Gunfighter-2

Gunfighter Airlines -Part 2

PRODIGY(R) Service Personal Message 02/03/96

To: AFWA58C From: AFWA58A

Subject: Gunfighters -Part 2 Date: 02/03/9608:50 PM

* * * * * * * * * * * Gunfighter Airlines -Part 2

After several hours of talking about last minute things to remember (oil changes on the car, yard schedules, how to run the tape recorder, etc.), I hugged my family and bid them a tearful farewell for a long time. As my plane lifted off the runway at Love Field, I prayed that God would take care of them and that we would be reunited again at the end of my tour in Vietnam. I knew that it would be a hard year, but I couldn't imagine then just how hard it would really be.

The flight to Norton AFB, CA was full of thoughts of family and the long year apart that was just beginning. Though I would arrive in California later than originally planned, it really didn't hinder my flight on to DaNang. I just got to Norton about 3-4 hours later than I would have. I checked in to the Norton AFB BOQ (Bachelor Officer Quarters) and had a restless night that passed very quickly in spite of that fact. Early the next morning, I reported to the air terminal and was given my seat on an Air Force contract flight on Continental Airlines. We took off at about 8:00 a.m., Pacific time and settled down for a LONG flight. Every 4-5 hours, the stewardesses made their rounds with another meal and coffee and colas in between. We made a brief stop for fuel at Wake Island, a tiny dot in the middle of the Pacific, then back into the air for our final destination. I counted four full meals in the air. All in all, it was 23 hours in the air before we made our approach to DaNang .

As we flew over the coast of Vietnam, all eyes were against the windows to see what could be seen. There were no lighted cities and there was little that could be seen at all. It was midnight, local time, and you could make out what looked to be low fires burning at several locations. The Continental pilot came in very high and made a steep, straight in approach to the runway. I found out later that all incoming flights were subject to be fired upon by Viet Cong in the area. The steep approach was one way to limit damage by reducing the time of exposure at low altitude. I had to hand it to the Continental flight crews who came in daily bringing fresh troops to battle and hauling exhausted ones home after their year of duty. These crews were civilians, but they should have earned combat pay. They were also very good at morale building. They knew that many of those GI's would probably not be coming back a year later and they seemed to want to give each man all that they could.

On the ground, the plane slowed near the end of the runway and turned off toward what would be a terminal?. The lights on the runway and taxiways were very dim and went off quickly after we were on the ground. As we rolled along toward our disembarkation point, we passed dozens of 10-foot tall metal revetments. It was hard to make out the darkened and sinister-looking F-4s that were parked in relative safety inside the sand-filled metal walls. The darkness and the uncertainty of where we were and what we were about to do gave all of us a very uncomfortable feeling.

When we finally stopped and the engines wound to a halt, we were told to stay in our seats until we were specifically told to get off. The door opened and an officer in fatigues came on board to welcome us to DaNang and give us a quick briefing on what to expect. He told us that if a rocket or mortar attack began, we should lie down on the ramp and crawl to shelters and he then described where those were. He then escorted us off the plane and into a large hanger where we waited until all bags had been offloaded and brought in to be claimed. We each picked up our bag (100 pounds) and followed the officer to the linen pickup point. There, we were issued sheets and a blanket and told to "find a bunk anyplace down this row of barracks for the night." It was to be a temporary assignment and on the next morning we would be assigned our permanent quarters for the tour.

By then, it's 2:00 a.m. local time and I'm totally beat. I luckily found an empty bunk in the first barracks I looked in and (in the dark) just set down my bag and flopped on the cot. If there was any noise or commotion that night, I didn't hear any of it.

An aside here... A good friend, Gerald Wakefield, whom I met at DaNang told me that on his arrival there, he lugged his sheets and 100 pound bag through 3-4 barracks before finding an empty upper bunk. He went to bed and slept through the night. When he awoke, he said to a room full of men, "Good morning!" That was when he discovered that no one there spoke English. He had wandered into a Vietnamese Air Force barracks! He said he picked up his 100 pounds of luggage and beat it out of there as fast as he could go.

When I awoke, my temporary roommates at least spoke English, but they were some kind of civilian construction people (or maybe CIA?). I checked in to the quarters assignments and was given a bunk in one of the old French barracks in the Air Force compound which was located about the middle of the base. (A good place to be...I wanted as far away from the perimeter fence as I could get.)

My bunk mates were all nice guys...some more weird than others, but nice, each in their own way. I found that anyone who had been there more than a few months had their own brand of weirdness.

Among those who stand out in my memory, was Charlie O'Brien. He was the head pilot for the C-47s that daily flew supplies into DaNang from Hong Kong, Bangkok and the Philippines. He and his co-pilot, Jim Brown, both lived in my barracks. The 366th Tactical Fighter Wing, of which we all were a part, was known as the "Gunfighters" because of their success at first hanging the 20 millimeter gatling gun (a rotary cannon capable of firing about 4,000 rounds per minute!) on the centerline mount of the F-4. This allowed a tremendous increase in firepower and became a symbol of the 366th. ..a spook holding a blazing gun pod. Because of that wing emblem, the C-47 operation became known as "Gunfighter Airlines". And I would play a small part in that during my stay. I didn't know at the time what a great advantage that would be.

When I reported in for duty, it was confirmed that I was assigned to Intelligence where I would brief strike crews each day. I was introduced to my co-workers and given a pile of papers and books to read about daily bombing operations. For several days, I was following others through the routine.

Daily, we de-briefed crews as they returned from strike missions. That gave us valuable information on location of targets and defenses that we passed on to the next flight. Using intelligence reports from others about the presence of enemy fighters, gun locations, and potential targets, we put together our own little variations on the missions we were planning. Each crew member had the benefit of knowing what all of his fellow crewmembers had experienced.

It was a little overpowering to know that you were in the middle of a 24 hour a day wartime operation. DaNang was touted as "the busiest airfield in the world." At any hour of the day and night, the sound of angry afterburners blasted your ears and the smell of JP4 jet fuel was always in the wind. All shifts were 12 hours long and we worked seven days a week. Sundays were work days like any other, but I always managed to take an hour or so to attend worship services with other members of the church at the base chapel. Surprisingly, we had about 45 members attending there.

Right from the start, I found that the nights were going to be the hardest. My first bunk was a top-bunk of a double-decker. It was two feet higher than the sandbag revetment that protected the lower part of the barracks. It gave me a lot of dark thoughts, knowing that a rocket attack could find me so exposed. I made plans to take the first lower bunk that became available!

Rockets did become a very common-place thing, but they were never boring. I think the second night I was there was my introduction to the 122 millimeter rocket. It was about 6-8 inches in diameter and more than six feet long. It was hauled in range of the field (about 3-4 miles) by the Viet Cong on elephants, bicycles, and on the backs of peasants, then crudely aimed at the airfield and ignited by simple flashlight batteries. The warhead would detonate on impact and shower a wide area with sharp shrapnel. You definitely did NOT want to be standing exposed to a rocket blast within 50 yards of you. It could probably cut you in two.

The barracks was the typical long, narrow building with a bathroom and shower in the center. The top half of the walls was all screens, letting the breezes flow through (and sometimes the rains.) All down the length of the barracks were old ceiling fans that circled slowly, moving the hot, damp air, but not really cooling very much. At night, after a long day, I would find myself writing letters home in the only place I could find a light...the bathroom. It was not a very inviting place. The floors were dark concrete. The shower was dark concrete and very moldy, with a ratty looking very mildewed plastic shower curtain. There were six fairly nice sinks in the center with cracked mirrors over each.

As a member of the Intelligence staff, I attended the daily Operations Briefings for the Wing Commander, often giving an intelligence report to the staff. Because of my job, I often knew of enemy plans to attack in our area. (Many times, of course, we DIDN'T know.) It gave me an excellent view of the total operation of the Wing, though, being at these daily briefings.

Meals were available at the Mess Hall, which-was conveniently located in the Air Force Compound, just across the street from my barracks. In those early days, meals were very much described by the term, "Mess Hall." The eggs in the morning were powdered, reconstituted eggs that tasted 1ike rubber. The food each day was filling and probably nutritious, but certainly not palatable. To really set it off, it was all served on divided metal trays.

* * * Next time...a change of assignments * * *