SKULLDUGERY
Light Horse Archives
Copyright 1997

This is a true story but some literary license and embellishment has been used.
The names have been modified to protect the guilty ?
 

It was another hot, steamy night in the Delta.
No….not the Mississippi Delta, but the Delta of the Mekong River in the Republic of Viet Nam.

    In a small, sour smelling, cigarette smoke filled room in a hootch constructed of rocket boxes with a corrugated metal roof, some Air Cavalry  helicopter pilots were carrying the usual nightly party into the wee hours of the morning.  It was Mr. Chicken’s room, but it was OK because his roommate, Magnet-ass, was working the night shift at the maintenance hangar and wouldn’t be back until after dawn.

    There was a new-guy, (FNG) about to earn the coveted yellow Cavalry scarf and he had gotten good and drunk to prepare himself for the ceremony. As Mr. Chicken held the tan colored, bare bone skull of a former enemy who had ended up as a casualty during Tet '68, other pilots began filling it with a mixture of gin, beer, cheap wine, scraps of food, cigarette butts and anything else that was handy. Chicken carefully handed the seeping macabre receptacle to the FNG. He took one small swig then simultaneously retched and threw the skull across the room.  All voices in the room fell silent, only CCR’s “Run Through the Jungle” could be heard playing as the chalice bounced off a wall and shattered on the cement floor, spilling its contents to mix with the vomitous mass puked by the FNG.  The initiation was over, the new pilot bolted from the room and was lucky to have escaped with his skin still intact.  Needless to say he didn’t earn his scarf.

     Early the next morning Chicken took the remnants of the skull to the hangar and with help from the experts there, used “Metalset” to attempt to repair it. But the revered cup still leaked badly and was nearly unusable.

    It was decided among the Scouts that a new skull should be acquired quickly so that it could receive the proper “treatment” in time to be ready to help usher in the New Year of 1971 which was only two months away.

     It wasn’t as simple as just landing beside to the next dead enemy soldier because we knew that for every Viet Cong or North Vietnamese soldier we killed there were probably three, four or more of his buddies nearby, hiding and watching the action.  That made indiscriminate landings very risky. Not to mention the appearence of possible criminal type activity.

     As it happened the day soon arrived when the conditions were perfect.  The Scout pilot was one of those “Green Mountain Boys” so I’ll call him “Lt. Green”. He was flying a Light Observation Helicopter, called a Loach, with his favorite gunner who was from the state that boasts a thousand lakes. He’ll be referred to as “Sgt. Lake.”

     Lt. Green and Sgt. Lake had been doing a visual reconnaissance in an area south of “Rat Bite” when they came under intense enemy fire from a tiny, postage stamp sized clearing in the jungle.  The Cobras rolled inbound and lightly peppered the area with 2.75mm rockets, forty millimeter grenades and mini-gun bullets. The two Scout helicopters returned to the area and continued the attack. As a result of the actions by the Scouts and the Cobras there were eight Viet Cong bodies lying around fighting positions scattered about the clearing. From a “lucky” shot by a Cobra, one VC had received a direct hit in the back by a rocket and the upper portion of his body had literally vaporized.  The rest of the bodies were just about as equally tattered and torn up.

     Green and Lake worked on a few bunkers.  Green would hover the Loach up to the entrance of a bunker then Lake would lean out of the left door of the helicopter, fire some M60 machine gun rounds at the fighting position then drop a grenade through the doorway.  As they returned to one bunker they found a dead VC soldier lying half in and half out of the fortification and his body appeared to be in fairly good condition.  Sgt. Lake turned to the pilot, gave a wink and with his eighteen year old, choirboy grin said “let’s get this guy’s head”. Lt. Green chuckled and nodded in agreement.  He radioed the Command & Control (C&C) Huey orbiting fifteen hundred feet above and explained that the last KBA (killed by airstrike) dead guy was carrying a field pack and that they were going to land and try to collect some always sought after intelligence  material.

     As Lt. Green made his approach into the tiny clearing his wingman, called a Trail, began a close-in orbit around the Loach nearing the ground to provide gun cover and security. C&C was excited about the prospect of gathering some valuable Intel and approved the landing.

    As the Loach touched down, Sgt. Lake hopped out of the aircraft and approached the dead soldier. The adrenaline was pumping, his knees were shaking so badly he could barely walk, he feared that at any moment the enemy soldier would jump up and begin shooting at him.

     Just for good measure Lake fired a couple of  rounds from his .38 pistol into the body, but took care not to hit the head. Sgt. Lake grabbed the field pack, ran back and tossed it into the rear of the helicopter. He again approached the body, this time with his Army issue Bayonet.  He kicked the body a couple of times, again just to be sure, then went to work on the guy’s neck with the very dull knife.

     C&C was getting nervous about what was taking so long. Lt. Green radioed “Wait one, we’re uh, getting a hat”.  Mr. K, the pilot of the trail aircraft had a front row seat and was in full view of all that was happening and he was going apeshit on the radio. He had to be told several times to “Wait one” while Lake was busy sawing on the VC’s neck without making much progress. As Green watched from just a few yards away he saw the frustration in Lake’s face as he held the head by the long black hair, with his knee on the VC’s chest he sawed furiously but could not cut through the spine. Suddenly the gunner threw down the bayonet, picked up the VC’s own AK 47 rifle and fired three quick shots into the neck area, although he shot off the lower jaw he finally freed the head from the torso. Sgt. Lake grabbed the prize by the hair and hauled it to the aircraft. He’d never before given much thought about how heavy a human head could be. He felt like he was carrying the whole body. He finally secured it in the cargo bay then strapped in as they lifted off.

Mission accomplished!!

     C&C was eager to see what could be gleaned from the field pack picked up in the clearing and determined that the reconnaissance mission was over and ordered the Scouts back to the lager area.

     After landing and shutting the helicopter down, Lt. Green took the field pack to the C&C ship while Sgt. Lake clandestinely began showing off their prize to the other Scout crews. Of course there were guys there with cameras and unfortunately by the next morning the Commanding Officer of the 164th Combat Aviation Group had been presented with a personal copy of a Poloroid picture of our illustrious Lt. Green holding the head, grinning and posing for the camera.

     With the “Calley Massacre” still fresh on everyone’s minds, the du-du quickly began to roll downhill and Lt. Green became akin to a dung beetle with too big of a ball. The Troop commander wanted to press for a war crimes indictment but also feared that the fallout and bad PR would affect his own career.

    Some “highers” thought the incident was comical. Some even felt that “kicking ass” and terrorizing the enemy was what Cavalrymen were supposed to do.

     Lt. Green and Sgt. Lake had fabricated a cockamamie story about how during the grenade attack on the bunker the VC’s head had been blown off and then in the excitement of the moment when Lake was grabbing the field pack, the dead soldier’s hair became entangled with Lake’s personal equipment and the pack so he just threw the whole works in the back of the helicopter. They stuck to their story and some how dodged official charges.

     By the time Mr. Chicken got the head it had been pretty well mutilated.  The ears had been cut off and some teeth had been pulled and it was getting very “ripe”.  Sgt Lake found a good ant hill near the Scout’s aircraft parking area and they buried the prize for the ants to do what they are good at.

     Within a week the Vietnamese Army Command passed the word …. they wanted the head returned!
Several days later an entire Air Cavalry package consisting of four lift Hueys, four Cobra gunships, four Scout Loaches and a C&C Huey were dispatched to reverently escort the head to a tiny ARVN firebase.

    Mr. Chicken and his favorite gunner, “Rooster”, were “volunteered” to deliver the trophy to the Vietnamese.  The partially eaten then exhumed head was wrapped in clear plastic and hundred mile an hour tape. Rooster and Chicken placed the stinking thing on the console between their seats and took off enroute to the firebase with the rest of the CAVPACK.

    When they arrived they discovered there was no helipad or even a clearing in which to safely land.  It didn’t appear that the ARVNs were even expecting them.

    Chicken dove the Loach at the firebase and while making a low level, high speed pass, Rooster unceremoniously tossed the odiferous, gruesome package out the door.

     Later as they passed through the Tactical Operations Center they were asked if they had delivered the head to the ARVNs and they both responded;

“ROGER THAT SIR!  DELIVERED AS ORDERED!!”.
 

Epilogue:
1. Lt. Green’s military career was shot in the ass. He left the Army and now owns a Private Investigation Firm.
2. Sgt. Lake also left the Army. He’s been a police officer for many years and is a SWAT Sniper.
3. The Troop Commander eventually earned the rank of Major General and has very little to say to former members of our Troop.