Tumbling Napalm Cans
submitted by: Alva Leon Matheson
By the time I reached the contact site a flight of three VNAF A-1 Skyraiders were checking in on the UHF radio frequency. I gave the fighters a rendezvous point using range and bearing from the Tan Son Nhut TACAN. We called the rendezvous point the “Wagon Wheel” because it was a distinctive feature on the ground formed by six intersecting canals that resembled the spokes of a wheel. The leader then asked for a grid reference, and soon after I passed it to him, three big Skyraiders arrived on the scene with all 14 stations loaded. The Vietnamese pilots knew their country backwards, and they were all very good at ground attack work.
First I had to work out which of their weapons could be used. As it turned out I could only use their cannons and napalm, as there was not enough distance between the friendly forces and the enemy target to use their 500 and 1,000 pound bombs. I briefed the fighters and eventually got them into an acceptable pattern, which was not an easy task because only the Flight Leader could understand English, and he had to repeat my instructions to his wingmen in Vietnamese. Even the Flight Leader’s standard of English was poor; it seemed he had learned phrases appropriate to the ground attack business but not much else. I wasn’t complaining because I couldn’t speak one word of his language.
The friendly forces were pinned down along- side a canal and unable to move in any direction. The distance between the friendlies and the enemy was about 40 metres. With the fighters now evenly spaced in their pattern at about 2,000 feet, and with me underneath at 1,500 feet and slightly displaced from the target area, I marked the target with a smoke rocket. At the same time I called the friendlies on the ground to mark their position with coloured smoke grenades. They did.
As I wanted to find out how good these A-1 pilots were before I committed them to dropping their napalm canisters in close proximity to the friendlies, I asked them to do some strafing passes first. This was not normally done with fighters fully loaded with weapons and fuel, but it was sometimes necessary, and I didn’t think it would worry the A-1s too much. I controlled the A-1s for four strafing runs each, changing the aim point slightly on each pass until they were on target. All three pilots were very accurate and my confidence in them grew; in fact, I was confident enough to have them strafing between the enemy and the friendlies in case more enemy were hiding there – that is, less than 40 metres from the friendlies. The strafing was reported as effective from the ground so I ordered repeated passes until all three aircraft had fired out.
During these passes I was in an orbit which enabled me to pick up the fighters visually as they rolled in for the attack, and continue to observe them in the dive. If they were off line at all I could tell them to go through “dry.” If the attack looked safe and accurate then I would clear them in “hot.” For low angle deliveries such as for strafing, high-drag bombing, or napalm passes, being in a position over the target with the fighters passing underneath from the opposite direction was best. The FAC could assess the line of the fighter and the results of each attack. Also, the fighter pilot knew where the FAC was holding.
With the fighters now out of 20 mm ammunition it was time to change to napalm attacks. They had four cans each. I was anticipating another good performance. However, as the friendly forces were only 40 metres from the target, I asked for the first pilot to aim to hit to the left of the last smoke I fired so that I could get a feel for his command of his machine in the new set-up. This aim point was about 50 metres from the friendlies. As the target was actually too close to the friendlies for a “legal” napalm attack, I had to get approval from the ground commander. This was normally done by the ground commander passing the FAC his initials. The less hesitation in replying, the more serious the situation on the ground. He wasted no time.
Napalm attacks were made in a fashion similar to strafing attacks. That is, the fighter started the attack from about 2,500 feet in a ten to fifteen degree dive. Very low, and just short of the target he released the napalm tanks and they continue on to break up and detonate on impact with the ground. The ignited jellied fuel spread along the ground. In a cleared area the napalm would spread for about 150 metres; but in jungle it could end up just burning in a 20 metre hole.
After watching the No. 3 fighter recover from his last strafing pass I pulled the groaning Bird Dog around the orbit to pick up the No.1 fighter starting his first napalm run. Rolling out on the reciprocal heading to the attack direction, I searched for the No.1 aircraft. I had No.3 rolling out on downwind behind me, and No. 2 in front and about to turn Base, so No.1 had to be somewhere near the roll-in point. I started to turn left again, to head back over the target and at the same time search up towards the roll-in point, which was supposed to be only a little higher than myself. Anyway, I still could not find No. 1, and just as I was about to ask him where he was I saw two napalm cans go tumbling past me towards the target area. My heart almost stopped. I had never before seen napalm cans dropped from a 30 degree dive and released above 1,500 feet. They could land anywhere! My first “Short Round”. My last “Short Round” too!
I looked down and saw the cans tumbling towards the earth. They tumbled and tumbled, and tumbled again, glinting in the sunlight with each rotation. I hoped they would land short on the near side of the canal but they just kept on tumbling towards the target area where the friendlies and the enemy waited. I thought this would be the end of my career because a FAC who is responsible for getting friendlies killed or wounded (known as a “short round”) is in real trouble. From above, it was impossible to tell how high the cans were above the ground but it was easy to see how far they had to travel horizontally. I just wished they would hit the ground early and short but they just kept on tumbling towards the friendlies. I was fully aware how difficult it was to hit a target with any unguided and unpropelled ordnance even when it was fitted with fins, and being released from an altitude above 1,500 feet at A-1 speeds would only make the errors worse. The attack had to have a catastrophic ending.
I wondered if the friendly troops could see the cans coming. They tumbled over the canal so I guessed impact was imminent. Over the green jungle canopy they tumbled, still close together, which surprised me. It gave me some hope as I thought that if two cans could travel over such a large distance and still be in the same piece of sky together then maybe their trajectory was predictable and the pilot was using more than just the “eyeball” release technique. Boom! A ball of orange-red fire erupted in the jungle about 50 metres from the friendlies, exactly where I had asked for it. It did not spread too far but I didn’t care; I was so relieved the cans had missed the friendlies. I told the remaining fighters to go through “dry,” and to remain “high and dry.” I needed time to catch my breath.
The fighters did not drop any more napalm that day. I sent them home after thanking them for an impressive display of accuracy. The friendlies were able to disengage during the airstrike and I was able to head back to Dong Tam for a cold beer. It is now 39 years later (2008), and if I close my eyes, I can still clearly see, as if in slow motion, those napalm cans slowly tumbling, and tumbling, and tumbling towards the jungle.
I still don’t know how he did it.