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WELL, BURST MY BUBBLE WILL YA?

It was a typical hot and humid day for that time of the year as we set out for our current assignment, which was to work with LZ Grant, located a few miles North/Northeast of Mt. Nui Ba Den. Hawg was flying lead ship with his gunner and I was flying wing position with my gunner. We checked in with LZ Grant and were directed to scout a specific grid area to the west of the base camp. One of the field companies had run across evidence of enemy movement into that area. As we moved into the designated location, I noted that the area was not as solid with trees as it sometimes was. I thought of it more like a forest than a jungle.

Upon entering the grid area, we started a zigzag flight pattern looking for evidence of enemy occupation. Of course, we were flying low level, between five and ten feet above the canopy at an average speed of 60 knots. We had not been at it for very long when Hawg yelled “receiving fire” over the radio and started firing his mini-gun as his gunner leaned out the side of the ship and opened up with his M60 machine gun. As wingman, one of my functions was to cover the lead ship’s ass in such a situation. So, I immediately pulled power to increase my air speed and started firing my mini-gun while my gunner laid suppressing fire on the area with his M60. We cleared the target area and then proceeded to engage the enemy by setting up a Cloverleaf flight pattern. This flight pattern was very similar to its namesake, as one ship would fly in, say from the West, firing in on the target area and then break off, just short of the target area, to the right heading South. As the ship was flying away from that area, the pilot would press the right pedal causing the aircraft to turn slightly to the right even though the direction of flight has not changed. This action enables the gunner to lean out of the ship and fire back on the target area, providing additional coverage for our backs. At the time the first ship is breaking away, the second ship would be flying in from another direction, say North, and would be firing on the target. While the second ship was firing on the target area, the first ship would clear the target area, initiate a sharp right turn and be flying back on to the target area from a Southerly direction. The first ship would be back on target in time to cover the second ship’s break away. This was a highly effective tactic as it provided almost continuous fire on the enemy from several directions making it difficult for them to find adequate cover.

I was swinging in for either my third or fourth run on the target area when my mini-gun jammed after a half-second burst. Now, I really liked the mini-gun because it made a loud Brrrrr noise and shoots out a flame between 9 and 12 inches wide and 1 ½ to 2 feet long as it fired approximately 240 rounds per second. It was a great gun because it was very intimidating with it’s flame and noise, it saturated the target area with bullets and it blocked out the sound of the enemy firing back at me. However, the ability to aim this magnificent weapon was somewhat limited, therefore we were more reliant upon the Scout Gunner to accurately lay suppressing fire where it was needed. So, although I was a little disappointed, I was not worried because my gunner was already half out on the skid with his M-60 blaring away. Well, that is I wasn’t too concerned until the gunner’s M60 jammed as well. All right, NOW, I am in deep shit as I was already committed to the target and couldn't break away without exposing myself and Hawg was not in a position to cover me.

After a quick re-evaluation of our situation, the only thing I could think to do was to grab the AK-47 (a Russian machine gun used by the NVA & Gooks), sitting next to me, point it out the door and start firing. Now this was a completely useless gesture because I couldn’t really aim it at the target and all I could do was make a little bang-bang noise with it. However, I felt that firing the AK-47 was better then doing nothing at all and I did not want to give the enemy below any impression that we were defenseless, even if that was the fact. But, my efforts to create such an impression was curtailed abruptly when the AK-47 jammed on the 5th round (!@#$%^&)!!!

So all right. It just was not my day. At that time, all I wanted to do was to stick my head out the door and yell “I quit” and then go home with my tail tucked between my legs. Unfortunately, the folks on the ground still wanted to play turkey shoot and we were the turkeys. All of this took only seconds as I was flying in on the target at a speed of 100 to 120 knots. I figured that our asses were a goner unless I could find a way to pull it out of the fire.

It has always been my predisposition to try and create an effective impression on others. Essentially, the first line of action is to dazzle someone with my brilliance, but if that does not work, and usually it doesn’t for me anyway, then the second choice is to create the impression of strength and prowess. Now, if this does not work, which happens more often than I wish, then the last line of action is to confuse them with bullshit. Therefore, after thoroughly analyzing the situation, I realized that the first two options had been tried, failed, and were no longer available to me. So I proceeded directly to option #3 and started manipulating all of the aircraft controls at the same time. I pulled full throttle for maximum power and started popping the collective pitch up and down along with rotating the cyclic stick around and hitting right/left pedals. Moving the collective pitch in this manner caused the aircraft to bob up and down, not much, just a few inches and it also resulted in some fluctuation in my forward speed. The cyclic stick controls the blades rotating above me and caused a slight wobble in the aircraft. The foot pedals controlled the tail rotor blades which are used to cancel the torque created by the engine as it rotated the main rotor blades. Pushing the pedals caused the nose of the aircraft to rotate between right and left directions. So the aircraft was essentially bobbing up and down and wobbling while constantly changing direction from right and left and back again. In other words, I looked like a staggering drunk flying just above the trees.

The actual intent of this strategy was to be a difficult target to hit. However, if the truth was known, I would bet that the enemy was either so confused as to what they were seeing or they were laughing their guts out. In hindsight, I realized that this antic helped by pulling so much power, that I actually sunk down just below the treetops and was flying between the trees making us a more difficult target to hit. I maintained this maneuver for only a few seconds after which time I figured we were far enough away from the target area that we could break off and go back to the LZ. It was at that time that I saw the biggest, widest tree that I have ever seen in Nam just a few yards directly in front of me. I only had time to yell "OH SHIT!" while pulling back on the cyclic and up on the collective in an attempt to climb up above the tree.

Needles to say, God was with us that day as he not only got us safely past the target area, but he also allowed my rotor blades to clear the tree. Now, we have all heard the phrase to “burst someone’s bubble”, well, that is exactly what happened to me that day. That Plexiglas bubble that I sat behind was very effective in giving me a clear un-obstructive view of what I was flying into and protecting me from a variety of elements. Unfortunately, it would not protect me from birds, bullets and of course, trees. However the most important fact was that the main rotor blades and engine remained undamaged for without them, we had no chance to maintain any form of flight. But that did not hold true for the rest of the ship and it’s inhabitants as we went through the tree lot, stock & barrel. For a second there, I thought I was dead as the Plexiglas broke inward and I was being bombarded with limbs, twigs and leaves from the tree. I mean they hit every inch of my body and only my backside was not being battered since I was sitting in an armored chair. I must have still been blessed for somehow, we cleared that tree and were still alive. Well sort of anyway. I was dazed. My mind was not functioning. I was still stuck on the thought that I was going to die in that tree. Fortunately, the Army trained us well and I had learned something from flying four to eight hours every day for the past two-three months. Although my thoughts and consciousness was still focused on the “dying in the tree” scenario, my body and reflexes continued controlling the aircraft by flying straight and level over the treetops. I do not know how long I was in this state of shock but it could not have been more that a minute when I began to realize that I was hearing someone over the radio.

Okay, it takes a while to try and explain what happens in a span of two to three minutes, but a lot happens in a very, very short time during an immediate crisis situation. Also, I have to admit, that in the middle of that “shit”, I was not thinking about anything but getting out of there and dying. That was my state of mind until I realized that the voice I was hearing in my headset came from my gunner in the backseat and he was saying "Pokey, are you okay?"

Well, that helped me to grasp the fact that I was not dead back there in that tree and we were still flying. I began to pull myself together and started trying to consciously take control of the aircraft. However, I was having trouble controlling my voice, which did not help my gunner’s situation. From his perspective, we survived the enemy, the tree and the ship was flying which was great, that is if there was nothing wrong with his pilot.

Take a moment and imagine that you are sitting in the back of a limousine with an unbreakable window panel between you and the driver. All of a sudden you realize that the driver is having a heart attach while driving down the highway at 80 to 90 miles per hour. Now, imagine that the limousine is approximately one hundred feet above the ground! Get the picture? My health was very important to him, as he had no way to reach those controls from the back seat if anything happened to me.

As I slowly regained control of myself, I was able to hear the stress in my gunner’s voice as he kept repeating his question, but I still could not respond. Finally, he started jabbing my left shoulder and screaming "POKEY! Say something dam it!" Well, it was either his jabbing of my shoulder or the desperation in his voice, that finally enabled me to regain enough control to respond with a weak "I'm okay."

It took a few more seconds before I was finally able to take back control of my body and respond to Hawg who was also beginning to get upset with my lack of response. We flew back to LZ Grant, and after landing, the gunner jumped out of the aircraft and started chewing me out for scaring him to death. After a few minutes of being berated by my gunner, we checked the chopper out and although it was a little beat up, determined that it would be able to make it back to base camp.

We returned home safely and received the expected lecture and fussing for the damage to the aircraft and breaking the bubble by hitting a tree. There had been a recent increase in the tree/bubble encounters, which made this a sore subject with the Captain. That is until he flew low level a few weeks later and managed to hit a tree, but that is another story. As it was, I finally got back to my hooch in one piece and proceeded to get rid of the souvenirs from the tree. I'll swear, albeit I do not know how, that there were twigs and leaves in every part of my clothes including all the way down in my socks and underwear.

story by James B. Howard Sr.