I Love the Smell of Napalm in the Morning
submitted by: Alva Leon Matheson
Because of my fighter experience in the RAAF, I was selected to undergo the first OV-10 Bronco FAC course to be conducted in Vietnam. The Bronco was my kind of aircraft and handled like a little fighter. It was specifically designed for counterinsurgency operations and had just been evaluated in Vietnam for FAC use. I therefore became the first Australian to be trained in the aircraft. On arrival at Phan Rang I met my fellow RAAF members at No. 2 Squadron and stayed in their quarters for the duration of training. Thirteen days and 18 flying hours later I was deemed qualified.
On returning to Bien Hoa on 6 November I was assigned to the 2nd Brigade of the 25th US Infantry Division based at Cu Chi in the III Corps area. I joined the American FACs in the TACP, made myself comfortable in their hooch, and was soon certified combat ready.
My first airstrike was the very next day. It was a TIC situation where US infantry had made contact with the VC. I called in and controlled a couple of airstrikes. The ordnance, 750 pound bombs, napalm, and 20 mm cannon, was placed 200 meters in front of the friendlies. I can recall the Yank Ground Commander yelling into his radio, “I’m been lifted off the ground by the explosions. I’m covered in shit, but keep it coming,” which I did to his delight. The VC were battered and retreated.
Our AO was on the border with Cambodia. On a night mission it was possible to see the headlights of the NVA trucks on the other side of the border unloading their munitions and supplies. At that stage we could not do a thing about it, as we were not allowed to go over the border and bomb them. At night, we carried parachute flares, and it was possible to illuminate suspect areas and catch sampans and troops in the open. In that situation, artillery was used to pound the area.
After about five weeks at Cu Chi, the USAF realized that as I was an Australian, I should not be operating closer than 10 kilometers from the Cambodian border. As a result, on 12 December I was reassigned to the 3rd Brigade of the US First Infantry Division based at Lai Khe. The TACP at this time comprised four USAF FACs and myself, three OV-10s, and a handful of USAF airmen to look after the radios and aircraft. Our policy was to have a FAC airborne all day during daylight hours and on call at night. This ensured that a FAC was at the scene of an enemy contact within minutes.
On 29 December 1968 I was officially appointed CITP in the OV-10 aircraft and was rostered to fly the first mission of the day. We had a quiet night, no rockets or mortars, and after a quick breakfast I headed off to the strip in my Jeep – a vehicle which was not on the books and was comprised of parts from four wrecks. I was driving down the road next to the strip when the mortars started to rain in. As I looked ahead, I could see the rounds landing smack in the middle of the road and walking towards me. I screeched to a halt, leapt into ditch on the side of the road and waited until the mortars passed. Although the Jeep had been straddled, it remained intact.
I thought it would be a great idea to get the hell out of there, and I did – making a dash for my aircraft. I’d pulled up sharply at my aircraft and had gotten strapped in just as the mortars started landing around the tarmac. I had one engine turning with a very worried-looking USAF airman out in front of the aircraft, looking over his shoulder at the mortar rounds getting closer. I waved him off to the bunker and he bolted. By this time I was taxing fast and swerving – a harder target to hit, I hoped. I called the Control Tower, requesting take off clearance, only to have them come back with, “Negative, the runway is closed. We’re under attack.” “Tell me something I don’t know,” I thought and replied, “Bugger that, Sidewinder 32 is taking off.” I turned onto the runway and firewalled the throttles. I rocketed down the runway with mortars exploding to the side of me. I did a short, short takeoff, and 10,000 feet later I started to relax. Talk about starting work on the run.
The US Ranger Company that lived across the clearing from the FAC hooch at Lai Khe included some 18-year-olds that, by their own admission, were young thugs from Chicago and New York.
They said they were given a choice or signing up from Vietnam or going to prison, so they volunteered. Given their background, you cannot help but admire the guts and “gung ho” attitude of these young soldiers in battle. The Rangers’ role was to send out LRRPs and gather intelligence on the enemy, and whenever I was called upon to support these grunts, which was often, I gave them maximum effort every time.
Invariably, when the LRRPs needed help, you found that they were outgunned and outnumbered, but fighting like hell. In these hot situations you did what was required. I found that the last thing you thought about was your own safety, and the rulebook went out the window. The reward after these engagements was back at the hooch, after they had been successfully extracted, when you looked into their grinning faces. Sometimes they didn’t make it, and on one occasion a five-man patrol was wiped out before any help could get to them.
During a VR mission when I was checking out a LRRP position in the field, I received a whispered radio message that I was taking ground fire. “The cheeky bastards,” I thought, “shooting at me!” I continued on and then came around for another pass. I asked the Team Leader to call as soon as the ground fire commenced. “Sidewinder 23, you’re taking ground fire now,” he called. I rolled the aircraft over on its back and observed a clump of trees under the aircraft. I called a battery of 105s, passed them the coordinates, and gave the order to shoot.
“Negative,” came the reply, “There are friendlies in that position.”
I replied, “Negative, I have the friendlies in sight.”
“Sorry,” the voice answered back at me, “still can’t shoot at that position.”
I said something appropriate under my breath and barked, “Add 800 and shoot!”
“Roger that,” came the reply.
The first round was 800 metres long, so with two 400 metre corrections I got the guns on the target and then ordered battery fire. The LRRP Team Leader then advised me that the ground fire had ceased. The position was checked out by the Ready Reserve Company and a number of dead and wounded VC were found. It was clear that they were tracking the LRRPs and were in the last position reported by the LRRPs, which is why the artillery would not fire on my grid coordinates.
The VC broke the cardinal rule – don’t shoot at the FAC unless you are already in contact. They died for their mistake!
On 2 January 1969 we were joined by a new Australian FAC, Wing Commander Pete Larard. We knew each other well. My task to check him out and certify him as combat ready was achieved without difficulty and in a short time. As the senior officer he decided to rearrange one end of the hooch to form a more private bedroom/office area by placing steel lockers around his bed space. Soon after his arrival, he experienced his first rocket attack on the Base. On cue, we all rolled out of our beds and into the bunker – all except the new FAC. All we could hear from the hooch was yelling and a lot of metallic crashing. I rushed back into the hooch to find out where he was. I found him tangled up in his mosquito net and banging against the steel lockers, having rolled out of bed the wrong way. By the time we got him out, the attack was all over and we all collapsed around laughing.
On 16 February I was assigned to control an Arclight strike. These missions involved a cell of three B-52s bombing from an altitude of 30,000 to 35,000 feet, a height at which they were normally not visible from ground level. At the pro- grammed time I made radio contact with the Flight Leader, then, having visually insured there were no friendly troops in the assigned target area, I gave clearance for the strike to begin. I was flying just outside the square kilometre target area at low altitude when the bombs began to land. Each B-52 carried 120 high-explosive bombs, and the effect of 360 of these rounds impacting in a square kilometer area was awesome. After the airstrike was completed and the dust cleared I conducted a BDA. A great number of bunker systems had been destroyed or exposed, but it was impossible to estimate casualties. This strike was by far the most spectacular display of firepower that I saw in Vietnam.
On 2 March I was scrambled out of Lai Khe to support two LRRP Teams who were about to be attacked. When I arrived at Team One’s position they were already in contact. I ordered them to throw smoke, identified the color, and immediately rolled in over their heads firing rockets. The Team Leader radioed, “Sidewinder, you’re on target and they’re firing at you.” “Good,” I thought, “that will take some of pressure off the grunts on the ground.” I rolled in again and fired more rockets into the VC. The Team Leader then called that he had been hit. He was becoming hysterical, not that I can’t blame the poor bastard. I calmed him down and got the Team moving toward their emergency extraction LZ. By this time I was also controlling artillery on the VC and the slicks were on the way to lift the Team out. Then I heard the second LRRP Team whispering on the radio, calling my callsign.
Team Two was a few klicks away and, as Team One was out of immediate danger and about to be extracted, I headed towards the new location. The Team Leader whispered, “Sidewinder, the VC are getting closer to our position. We are about to make contact.” Team Two was in the jungle but not far from a small rice paddy. I instructed the Team Leader to head 180 degrees to the clearing for emergency extraction. I then asked him to throw smoke as soon as they made contact. The next time that Team Leader came back on the radio he was shouting and I could hear yelling and screaming and automatic weapons fire in the background. At that moment I spotted his smoke and called, “Tally ho your smoke,” before rolling into fire rockets at the VC. As he was still yelling on the radio when my rockets impacted, I heard the explosion over his radio, and his voice rose a couple of octaves. The Team then broke out of the jungle into the open, firing their weapons and throwing grenades. It’s odd what thoughts flash through the mind at such moments, but mine immediately went back to Saturday matinees I enjoyed as a kid when the cowboys came backing out of the saloon batwing doors, firing their six guns. This was definitely LRRP Team Two backing out of the jungle.
The light was beginning to fade because I could see the explosions, gun flashes, and tracers – especially the ones aimed at me. I continued to fire rockets into the VC to prevent their pursuit of the Team. By this time I had organized the slicks and gunships for the extraction, adjusted artillery on to the VC position, and call for a couple of airstrikes. Another FAC was scrambled to relieve me, as I had been airborne for nearly three hours. He worked the whole area over with bombs, napalm, and cannons. After the mission I felt physically and mentally drained. During those three hours I could not remember actually looking inside the cockpit to see if the aircraft was functioning all right, fortunately it had been. Both LRRP Teams were extracted safely back to Lai Khe without serious casualties.
As a consequence of this and other incidents, the FACs were invited to the Ranger Company barracks for a party. I was pleasantly surprised and honoured when I was made an honorary captain for services rendered and presented with a black beret with rank and badge. During the evening one of the LRRP Team leaders took me aside to give me a present. He was so grateful to be alive, and thought “Tallyho” over the radio sounded so cool, that he wanted to give me his prized possession, a bottle of pickled ears! I was stunned. Thinking quickly, I politely refused, saying that I would never get them home through Australian Customs! This soldier was killed a couple of weeks later on a larger Ranger patrol.
I was on a VR mission in our AO when I heard “Contact” over the command frequency. Recognizing the callsign and knowing the location, I was over the area in two minutes. A company of infantry had stumbled across a bunker system and had taken casualties. The Battalion CO was overhead in his C&C chopper, assisting the Company CO. I suggested that tactical air take-out the bunker complex but the Company CO didn’t want this immediately. He wanted to recover the bodies of the dead and wounded who were virtually in the enemy position.
The Company assaulted the complex again; suffering two more wounded, but failed to get to their downed comrades. Another assault was ordered, and this time they got the wounded out – at the cost of adding two more to the number – but the bodies of the KIA were still left on top of the bunkers. At this stage, light was fading and it was decided to stay put and secure the area for the night. The WIA were evacuated by Dustoff choppers before dark.
The Battalion CO decided to land nearby and spend the night with the Company on the ground. Before he landed he asked me to order tactical air for first light the next day. I think the plan was that they were going to recover the bodies that night. I arrived over their position at first- light and made contact. They had had a fairly quiet night but had failed to recover the bodies. Reluctantly, the decision was made to take out the bunker complex. I had two sets of fighters briefed and raring to go. I marked what I thought was the target and asked the Ground Commander to correct my mark. He called back, “50 metres north.” I mentally fixed that ground position and called in the aircraft, double-checking that their bomb fusing was set on “delay” and not “instant,” as we had some bunkers to dig up.
About every second or third bomb I placed another marking rocket on the target. The troops on the ground were taking cover in old B-52 bomb craters, so they were safe even though the ordnance was being dropped only about 100 metres from their positions. The complex was destroyed. The KIA bodies were never found, and the VC/ NVA had melted away during the night. Clearly, the tactical decision should have been airstrikes immediately the day before to cause as many enemy casualties as possible, but the moral decision was to attempt the recovery of the bodies, taking more WIA in the process.
Recreation for the Rangers back at the Base was interesting and unconventional. I remember one night, sitting in the FAC hooch, just relaxing with a few drinks, when we all noticed that we were crying and had sore eyes. We happened to be downwind from the Rangers at the time and when we looked over at the LRRP hooch we couldn’t see it. It was enveloped in a cloud of white smoke! They were letting off CS grenades, as one would throw streamers at a party. They soon ran out of grenades and we stopped crying.
Who was going over to the LRRPs to tell them to stop throwing grenades at each other? No one, that’s who!
About once a month I flew down to Vung Tau to get paid and have a night in the RAAF Officers’ Mess. I considered this R&R. It was before one of these trips that it was decided, I think at Pete Larard’s suggestion, that what we needed at Lai Khe was an “en suite,” complete with a flush toilet and a proper shower. After some barter and exchange of goods, the gear was loaded into the back of the OV-10 and flown back to Lai Khe. We got the local engineers to bulldoze a large hole and an old boiler was used as a septic tank. Between all of us we had sufficient talent to build the “en suite” with concrete floors and running water. It was a luxury to go to the toilet in private and not worry about getting shot in the bum!
The Michelin Rubber Plantation covered a large area on the northern border of our AO. The Plantation was used as a staging area by the NVA and it was not unusual to be shot at while flying past there. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to return fire at that time because the US Government had to pay the plantation owners so much for every tree damaged! Another stupid political restriction. The Brigade CO decided that if we couldn’t get to the NVA in the rubber we would do the next best thing and build a FSB at the southeastern corner of the plantation in the expectation that the NVA would not tolerate a FSB so close to their perimeter. It was estimated that we had three days to set and prepare for the inevitable ground attack.
Construction started immediately, with CH– 47 Chinooks lifting in the bulldozers and UH-1 Iroquois bringing in the infantry. The Chinooks returned the following day with a battery of six 105 mm Howitzers. The construction Team spotted NVA reconnaissance parties up in the trees in the distance gathering information on the new facility. On the third day the Base was completed and named FSB Oran, after one of the First Division’s battle sites in North Africa during WWII. The infantry and artillery were in position, waiting like bait on a hook for the NVA. I was awakened early in the morning of the fourth day, 18 March. The Brigade CO wanted me to join the fire support Team as the duty FAC on his C&C chopper. FSB Oran was about to come under attack.
We got airborne and tuned to the command frequency just in time to hear the FSB Commander broadcast, “All stations be advised, FSB Oran is under heavy ground attack from three sides, request assistance.” Artillery from supporting FSBs was already pounding the ground outside the perimeter when we arrived over the battle in the C&C ship. In very quick succession Moonshine (a C-47 flare ship) and Spooky (a C-47 gunship) arrived, followed by Cobra helicopter gunships. Our FAC was also on station and airstrikes were on the way. The battle was fierce with tracers arcing into the FSB and the 105’s returning fire at point-blank range. The latter were firing fleschette rounds, which were comprised of thousands of nails-size steel arrows that had a devastating effect on troops in the open. Large white golf balls – actually rounds fired from the enemy 12.7 mm guns were flashing past our C&C ship and other slow-movers around the FSB.
A Cobra gunship which had been hit called “MAYDAY” before crash landing onto a road to the east of the FSB. Another chopper went with him and rescued the crew from the dirt track. The Spooky gunship was hosing the perimeter of the FSB with his miniguns, with deadly effect on the attackers. At this time the FSB Commander radioed that he was running out of 105 ammunition and requested resupply.
Moonshine had turned the night into day around the FSB with his flare runs. Out of the darkness loomed a Chinook with a sling load of 105 ammunition, with explosions all around him and tracers flying every which way. The pilot went into a hover and dropped his load of ammo on top of the guns. The Chinook took hits but did not go down. The guns started firing at point- blank range again.
The Brigade CO ordered-in the insertion of two Ready Reserve Companies to the north of FSB to act as a blocking force. After consultation between the Brigade CO, me, and the air- borne FAC, the tactical air was used to lay down Snake-Eye bombs, napalm, and cannon on the southern perimeter so that the FSB was ringed with firepower. At this stage we flew to a nearby base and conducted an “engine on” refueling. We were back at the battle within 20 minutes. The exchange of fire was still fierce but many of the 12.7 mm anti-aircraft artillery positions had been silenced. An awesome sight was watching a Cobra gunship flying down the tracer path of 12.7 mm AAA, firing its own rockets and guns, and finally silencing the enemy emplacement.
The battle raged until just before dawn, when the NVA began their withdrawal. At this stage the Brigade CO ordered a return to Lai Khe. We were to refuel and land back at the FSB as soon as possible. We touched down in the middle of the FSB and were greeted by the Base Commander. He was in great spirits. The FSB was a mess and a strong smell of gunpowder and napalm hung in the morning mist that covered the area. While infantry casualties had been light, the Artillery Officer, Forward Observer, and a number of gunners had been killed and one 105 gun had been destroyed. This was a remarkable outcome considering the ferocity of the attack.
The FSB Commander had also narrowly escaped death – he showed us an unexploded mortar bomb sticking out of the top of his bunker. I told him to buy a lottery ticket and he offered me an AK-47 assault rifle, still covered in blood, as a souvenir. The NVA had suffered horrendous casualties, something like 150 to 200 killed and many more wounded. As usual, the wounded were taken away during the withdrawal, but many dead bodies had been left behind on the battlefield. After this action, the Michelin Rubber Plantation was a quieter and safer place to fly over.
The day after the battle at FSB Oran, I was on a VR mission checking out the area to the north. It was clear that the enemy was retreating to the northwest toward Cambodia. Freshly dug graves could be seen dotting the retreat path as some of the wounded died.
I was airborne out of Lai Khe on a VR mission when I heard a call for help on the command frequency. A US adviser with a company of CIDG troops, Montagnard tribesmen, formed into para- military units, were in contact with a battalion- size enemy force. I arrived at high speed over the grid reference to see from the explosions, smoke and dust that the contact was continuing. I called the Commander to throw smoke so I could identify him, and two blooms of different colors appeared about 150 meters apart. I confirmed with the Commander, which color, then rolled in and placed a brace of rockets onto the other smoke. The NVA were now aware I was on the scene! This was a common ploy used by the enemy to confuse and delay fire support, but this day it failed.
The US Adviser also advised that I was taking ground fire every time I made a pass. I ordered tactical air, gunships and artillery ASAP to provide fire support to the embattled Company. The artillery was always the most responsive in these situations. I brought the fire of two batteries of 105s to within 100 meters of the Company’s front, a battery of 155s at 200 meters and a battery of eight-inch at 300 to 400 meters. Because of the number of FSBs at our disposal in our AO it was almost always possible to select a parallel GT line. In this case I had perfectly parallel GT lines.
When the gunships arrived I ordered them to place their ordnance 50 meters to the friendlies’ front, flying parallel to the GT line. I marked the target with rockets and the gunships hosed the area to the friendlies’ front with rockets and mini- guns. The US Adviser advised that he had taken casualties, both KIA and WIA, and called for Dustoff choppers. They arrived as the tactical air arrived. I got the Dustoff choppers to approach from the south and land in a clearing where they proceeded to load the casualties. I briefed the fighters, giving them an attack heading which was parallel to the artillery GT lines I had been using. I then lifted the gunships and 105 batteries and shifted the 155 and eight-inch batteries 200 meters north, insuring that the Flight Leader knew he was flying parallel to and south of the artillery and then I was going to keep it firing during the airstrikes. The flight leader replied, “No sweat Sidewinder.” What a sight! I felt like I was conducting an orchestra; controlling and coordinating a wide variety of resources, on three different radio nets, all bringing continuous fire onto the enemy.
The fighters dropped high drag bombs, deployed napalm, and strafed with cannon. I continued to mark the enemy locations with rockets throughout the contact. My Yank mate on the ground called that I was still taking ground fire every time I made a pass. I remember thinking, “Good, that means I’m on target.” During the contact, I noticed the Brigade CO’s C&C chopper in my six o’clock position following me around. I didn’t have time to talk to him during the battle. After about 30 minutes I was able to call to see if he wanted to add anything to the proceedings. He replied, “Negative you seem to have everything under control, but I have scrambled the Ready Reserve Company to act as a blocking force to the west.” “Roger that,” I replied.
When the dust settled the US Adviser on the ground announced that he owed me a beer or three! This was one of the most satisfying missions I flew in Vietnam.
On one occasion, I was the duty FAC in the Brigade CO’s C&C chopper during his visit to troops at FSBs in the field. We were returning to Base when one of the scouts in a LOH, a small observation helicopter, radio’d that he had a bunch of VC pinned down under some trees. By the time we arrived he had been hit a couple of times by ground fire and was losing oil pressure. The Brigade CO ordered him to break off the attack and returned to Base. We then proceeded to circle the trees and pin down the enemy. The Brigade CO scrambled the Ready Reserve Company. I was firing my M-15 carbine, the Brigade CO his M-79 grenade launcher, and the Door Gunner his twin M-60 machine guns. I was into my second burst of automatic firing when the Brigade CO started yelling and screaming. I thought he had been hit, and he had. My hot spent cartridges were flying straight down his open shirtfront. We swapped weapons and I proceeded to lob grenades at the base of the trees. I got the hang of it after a couple of rounds. We were getting low on fuel when the slicks arrived and troops checked out the area. The dead VC
were left and the wounded VC were taken back to Base.
During a VR mission near Lai Khe I witnessed an unusual incident. I was flying over an infantry patrol, which was moving down a jungle track toward an intersection. The jungle was dense on all sides, and it was while I was checking out the other three tracks leading into the intersection that I noticed movement on one of them.
Immediately I told the Patrol Leader, who stopped and deployed his men while I took a closer look. When I called them back it was to tell him, “You’re not going to believe this but you have a monstrous tiger walking toward the intersection, about the same distance out as yourselves.” He replied, “Thanks a bunch, Sidewinder, that’s all we need.” I kept the tiger under observation when suddenly it stopped, having heard the patrol or catching its scent. The animal turned 90 degrees and departed into the jungle away from the patrol. When I told the Patrol Leader, he sounded relieved. I think he was more worried about the tiger than the VC!
On 7 April some friendly troops had been taking fire from the southeast corner of the Michelin Rubber Plantation. They called for tactical air, and I was the airborne FAC. I had already put an air- strike in another location and I was running low on rockets. I located the friendlies and put an air- strike on the NVA but some had managed to pull back into the rubber. At this stage I had run out of rockets. Another airstrike arrived so I briefed them to follow me and I would mark the target with smoke from the aircraft. (The Bronco had a smoke generator, which was used to assist in rendezvousing with the fighters.) I rolled in and flew at tree top-level between the rows of rubber trees, making smoke. The fighters followed me down and bombed and strafed on my smoke trail. The system worked well and I continued to mark the target in this manner until all the ordnance had been expended. Even in a high-tech war you had to improvise to get the job done.
On 18 April I flew to Bien Hoa to pick up a replacement aircraft and also a newly arrived Aussie FAC who was to be my replacement – Doug Riding. The next day I flew back to Lai Khe with Doug. That same day I took part in a mission northwest of Lai Khe where intelligence had reported an unusual amount of trail and electronic activity around a particular patch of jungle. It had been decided to mount an operation to investigate the area. Two columns of tanks, APCs, and infantry were to approach the area from opposite directions. I hoped they were not going to shoot each other. They had advanced about 100 meters when both columns came under RPG and automatic weapons attack. The tanks and APCs returned fire, and tactical air was ordered. I suggested to the Brigade CO that I mark 100 meters to the front of both lead tanks and he agreed. The fighters arrived with Snake-Eye bombs and cannons. I requested “fuse instant” – we wanted to clear away the jungle to see what we had. I ordered all friendlies to button up and take cover.
I commenced the airstrikes and the fighter jocks were spot on target. Their first bomb put my smoke out. After the first strike was completed and the dust cleared, I could clearly see the square concrete roof of bunkers or buildings – it was a very large complex. At this stage the Brigade CO radioed that he was low on gas and was returning to Base for fuel. Before his departure he said, “Sidewinder 32, handing over control until I return.” That meant that he had passed operational control of the sweep over to a RAAF FAC. That’s one of the attributes I admired when working with the Yanks – if you demonstrated ability and competence you got the job, no matter who you were.
I was now in charge of directing tanks, APCs, and infantry onto the target while in contact with the enemy. I warned the lead Tank Commanders what was in front of them and they cautiously moved forward. I was about to commence more airstrikes when a startled Tank Commander called me and awarded me a VC prisoner of war. A very battered and shell-shocked VC had crawled up onto the tank, tapped him on the shoulder, and surrendered! It was decided that more airstrikes were not necessary because enemy fire had ceased and the VC were surrendering. It was then discovered that we had exposed and damaged an enemy hospital.
Unfortunately for the enemy there were no red crosses on display and no one had any way of knowing that it was indeed a hospital. The APCs took hours to load up all the medical supplies from there and transport them back to Base.
The night before I was to leave Lai Khe for my return to Australia I was awakened to see if I would fly one more mission. A FAC was required for a joint US Army/ARVN night operation involving a battalion insertion around a village along the highway. Normally one would not fly the last day – something about tempting fate! But at that stage I was the only FAC who had not been drinking. We got airborne and took up a position overhead. Moonshine flareships lit up the sky like daylight, gunships were on station and we also had tactical air in case we needed support in a hurry. The insertion was going well without contact when there was a tremendous explosion near the end of the village. We thought it was on! Unfortunately a Cobra gunship and an UH-1 slick loaded with ARVN troops had collided in midair and both aircraft crashed without any survivors. The rest of the evening passed without incident and we returned, in a very subdued mood to Base, after a three-hour mission.
The following day, 23 April, I left Lai Khe and spent the next day at Bien Hoa clearing out of the 19th TASS. I then flew to Vung Tau on 25 April to sign off the Australian Forces books. A Wallaby airliner (Caribou) flew me to Saigon on 29 April and I stepped on the freedom bird for Sydney on 30 April. During my tour in Vietnam I had flown 276 combat missions for 604 hours, averaging about 100 hours per month.
I have vivid memories regarding my immediate return to Australia. Firstly, I quickly realized I was physically and mentally exhausted and, secondly, people around me seemed to be worrying about insignificant problems. I had just come from an environment where the only problem one had was in relation to living or dying – no other problems existed. It was very difficult to make the transition from a war theatre to a peace- time environment in Australia in one day. I like to think I conducted my task in Vietnam professionally and I am satisfied that I did a good job. I have no hang-ups about participating in that War, given the circumstances of that time.
Many people have asked me how I survived Vietnam. I put my survival down to three factors. Firstly, I was a professional soldier and my experience, training, and preparation for Vietnam was of the highest standard. Secondly, I remembered the words of my first rugby coach who drilled into us, when we were young kids, “if you want to win and not get hurt, you have to go in low, hard and fast.” I found those words applicable many times in Vietnam. Thirdly, I suppose that luck does play a part.