The Bridge At Ban Bak

“Good hits! Good hits, Sandy 7!” Sandy 15, Mike’s wingman, sounded exuberant on the radio. “Hit ‘em again Sandy 15.” “It looks like you destroyed it, Mike.” Mike spoke slowly and distinctly to insure that his wingman knew that this was not a request. “Hit them again!” Mike was taking no chances. The 23 mm gum could rip the helicopter to shreds with just one or two hits. He wanted to insure beyond any doubt that the gun was out of operation. “You’re the boss. Sandy 15 is in hot with guns.” Mike circled back around to scan the area for any more threats to their operation and he radioed to Tom as he flew. “Cyclone three-two, Cyclone three-two this is Sandy seven, how do you read.” Tom had been watching in awe as the battle unfolded around him. Frank Robertson (Nail 58) had already attacked and destroyed one gun emplacement on the far side of the river using F-105’s. Then he had marked another and was attacking it with a flight of four F-100’s. These Huns were dropping Mk. 84 2000 lbs bombs and the blasts from their explosions were incredible. It seemed to Tom as if a small nuclear weapon had gone off each time one of the bombs exploded. There was even a small mushroom-shaped cloud that accompanied each blast to add to the effect. The sheer volume noise was unbelievably intense. From where Tom lay it appeared as if Frank was doing a fairly good job of keeping the guns quiet. There were a few shots fired at the airplanes, but for the most part their fire was wild and inaccurate. Tom was so attentive to the sights and sounds around him that he nearly missed the first radio call from Sandy seven. The faint voice in the earphone brought him back to his senses. “Sandy seven, this is Cyclone three-two. I have you loud and clear, go ahead.” “Roger, Cyclone, the helo is two minutes out, stand by for contact with Jolly one-zero.” Mike made it a point to fly directly overhead Tom’s position at just fifty feet above the ground. Mike couldn’t see Tom as he lay in the bushes but he thought he knew where he was. Just as he came over Tom’s position, he radioed again. “Cyclone three-two do you have me in sight.” “Affirmative,” Tom was elated. He practically yelled into the radio to be heard over the roar of the A-1’s engine. “If you were any closer I could have shaken your hand.” Mike smiled to himself. “Okay, sit tight. Get your marker flares out and be ready to pop them. It won’t be long now.” “Jolly one-zero this is Sandy seven.” “Go ahead seven.” “I’ve confirmed the survivor’s location. It’s right where we were briefed. Come in and get this guy.” “I’m pedaling as fast as I can,” Dan radioed back. Jolly ten had to climb slightly to clear the ridgeline and as they did so Dan and Harry got their first look at the river valley. The once-peaceful valley was alive with activity again. On the far side of the river two separate fires were already burning and airplanes were diving down attacking another. There were jets of various types swirling around in the air over the far side of the river; diving, turning, and climbing. It looked like organized chaos to the two helicopter pilots. On the near side of the river there was a large column of smoke rising from the jungle just a mile and a half in front of them. They could see Sandy 7 and Sandy 15 as they fired rockets at something else in the dense jungle beneath them; two or three miles ahead of the racing helicopter. It was like the scene from a movie but it was far more intense than any movie could have imagined. Harry Lindermann just looked over at Dan from the left seat but said nothing. Dan looked slightly to his right and saw a small ledge on the side of a hill about two miles away. It was just as Nail 58 had described it to them. “I think that’s the spot,” Dan said as he pointed toward it. ”Yeah, it could be,” Harry agreed. He wasn’t really convinced because it all looked the same to him. Cyclone three-two this is Jolly one zero we’re less than two minutes out from your position. Pop your smoke! I say again; POP YOUR SMOKE!” Tom was overjoyed; he could see the big helicopter as it sped towards him. He put his finger in the pull-tab of the marker flare and prepared to open it. He paused for just a moment. He knew that once he pulled the top off of the flare everyone, friend and foe alike, for miles around would know exactly where he was. He took a deep breath and pulled the tab. Instantly a cloud of orange-colored smoke began to rise out of the small canister. Tom held the canister away from himself and waved it back and forth so that the cloud would grow even larger. Dan strained hard to see the marker smoke but it was Dave at the boarding door of the copter who saw it first. “I’ve got orange smoke on the hillside, one to two o’clock for two and a half miles,” Dave announced over the intercom. from his position on the tail ramp. “Break left, break left, Captain Hudson, we’re taking fire from our five o’clock Dan had been looking at the wrong hillside. He looked a little more to his right and he saw the orange smoke. “I’ve got it,” Dan replied and he nudged the helicopter to the right and flew straight for the smoke. All at once Chris Dvorak was on the intercom.”