The Time: Nov 1970
The Place: The Mekong Delta, RVN
The Event: A Combat "Track Meet"

    The "Huey's" had just completed the troop Insertion and were leaving the LZ to refuel and rearm. With no landing to cover , we decided to form a "pink team" and look for targets of opportunity.
''We" are a flight of two OH-6A Light Observation Helicopters called "Loaches" and two AH-1G gunships called "Cobra's"
    Since I was flying trail, the last ship in a right echelon formation, my job was to watch the other aircraft and monitor communications. So I tuned In Radio Saigon and was busy listening to some rock and roll when Cobra Lead dives hard left and starts yelling about some guy running around down below. As I pull out of the dive and let my stomach return to its normal place, I notice this one lone individual running a zig-zag pattern across an open field and he's really moving.
    Now a Cobra is an awe inspiring sight with guns, cannon and rockets bristling from everywhere. So to be an all alone enemy troop in the middle of an open field with not one, but two of these maneaters closing in on you at 200 mph, must be highly motivating
    The first Cobra opens up with his mini-gun which sprays bullets at 4000 rounds per minute. A cloud of dust kicks up all around the guy but not a single shot touches him and he's still running. The second gunship lets go a volley of rockets and flame, dirt and smoke envelope the speeding figure. "He's had it now", I say to myself and then sit slack jawed and incredulous as I watch him pop out of the smoke, running even faster than before. The lead Loach dives in dropping hand grenades like a mini-bomber yet the lone speedster goes on unscathed. It's my turn now and I've got him all lined up. I slowly squeeze the trigger for my mini-gun just as he steps into my sights and the damn gun jams. We are all wild with frustration as he ducks into a small thatch hut on the edge of the field.
    The Cobras line up and dive in to blow the hooch to hell when out pops the moving marvel who is now wearing a white shirt. Now this sophisticated disguise
may have fooled many others, but not us. I mean, let's face it, we're all high school graduates. The Cobras blow up the hooch and he's off and running!
    He's now heading back down the field he had just run up. Again the gunships attack and the field literally explodes in a fury of munitions and again, miraculously, this Viet Cong voodoo goes untouched. He leaps over a row of hedge and dives into a small, deep stream covered with vegetation. Now the Cobras must climb back up into their element and let we Loachs do what we do best.
    We slowly scout every inch of the stream bank for our hidden prey. I'm reflecting on his impossible escape from our firepower and am amazed at his skill, speed and good fortune. As I follow the lead Loach, I begin to sense the feeling of being watched. I stop dead and snap right just In time to see the top of his head disappear under the water. I say nothing to the others and hold my position. My heartbeats tick off the seconds. He raises his head, gasping for air and his eyes suddenly go wide with terror. I'm not ten feet away, he has no place to run and certain death is staring him in the face.
    His eyes mirror the disbelief and confusion he feels as I turn my aircraft left, away from him. As I turn my head to face him, I touch my right hand to my helmet visor in brief salute, smile and fly on. Tomorrow we may meet again and death may not be cheated, but for today he has earned the comfort of another sunset. As for me; it will remain my secret as later, when we gather to tell of our daily exploits, I'll listen to the other pilots tell the story of "the one that got away".

Ed Gallagher

( The author is a former Army helicopter pilot with
over 200 combat missions over Viet-Nam and Cambodia)


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