My Stories – “And this is no shit”
By Thomas Nutting
My Tour in Vietnam – Sept 1968 to
Sept 1969
Everyone
knows that with age one
tends to forget names, dates, places, etc. Well, I’m no
exception, however,
after viewing the D Troop, 3/5 Cav web site several humorous
events came to
mind that I would like to share. Like I say, maybe all the
names aren’t right
but at least the events are true to the best of my failing
memory. After all
these years, one never seems to forget the humorous side of
war and tries to
hide the sad, frightful events.
Bear Cat Events
I
began my tour at Bear Cat where
I became a member of D Troop since I was Cobra-rated. I was in
Bear Cat about
4-5 weeks after which we moved to the brand new 9th
Infantry Division
base camp of Dong Tam (see below). Following are events that I
remember that
happened at Bear Cat.
·
Generator
Papa San – A huge (don’t know how much power it put out but it
sure made a hell
of a lot of noise), diesel-driven generator was located near
the officers
quarters to provide electrical power to our Troop area. An
elderly Papa San’s
sole purpose in life was to make sure that the generator never
ran out of fuel,
oil, and coolant water. Now, this Papa San lived next to the
generator, and as
I observed, was very conscientious in making sure of doing his
duty until one
time just before we moved. I assume that CWO Cox was
responsible for the
generator because just after sundown when everyone needed
lights things
suddenly got very, very quiet and very dark. I went outside my
room to check
what was going on and the only thing that I heard was Cox,
pissed off to the
max, running around shouting that he was going to shoot that
Papa San. When we
finally caught up to Cox, he explained that apparently Papa
San fell asleep and
the diesel engine lost all of its coolant water resulting in
it seizing. We
never saw Papa San again. So much for electrical power at Bear
Cat.
·
XO’s
Personal Bunker – Our XO at the time, newly promoted Maj Whitworth,
had his own
personal bunker built just outside the entrance of his
ground-floor room. This
bunker comprised a seven-foot trench covered by a steel
half-pipe conduit which
was then covered with sand bags. The trench was so arranged
that should Bear
Cat come under attack, all the good Major had to do was run
out his room and
dive head-first into his bunker. Well, a few of the pilots
(don’t remember who
all was there) had gathered in one room on the first floor and
began telling
war stories and drinking beer as usual. I being the FNG sat
sipping my beer
listening to the stories and enjoying myself. Well, it was
September/October
and wet season, which means everything, was WET, to include
the XO’s bunker;
the trench was full of muddy water. Somebody came up with the
bright idea that
he could simulate incoming rockets by using a hand-launched
flare that he just
so happened to have in his room. We all then gathered on the
walkway around the
first-floor just above the XO’s room. The next thing that
individual shoots off
this flare and with a loud whoosh, bang someone shouts
“INCOMING”. It didn’t
take long we heard loud steps from below running to the door,
the door flew
open and out dives the XO into his bunker followed by a big
splash! With that,
everyone on the walkway was roaring with laughter. However, as
soon as the XO
appeared, drenched from head to foot, they all took off,
everyone that is,
except me. I was enjoying watching the flare slowly float down
to earth when I
heard the XO shouting. After coming to my senses I too slowly
returned back to
the party. We never heard anything more about that event.
·
The
Ice Cream Plant Incident
– A particular event was told to me that occurred during
the move to Dong Tam. Maintenance had an APU on wheels that
missed being
transported by truck to Dong Tam. One brave Long Knife pilot
decided he could
try flying the APU out as a sling load. So the APU was towed
out and centered
on our “runway” facing west. At this point I must explain that
a small
building, a cool house, named “Ice Cream Plant” was situated
at the west end of
our runway. Typical of these building it was of wood
construction having a
corrugated-steel roof. The UH-1 hovered over the APU and
ground members then attached
the slings from the APU to the UH-1 hook. Since it was a
rather hot day and the
DA was high it was decided that a member of the ground crew
would steer the APU
along the ground as the UH-1gained speed. So here was this
poor soul running
along behind the APU trying to keep it in a straight line
aligned with the
runway center. Everything was working out just fine until they
were about to
run out of runway. As luck would have it though, translational
lift was
reached, the Huey started to climb and everything would have
been fine if it
weren’t for the Ice Cream Plant. The APU didn’t clear the
Plant, as a matter of
fact, it either put a big dent in the roof or took it off
completely, I can’t
remember which.
·
Another
Incident during the Move
– This brings to mind another incident that occurred
during the move to Dong Tam. A Long Knife pilot landed in Dong
Tam after
carefully dropping a sling load comprised of his personal
belongings to include
his newly purchased stereo set. Turns out after he retrieved
his belongings he
discovered a bullet hole in one of his loud speakers.
Apparently, “One-shot
Charlie” struck again. Needless to say, that Long Knife pilot
was pissed.
·
“NVA
under Rice”, My Viewpoint - Now
this is a firsthand experience from an (at the
time) FNG (according to my DFC citation it was 5 Oct, 1968). I
was flying front
seat with CWO Christensen as AC. We were part of a
hunter/killer team searching
an area for most of the morning, when as the article says all
Hell broke loose.
Unfortunately, the turret in the Cobra we were flying was
inoperative; nothing
worked, no minigun, no 40mm, nothing. All I could do was watch
as everyone else
had “fun” at the turkey-shoot. Well, we were on station and
after making
several rocket runs things quieted down a lot.
We were left alone since we had the most fuel (but only
two pairs of
rockets left) as all the others went to rearm/refuel.
Christensen climbed up to
altitude so that we could keep an eye on the entire area. It
didn’t take long
before we observed a uniformed-man get up out of a rice paddy
and begin running
along a dyke. Christensen immediately rolled in and fired off
the last rockets
we had, knocking the guy off the dyke back into the rice
paddy. During the
breakoff pass from the rocket run I noticed that the guy was
starting to swim
away. Christensen said we can’t do anything since he just
fired our last
rockets. With that I jokingly said, “What do you mean, I’ve
got a .38 here to
use.” With that Christensen rolled in and brought the Cobra to
a hover to the
right of the guy. I opened by canopy and started firing my
.38. Now, I must
explain something about personal weapons among U.S. Army
aircrew members. When
I came into the Troop, I was offered either a .45 pistol (U.S.
Army standard)
or a .38 revolver (U.S. Navy WWII surplus). Remembering back
to my experience
with the .45 with which I had trouble hitting a silhouette at
25 meters, I
chose the .38 which was lighter but could only hold 6 rounds
in its drum. So
back to the action; reaching out the open left canopy, using
my right hand
holding the .38, I couldn’t take aim on this guy. After
rearming the drum three
times (that’s 18 rounds, that I think only every other round
fired, WWII
surplus?) and hitting the guy in the chest a couple of times,
I finally hit him
in his forehead, between the eyes. Christensen then climbed
back up to altitude
and as we started to circle around, another team came on
station. Well,
Christensen just couldn’t stop bragging about how his front
seat just shot a
guy between the eyes and with that we went off to
rearm/refuel. Later, checking
the aircraft for damage, we found that we took two hits in one
of the rocket
pods; who was shooting at us? Now, this aircraft “belonged” to
CWO Aaronson who
was really pissed off because, 1) we took two hits in a rocket
pod which meant
two tubes could not be loaded and 2) he wasn’t there when the
action took
place. And I was pissed because his turret wouldn’t work.
I
think it was
when we were on our way back again to the area that we heard
(I believe it was
LT Truelove) a Crusader had to fly to Dong Tam hospital
because his front seat
shot himself in the left hand. It was later explained that he
(a captain, new
in the unit) took out his .45 in his right hand and with his
right index finger
on the trigger (fool) cocked it by pressing the weapon between
the fingers of
his left hand. In doing so the pistol went off severing the
skin between two
fingers; blood everywhere and a hole in the gunner’s door,
this was observed by
me personally. The captain was evacuated off to Japan and
never seen again.
That night back in the barracks I fell asleep dead tired after
a long eventful
day. It seems that I just got my eyes shut when the then
Crusader Platoon
leader Capt Eisemann (Ike) woke me up asking me if I shot a
guy with my .38. I
replied that I did and he left my room shaking his head. After
my complaints
about the inoperative turret filtered up higher I then got the
additional duty
of being Armament Officer, at first under CWO Burchfield and
then when he DEROS’d
took over.
Dong Tam Events
Oh,
what a lovely place they made
for us. As a matter of fact it was still under construction
when we arrived.
The entire base camp was built on silt dredged from the Mekong
River. Sand
everywhere and in everything. However, to keep the sand down
our brilliant Army
engineers decided to cover the flight line with tar. This was
wonderful until
you had a scramble mission and had to run out to the farthest
row of revetments
where the Cobras were first parked. By the time I got out to
my assigned HCP my
feet were so heavy from all the tar I collected that I could
hardly move, yuck!
My boots kept slipping off of the steps used to climb into the
front seat. To
solve that problem, the Cobras where moved from the outer most
L-revetments to
the inner row of parallel-revetments (so we fat pilots don’t
have to run so
far) and PSP (Punctured Steel Planking?) was laid to cover the
tarred areas at
least between the revetment rows. Now to the humorous issues:
·
Callsign
“Super Nuts” – When
I was on leave before going to Vietnam, my next
oldest brother Bob, a “hippie” artist at the time, wanted to
paint a cobra on
my flight helmet. Well, without thinking I agreed and when I
picked it up a few
days later I discovered he had painted a psychedelic cobra
using purple and
green and then painted our “family” nickname “Nuts” along side
of the snake.
Well, I found it quite interesting and completely different
from other helmet
designs I’ve seen up till then and even now. When I got in
country people
starting asking me about the helmet and of course the name
too. After I became
AC and started making my name known around 9th Div,
I began using a
new callsign “super nuts” and my wing man, Chuck Nole, used
the callsign
“Squirrel” since he was always chasing after Nuts.
·
“Piss around the Clubhouse” – I spent the
afternoon and early
evening in our O-Club bunker on one of the few days that I had
off. This bunker
was built adjacent to the officer quarters so that we officers
only had to
cross a walkway between the two buildings to enter the bunker.
This walkway led
from the Troop headquarters building to one of the enlisted
quarters building. After
consuming several beers I made some silly remark that I bet
since I drank so
much beer that I could piss around the bunker. Before I knew
what I had said
bets from my dear colleagues were laid down. If my memory
serves me correct
then it was my wingman, CWO Chuck Noel that was to escort me
on my journey and
act as witness. As it turns out this was going to be a bet
that I didn’t win
nor lose. I exited the bunker on the walkway side, noticed
that the sun had
gone down, so after getting dark-adapted, turned left to go
counter-clockwise
around the bunker and proceeded to urinate and walk at the
same time. I rounded
the first corner, no problem. I rounded the second corner for
the long back
leg, no problem. I rounded the third corner, had plenty of
beer still in my
bladder and was about to round the fourth and final corner for
the home stretch
when out to my right I heard voices and saw first-sergeant
Sparks accompanied
by our then XO Cpt Rolla Breed. As we two met the other two
short of the walkway
we saluted as was the custom, however, since my right hand was
busy at the time
I saluted with my left hoping that the darkness would cover my
jester. Well, it
didn’t. “Is that any way to salute a superior”, asked CPT
Breed. But before I
could answer he must have heard and then saw what I was doing.
That’s when all
hell broke loose. My good wingman could only laugh so I
couldn’t keep a
straight face. “Put that thing away and get out of my sight”,
were the last
words I heard from the XO. We returned to the bunker laughing
the rest of the
night. To make a long story short we had to report to the XO
the next morning.
He of course wanted to know the details of what we were up to
and then so much
stated that if he was alone there would have been no problem
but since TOP was
with him he had to chew us out and that was the end of it!
·
The
shortest “Mayday” call
– This day we were assigned to cover the Mobile
Riverine Force during an operation east of Ben Tre. The Mobile
Riverine Force
was well-armed with gun boats leading a line of infantry
carrying craft sailing
along the winding waterways of the Mekong delta. I was
covering the lead War
Wagon, piloted by Dave Newkirk, circling above in a Cobra at a
safe altitude.
Newkirk was scouting ahead of the lead gun boat when suddenly
all hell broke
loose. I only heard one word transmitted from Newkirk; “SHIT”.
I then asked,
“What happened?” As an answer he said, “My instrument panel
just exploded.” I
then asked if he could make it to the nearby Ben Tre airfield,
which he
affirmed, and I said that I would escort him since I needed to
refuel anyway.
So I followed him in trail until we both landed at Ben Tre. I
instructed my
front seat to take the controls and got out walking towards
Newkirk. We met
about half-way between the parked aircraft and I asked him
what happened and if
he was alright. “We took several AK-47 rounds in the
instrument panel and some
of the instruments just exploded. I’m alright, except for a
splitting
headache”, he said. Well, I looked him straight in the eyes
and then said,
“Hold still. Don’t move.” I then plucked either the minute- or
hour-hand of the
aircraft clock that was stuck in the flesh of his nose right
between his eyes.
“You were lucky on this one”, I said.
·
Incident
at the Maintenance Hangar
– 1Lt Booterbaugh (good thing I still have my Troop
Roster, how else could I remember and even spell a name like
that) told us in
the troop officers club one night about what happened earlier
in the day. So,
this is second-hand info if you will. It
just so happened that on that day a group of Vietnamese
workers were on the
roof of the newly built hangar
tarring
nails used to hold down the corrugated steel sheets to help
reduce the rain
drops within the hangar. Lt Booterbaugh was our maintenance
officer and he was
just walking away from the hangar when a tar bucket crashed on
the ground just
in front of him. Upon closer inspection he noticed a hand
drawn map on the
bottom of the tar bucket. This map detailed the entire
helicopter parking
revetments and where most helicopters were parked. So without
further ado, Lt
Booterbaugh called the MP’s who immediately gathered up all
the workers and
took them off for interrogation. That’s the last we heard of
them. As a
footnote I may add that it was not long after this incident
that the Dong Tam
airfield came under rocket and mortar fire that was not as
accurate as it could
have been if the enemy just had that map.
·
How
to sleep standing up
– Not long after we got settled into living at Dong
Tam it became apparent that we then had enough Cobra crews so
that each pilot
would then be on duty for two days/nights, fly a night mission
or be on
counter-mortar standby the second night and then have the
third day off. I
cannot remember the exact circumstances of that day and early
evening, all that
I know was that I was tired, dead-tired. I had just finished
putting in the
usual 14-hour flying time day and was heading straight for the
BOQ when the
incoming sirens started wailing. Well, I was late getting in
the bunker that was
built first in our troop area and so every seat was taken with
standing room
only. Like I said I was tired so without further ado I just
leaned with my back
against the outer wall (still had my ‘chicken-plate’ on) and
promptly fell
asleep. I can’t remember how long that I was asleep but when I
woke up everyone
was gone; nobody, but no one thought of even waking me before
they left, oh no.
“We didn’t want to disturb you since you were sleeping so
peacefully”, they all
later said (followed by a roar of laughter) when I generally
said thanks to all
my colleagues for leaving me sleeping against the wall. Now
that’s what I call
buddies!!
·
Meet
the General (MG Ewell)
– At the end of a long day with plenty of action
during what turned out to be the “Great Battle of My Phu Tai”,
Chuck Nole and I
checked in at our troop operations and were promptly told that
we had to report
to a Colonel at 9th Div Headquarters immediately.
Oh shit, what did
we do now? Off we went to HQ. Well, the Colonel (can’t
remember his name but he
was one of those gotta-make-General types) wasn’t there at the
moment but we
could wait outside of his office (which was next to the
commanding Generals’
office). As luck would have it there just happened to be a
couch in the hall
way across from the office so we just sat down and made
ourselves comfortable.
About then, some gray-haired guy wearing a white t-shirt,
jungle-fatigue pants
and thongs on his bare feet, walks by, says something like “Hi
guys”, and
enters the Commanding Generals office. I asked Chuck, “Who was
that?” and Chuck
answered, “He’s probably the janitor” and promptly fell
asleep. Shortly
thereafter the Colonel arrived and asked us to come in to his
office and report
all that we saw during the day’s operation. Afterwards, we
found out that we
had met the Commander of the 9th Division, Major
General Ewell and
thought he was the janitor.