The Rescue of Hammer 51
submitted by: Alva Leon Matheson
Around mid-morning I was enroute to the Valley to relieve another FAC, Speedy 11, from DaNang. I was listening to him work a pair of F-4s from Cam Ranh Bay, Hammer 51 and 52, when I heard a call from the leader as he pulled off a bomb run. “We’ve got a (an engine) fire light!” The call was quickly followed by a more urgent, “We’ve got two fire lights! We’ve got two fire lights! We’re bailing out. Mayday! Mayday! Hammer 51!”
Any chance that this was going to be a routine day was over!
By the time I got over the scene, I could see smoke rising from the jungle marking where the jet had impacted. There was nothing left of the aircraft, and if it had not been for the smoke I would never have found it.
The two survivors were on the ground (or, rather, in the trees) about 100 meters apart and maybe five kilometers north of the crash site. More precisely, they were in the hills on the east side of the A Shau Valley just east of the abandoned A Luoi airfield. That area was always considered hostile territory, and in fact, we had been tracking increasing enemy activity there in the previous few weeks.
Speedy 11 was orbiting over the survivors to make radio contact and assure them that help was on the way. As he approached bingo fuel, he briefed me on the situation and headed for home.
I established radio contact with the two survivors, Hammer 51A,the front seater, and Hammer 51B, the GIB. I also made lots of low passes over the area to let them know that help was close by, but I also took care not to pass too close and tip off the enemy to their location.
After about 30 minutes Sandy 01, the SAR Task Force Commander, contacted me. I talked them into my location and pointed out the survivors. Their chutes were very visible against the forest canopy.
He acknowledged the briefing and assumed on-scene command. I exited “stage west.” I remained on frequency to monitor the situation as I orbited over the A Luoi airfield, about three kilometers west. From that position, I could watch the show and render assistance if it became necessary, but would not get in the way of the SAR operation.
What I witnessed was a very professional performance. Those Sandys were good! The leader worked his wingman in with several other sets of fighters to “sanitize” the pickup area before bringing in the Jolly Green chopper. He marked his targets carefully with WP rockets so that the ordnance would be delivered as close as possible but not too close to the survivors.
Even at that, the first bomb that went off up the hill brought a high-pitched radio call from one of the guys on the ground. He wasn’t expecting it, and I couldn’t blame him! When the fighters started delivering CBUs, I knew that the final act was about to begin. CBU was a hand grenade- sized antipersonnel submunition used to suppress anti-aircraft artillery. The weapon spread shrapnel over a large area and was highly effective at keeping enemy gunners’ heads down. Care had to be taken that the survivors were hugging the ground when CBUs were used, but they were so glad to see the drama unfolding at that point that they willingly complied.
Before the smoke could clear away, an HH-3 helicopter was moving in for the first pickup. At the direction of Sandy 01, the survivor popped a smoke flare.
I was amazed at how long the choppers had to maintain at the hover during the pickup. The jungle penetrator had to be slowly lowered, and the survivor had to locate the penetrator, open the seat, and strap himself onto it. A PJ sometimes rode the penetrator down if the survivor needed assistance. The hoist cable had to be rewound deliberately to avoid twisting and other stresses on the steel cable. If it seemed like a long time to me, an observer; it must have seemed like an eternity to the guys in the choppers who were hanging it all out, motionless, just above the trees. Although I was familiar with the procedure from training, watching it was another matter. They certainly earned my respect that day!
At last two very happy survivors were safely on board, and the helicopters pulled off and headed back to DaNang. The Sandys and the supporting fighter cover had some ordnance left over, and I directed four sets of fighters into the area where the deadly gunfire had originated before I headed home. It was a long mission, 3.5 hours, but it ended well, and I felt good.
The next morning at first light I was back over the A Shau Valley. The two parachutes that had been snagged high in the treetops were gone. Charlie had gotten himself a souvenir. Better two slightly used parachutes than two American pilots.
OK now, we “fast forward” 20 years to the spring of 1989 in Newport, Rhode Island.
I was assigned to the FORSCOM joint staff at Fort McPherson in Atlanta and was attending an interagency drug interdiction conference at the NWC. At lunch I was sitting with another AF colonel, Dick Rybak, from the LANTCOM Staff. We were talking about our experience in the war.
Dick said that he had flown F-4s out of Cam Ranh Bay. I remarked that I had been a FAC and worked with a lot of F-4s from the 12th TFW in the A Shau Valley. He gave me a strange look and very quietly said, “I was shot down over the A Shau Valley.” After comparing notes, it became apparent that I had been one of the FACs covering the shoot down. I told him that I had been there and had some pictures of the rescue.
After I got home, I dug through my old footlocker and came up with the slides and my logbook. There for 24 January 1969, was the entry: “SAR for Hammer 51A & B in A Shau; both rescued. Four airstrikes on A/W position (destroyed).”
Inowhadanameandafacetoputagainsta log entry.
Dick told me that the front seater was then- Lieutenant Colonel Bob Russ. In 1983 and 1984, Lieutenant General Russ had been my boss in the Pentagon, but we had never come to a conversation that would have uncovered our previous relationship.
At the time of my meeting with Dick Rybak, General Russ was the COMTAC at Langley AFB, Virginia. I was working for General Colin Powell as his DCS at FORSCOM. By coincidence, General Powell was preparing to attend a conference with General Russ on joint air rescue doctrine. I told General Powell about the rescue of Hammer 51 and showed him the slides I had taken. He took them with him to the conference. At an appropriate point he had the slides projected on the screen and told the story of how a future four-star general had been plucked from the jaws of fate.
General Powell told me later that General Russ got very quiet when he saw the pictures and relived what must have been a significant emotional event in his life.