying fixed wing aircraft and helicopters in the military for twenty years, he experienced eight complete engine failures in helicopters, forcing him to land in a river, a rose garden and on top of a tall pine tree. This last emergency occurred with a three star general on board.
He also participated in many air sea rescues and life saving flights in helicopters. The first was in 1957 off the coast of California in a raging storm at night, in a Sikorsky helicopter.
As the commanding officer (CO) of the helicopter Unit that rescues hundreds of drowning Korean children and families during the typhoon that struck Korea in 1965, he received the Golden Key to the city, making him an honorary citizen of Korea.
Last, but not least, while the CO of a Helicopter Assault Company in the 1st Infantry Division, (Big Red One) in Vietnam he flew the Aussies in and out of the jungle until they received their own transportation.
Also during this time period he was a Bordello Operator. Right outside the company perimeter on the outskirts of Phu Loi was the prettiest little hotel called Sherwood Forest, where the prettiest, French perfumed postitutes, dressed in Au Dais, plied their trade. In order to keep his men from becoming infected with VD, he had to either close them down or make it safe for his men to indulge. He chose the latter. Having a doctor assigned to the company the doctor utilized his skills to inspect and clear up any VD he found. The doctor complained at first but when he saw how pretty the girls were he fulfilled his task with enthusiasm. The big brass were never the wiser.
His flying career and adventures continued after his retirement from the military and saw him log over 10,000 flying hours. An as yet unpublished autobiography details his exploits.
Through his experiences in Vietnam, S W Henry was inspired to write Choppers Up!, a compelling story of a young helicopter pilot's wartime encounters.

Excerpts
Introduction

Not since the Civil War has the nation been so divided as to have Americans taking up arms against fellow Americans. I was one of the first to arrive in Vietnam at the beginning of the 'build up' in 1965 and it didn't take me long to realize that this was a politician's war and that there wasn't any desire by the hierarchy to come to a reasonable solution in the near future. There was no consideration given to the Vietnamese villagers as they were savaged by both combatants. It was very upsetting to us young commanders who would make friends with the villagers during the daylight hours then have to shoot into their homes at night when the Viet Cong returned to extol their vengeance. It would have been so much easier to incorporate the villagers into our defense systems and then expand these compounds to take in the entire southern portion of Vietnam. The main principal of an Infantry solider is to take and hold land and deny it access to the enemy. If we had incorporated the ARVIN (South Vietnamese) troops with our forces and the village chiefs, we would have won easily. Instead we alienated the villagers and the ARVIN troops that entered the villages were as ruthless as the Viet Cong. They raped and pillaged while we stood back and allowed it occur. There was no way we could have won under these conditions.
The American solider performed gallantly under such adverse conditions never before encountered in any other war. He was told that he came to Vietnam as a liberator but soon found himself despised as much as the forces he was fighting. He soon recognized what was going on but still performed his duty without question. I had one tour in Vietnam and was scheduled to return, and would have if there had been any hope of winning the war. Instead of deserting, like the protagonist Timmy in this story I decided to retire. I could have spent another ten years in the service of my country but this was a terrible tragedy and my conscience wouldn't allow me to contribute to the death and suffering of more GI's and Vietnamese civilians.
S W Henry
Chapter One

The big, Northwest Orient Airlines 'Red Tail' completed its turn on to final approach to Saigon International Airport when I noticed a streak of orange tracers light up the dark, cloudless sky. "Look lieutenant!" I exclaimed excitedly, pressing my finger against the small glass window of the 707.
The lieutenant casually looked out my window and said succinctly. "Timmy tha-sa friendly fire, man, VC don' use no tracer." He bobbed his head up and down as if contemplating what he had just said, then leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
"Hey Timmy! Let's go man!"
The Lieutenant's words galvanized me into action. I started struggling with my two duffle bags and saw other men of my group doing the same. One thing struck me as strange as we walked towards the aircraft, the variance of uniforms worn by the soldiers; some in khakis, others in fatigues, but most wearing the new jungle greens which were light and more suitable to hot weather. One soldier was dressed in wintergreen, wool uniform, including blouse, and I wondered how he could stand the scorching heat. Although it was only 7:15, in the morning it was already unbearably hot and sultry. July is not the time to be traveling in South Vietnam, besides the myriads of biting insects, the heat and humidity is overpowering.
Throwing my bags against the side of the 'copter next to the oil can I sat down on top of them. The crew member had a last word with the sergeant on the ramp then turned and gave the pilot in the cockpit the thumbs up sign. The blades started to rotate faster and the aircraft began to rock back and forth. My God, what a racket the engine made! It was located in the rear of the aircraft behind the bulkhead I was leaning against. In a few minutes we were taxing down a parallel taxiway picking up speed. The helicopter lifted its main gear first, then after running with its nose gear still on the taxiway, lifted into the air. It gave me the impression that the aircraft was standing on its head.
"Please Dinh Chau, I can't go any further." Nguyen pleaded as she tried to pull away from her brother's strong grip. They had been traveling for several hours since the explosion and were exhausted from the effort. Dinh Chau sweated profusely from having to carry his sister and the tension of being hunted by the police. Twice they had to suck and hide under a building while a patrol searched the neighboring street. Under one building they were almost betrayed by the screaming of a startled pig sow with a litter of shoats. Dinh Chau grunted and snorted like a boar hog, a trick he learned on his father's farm when he was young. This appeased the troubled mother. Dogs were the greatest problem they encountered, barking at them from under every house, street or alley.
"I'll never own another dog." Dinh Chau grumbled as they were forced to detour down a narrow alley, a scroungy, flea bitten, yellow mongrel yapping at their heels.
"Do you want to end up in Paula Condor?" Tran Phu growled. Changing the subject quickly he asked. "When did you see Doc Trang last?"
Dinh Chau had already related the circumstances of his departure from Doc Trang but patiently related, step by step, the events of the previous evening.
"Did Doc Trang give you instructions before you parted company?"Tran Phu asked, shifting in his seat.
"No, not really, we didn't have time... oh, he said he would meet me in three days at Cholon's old market place, day after tomorrow."
"Hmmmmmmmmmmm, that's a consolation. He is probably hiding in the old city somewhere. Good. You are tired, no doubt. I'll get Cul to make you a pallet in the attic till we can move you."
"I'd like to take Nguyen home to Tay Ninh where she can be taken care of. If..."
"We'll see, there are many important things about to happen here and we might need you..."
"Phu Loi!"Shouted the white helmeted crewmember above the din of the engine, clearing his machine gun of the round in its chamber and motioning me towards the door. I moved quickly out the door as he gave my bags a helpful shove with his big combat boots. The pilot "pulled pitch" and started moving away immediately. Red dust rose up and blinded me as the down wash blew across the ramp sending my fatigue cap flying. When the dusted had settled and I could see again, I looked for some kind of building or passenger terminal where I could report my arrival. I was as the end of a large, flat, open area that I judged to be about two miles square. The surface of the entire area seemed covered by some kind of red asphalt that I had never seen before. On both sides of the landing strip I could see serried rows of tents.
"Phu Loi, flight of three helicopters on short final, where do you want up us to park?"
"Flight of three, cleared to land, land behind the last flight of 'Hubs' on the north side of the runway, over."
"Roger, Phu Loi... HEY! WE'RE DRAWING FIRE! PHU LOI I'VE BEEN HIT! WE'RE BREAKING TRAFFIC!"
Then we heard the distant staccato of the machine gun, rrrrrip, rrrrrrip.
"My co-pilot has been hit...He's hit bad, Phu Loi, do you have a doctor available?"
"That's affirmative, fly around and land in front of the tower on runway zero-niner. I'll have the ambulance and doctor here by time of your arrival."
I grabbed a bag and started stuffing it into the back of the jeep when the sergeant arrived and threw the other bag in on top. We mounted the vehicle and drove by several empty revetments, passed on a huge dilapidated maintenance tent, out of which protruded the tails of several helicopters, and finally stopped in front of another large tent with a wooden sign over the entrance. On it was written, BULLDOG OPERATIONS.
I thanked the sergeant for the lift and pulled my bags out of the back of the vehicle and dumped them on the ground by the entrance.
"Welcome to Bulldog Company" he said as he drove away.
Dinh Chau slept all day and well into the night. He was awakened by the sounds of a girl laughing in the room below. As he listened he recognized the deeper voice of a man talking, softly coaxing.
"No, no, I'm not that kind of girl. No! Don't please, oh please, oh, oh..."
Then the bedsprings began to creak, slowly at first, then faster, rhythmically.
Dinh Chau sat up on his hard, straw pallet and tried to determine where he was. It was pitch black, so dark it didn't make any difference whether he had his eyes open or closed. His brain was still clouded from the deep slumber, then it began to return to him. He was in the attic of his friend and compatriot Tran Phu. Then he heard the springs working below.
At the word sister Dinh Chau reacted automatically. "My sister? How is she? Is she better?"
"Yes, yes, she is much better. I was able to have a doctor replace the splint that you and Doc Trang applied. Very good job you boys did, by the way."
Dinh Chau picked up the clothing, inspecting them with a critical eye; blue shorts, knee high socks and a little blue beanie with a small bill.
"Those clothes will make you look younger and be your passport to Tay Ninh." Tran Phu commented with a supercilious smile. "Nobody ever questions the integrity of the Boy Scouts." He turned and disappeared out the door.
Dinh Chau silently watched that man across from him and waited for him to commence. The man was very deliberate in his actions and seemed to be celebrating deeply. "I am known as Mr. Pencil," he mumbled, still looking down at the table in front of him, "more you don't have to know. I am going to give you important information that you remember everything I tell you. Whenever an important individual like Doc Trang is captured it is most probably that our code has been revealed. The enemy has ways of making men talk. This message will be sent by several couriers and different methods to insure its transmission, however, it is imperative that all couriers arrive safely as no one will have a complete message or code. This is again to safeguard the system. You have been told where you are to pass over into 'friendly' hands. I believe you have family relations there, don't you?" He turned slightly and looked at Dinh Chau out of the corner of his eye.
As the group approached the crossroad they were astonished at what they saw. Sitting in the middle of the road behind a wooden, folding table on a hardback wicker chair was a neatly dressed man calmly collecting watches, jewelry and counting money. Several men, pleading for their lives, stood in front of the man while soldiers with bayonets prodded and pricked their naked bodies. One grotesque, unidentifiable corpse lay on its back its head and chest a bloody pulp. At the sight of this scene old Duc Khoi stopped and tried to say something. Several soldiers surrounded the group waving bloody bayonets, threatening to use them.
All of a sudden, and it happened so quickly that everyone was stunned and immobilized, helicopters began landing in the open fields beside the long line of parked cars. Everyone scattered or dove into the ditches along the side of the road as small arms, grenades and machine gun fire raked the area. Old Duc Khoi, standing in the middle of the road too petrified to move looked up at the heavens and was struck in the face by a round from a helicopter gun ship that was strafing the road. A car exploded with a resounding crash as an airborne rocket struck the gas tank.
People began emerging from the ditches, parked cars, from under the bus and the dry rice paddies. Many were wounded, dragging themselves up to the road and then collapsing. The bus driver moved among the casualties giving first aid, consoling, helping where he could. Dinh Chau helped his sister to her feet and guided her towards the bus. As they approached the bus Dinh Chau heard the bus driver tell a tall thin, middle aged man dressed in a short sleeved, variegated shirt.

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