PART V

THE AIRLIFT

The weather at Khe Sanh throughout February could be characterized

in one word--miserable. General Tompkins remarked that, for combat

purposes, the weather was the worst that he'd ever seen. The northeast

monsoons had long since spilled over into the Khe Sanh Valley and every

morning the base was shrouded with ground fog and low scud layers which

dissipated around 1000 or 1100. When the sun finally managed to burn

through, the cloud ceiling retreated slightly but still hovered low

enough to prevent the unrestricted use of airborne artillery spotters

and strike aircraft. It was during these periods, when the overcast was

between 100 and 500 feet, that enemy artillery, rocket, and mortar fire

was the heaviest. The NVA forward observers, perched along the lower

slopes of the surrounding hills, called in and adjusted barrages with

little fear of retaliation against their own gun positions. Later in

the afternoon, when the fog rolled in again and obscured the enemy's

view, the incoming tapered off.[33](114)

The Marines adjusted their schedule accordingly. They usually worked

under the cover of the haze in the morning, went underground during the

midday shelling, and returned to their duties later in the afternoon.

While the extremely low cloud cover occasionally befriended the men

at the base, it constantly plagued the pilots whose mission was to

resupply the 26th Marines.

The job of transporting enough "bullets, beans, and bandages" to

sustain the 6,680 Khe Sanh defenders fell to the C-130s of Marine

Aerial Refueler Transport Squadron 152 and the U. S. Air Force 834th

Air Division; the C-123s of the 315th Air Commando Wing; the UH-34,

CH-46, and UH-1E helicopters of Marine Aircraft Group 36 (MAG-36); and

the CH-53 choppers of MAG-16.[34](115)

[Illustration: Ground fog in the morning and late afternoon shrouded

the base obscuring the view of both the enemy and the Marines. (Photo

courtesy David D. Duncan)]

[Illustration: The reduced visibility from fog and haze hampered air

operations. Crews of Marine UH-1E gunships wait for ceiling to lift.

(Photo courtesy David D. Duncan)]

Even under ideal circumstances, the airlift would have been a massive

undertaking. The difficulties, however, were compounded by the poor

visibility which was below minimum for airfield operations 40 percent

of the time and the heavy volume of antiaircraft and artillery fire

directed at the incoming transports. The NVA had moved several

antiaircraft units into the hills east of the airstrip forcing the

C-130 Hercules, the C-123 Providers, and the helicopters to run the

gauntlet during their final approach. Under cover of the heavy fog,

some audacious NVA gun crews positioned their antiaircraft weapons

just off the eastern threshold of the runway and fired in the blind

whenever they heard the drone of incoming planes. Several aircraft were

hit while on GCA final and completely in the soup.[35](116) Immediately

after touchdown, the aircraft were subjected to intense mortar and

rocket fire; in fact, the incoming was so closely synchronized with

their arrival, the fixed-wing transports were nicknamed "mortar

magnets" by the Marines.(117)

[Illustration: View of airstrip at Khe Sanh facing east. (Photo

courtesy David D. Duncan)]

[Illustration: U. S. Air Force C-130 about to touch down after

approaching from the east. (Photo courtesy David D. Duncan)]

The key to survival for the pilots was a steep approach through the

eastern corridor, a short roll-out, and a speedy turnaround after

landing. A small ramp paralleled the western end of the strip which the

transport crews used as an unloading point. After roll-out, the pilot

turned off the runway onto the easternmost taxiway, then wheeled onto

the ramp while the loadmasters shoved the pallets of supplies out the

back.[36] All outgoing passengers were loaded on the double because the

planes rarely stopped rolling. The pilot completed the loop by turning

back onto the runway via the western taxiway and took off in the

opposite direction from which he landed. It was not uncommon for the

entire circuit to be completed within three minutes; even then, the

planes were tracked by exploding mortar rounds.(118)

On 10 February, a tragedy occurred which resulted in a drastic

alteration of the unloading process. A Marine C-130, heavily laden

with bladders of fuel for the 26th Marines, was making its approach to

the field under intense fire. Just before the giant bird touched down,

the cockpit and fuel bags were riddled by enemy bullets. With flames

licking at one side, the stricken craft careened off the runway 3,100

feet from the approach end, spun around, and was rocked by several

muffled explosions. The C-130 then began to burn furiously. Crash crews

rushed to the plane and started spraying it with foam. The pilot, Chief

Warrant Officer Henry Wildfang, and his copilot suffered minor burns as

they scrambled out the overhead hatch in the cockpit. Fire fighters in

specially designed heat suits dashed into the flaming debris and pulled

several injured crewmen and passengers to safety--rescue attempts came

too late for six others. One of those killed in the crash, Lieutenant

Colonel Carl E. Peterson, the 1st MAW Engineer Officer, was a reserve

officer who only a few months before had volunteered for active duty.

As a result of this accident and damage sustained by other transports

while on the ground, C-130 landings at Khe Sanh were suspended.(119)

[Illustration: Death of a Hercules. A C-130 of Marine Aerial Refueler

Transport Squadron 152 burns after crashing at the base. (Photo

courtesy David D. Duncan)]

[Illustration: Crash crew at Khe Sanh pours foam on a burning CH-46

helicopter following an enemy artillery attack. (USMC Photo A190350)]

With the field closed to C-130s, a U. S. Air Force innovation--the

Low Altitude Parachute Extraction System or LAPES--was put into

effect. This self-contained system, which had been used extensively

during the renovation of the airstrip in the fall of 1967, enabled

the aircraft to unload their cargo without landing. When making a

LAPES run, the Hercules pilot made his approach from the east during

which he opened the tail ramp and deployed a reefed cargo parachute.

Prior to touchdown, he added just enough power to hold the aircraft

about five feet above the ground. As the plane skimmed over the runway

and approached the intended extraction point, the pilot electrically

opened the streaming chute which was attached to the roller-mounted

cargo pallets. The sudden jolt of the blossoming chute snatched the

cargo from the rear hatch and the pallets came to a skidding halt on

the runway. The pilot then jammed the throttles to the firewall, eased

back on the yoke, and executed a high-angle, westerly pull-out to avoid

ground fire while the Marines moved onto the runway with forklifts

and quickly gathered in the supplies. The system was quite ingenious

and allowed the aircraft to pass through the V-ring in a matter of

seconds.[37] Even though the airmen could not control the skidding

pallets after release, some pilots perfected their individual technique

and were able to place the cargo on a 25-meter square with consistency.

On one occasion, however, an extraction chute malfunctioned and the

cargo rocketed off the western end of the runway; the eight-ton pallet

of lumber smashed into a messhall located near the end of the strip and

crushed three Marines to death.(120)

Another technique--the Ground Proximity Extraction System or GPES--was

also used but to a lesser degree than the LAPES. (15 GPES deliveries

during the siege as compared to 52 LAPES.) Both utilized the low

approach but with GPES the cargo was extracted by a hook extended from

a boom at the rear of the aircraft. As the C-130 swooped low over the

runway, the pilot tried to snag an arresting cable similar to the one

used on aircraft carriers; only his hook was attached to the cargo

bundles and not the plane. Upon engagement, the pallets were jerked

from the rear hatch and came to a dead stop on the runway. With the

GPES, the chance of a pallet skidding out of control or overturning was

greatly reduced. The only problem that occurred was not with the system

itself but with faulty installation. The Marines who initially emplaced

the GPES were frequently chased away from their work by incoming mortar

rounds and, as a result of the periodic interruptions, the cable was

not anchored properly. The first C-130 that snagged the wire ripped

the arresting gear out by the roots. After the initial bugs were

remedied, the system worked so successfully that, on one pass, a load

containing 30 dozen eggs was extracted without a single eggshell being

cracked.(121)

Most of the time, however, the low overcast precluded the use of either

extraction system and the preponderance of supplies was delivered by

paradrops. This technique called for close air/ground coordination and

the C-130 pilots relied on the Marine Air Traffic Control Unit (MATCU)

at Khe Sanh to guide them in to the drop zones. The Marine ground

controller lined the aircraft up on the long axis of the runway for a

normal instrument approach and when the Hercules passed a certain point

over the eastern threshold of the field, the controller called "Ready,

Ready, Mark." At "Mark," the pilot pushed a stop watch, activated his

Doppler navigational system, turned to a predetermined heading and

maintained an altitude of between 500 and 600 feet. The Doppler device

indicated any deviation from the desired track to the drop zone, which

was west of Red Sector, and the release point was calculated by using

the stop watch--20 to 26 seconds from "Mark," depending on the winds.

At the computed release point, the pilot pulled the C-130 into an

8-degree nose-up attitude and 16 parachute bundles, containing 15 tons

of supplies, slid from the rear of the aircraft and floated through the

overcast into the 300-meter-square drop zone. Under Visual Flight Rules

(VFR), the average computed error for the drops was only 95 meters.

Even when these missions were executed completely under Instrument

Flight Rules (IFR), the average distance that the bundles landed from

the intended impact point was 133 meters--well inside the drop zone.

On a few occasions, however, the parachute bundles missed the zone and

drifted far enough away from the base to preclude a safe recovery. In

these rare instances, friendly artillery and air strikes were brought

to bear on the wayward containers to keep them from falling into the

hands of the enemy. During the siege, Air Force C-130 crews conducted a

total of 496 paradrops at Khe Sanh.[38](122)

Although the paradrops were sufficient for bulk commodities such

as rations and ammunition, there were certain items which had to

be delivered or picked up personally. Medical supplies, special

ammunition, and other delicate cargo would not withstand the jolt

of a parachute landing. In addition, there were replacements to

be shuttled into the base and casualties to be evacuated. With the

cancellation of all C-130 landings, this job was left up to the sturdy

C-123 Providers of the 315th Air Commando Wing as well as MAG-36 and

MAG-16 helicopters. The choppers could maneuver around areas of heavy

ground fire, land, unload, take on medevacs, and depart very quickly

but their payloads were limited. On the other hand, the C-123s had a

larger cargo capacity but were restricted to a more rigid approach and

provided better targets both in the pattern and on the ground.[39](123)

The Providers, however, required much less runway from which to operate

than the C-130s and could land and take off using only 1,400 of the

3,900 foot strip. This saving feature enabled the pilots to make a

steep approach, short roll-out, and rapid turnaround. The crews still

had to undergo those frantic moments on the ground when the geysers of

dirty-black smoke bracketed their aircraft. Nevertheless, the dauntless

C-123 crews continued their perilous missions throughout the siege with

great success.(124)

No discussion of the airlift would be complete without mention of

the MAG-36 and MAG-16 helicopter pilots who flew in and out of Khe

Sanh daily delivering supplies, delicate cargo, reinforcements, and

evacuating casualties. The chopper crews were faced with the same

problems that plagued the fixed-wing transports--low ceilings and enemy

ground fire--but to a greater degree because of their slow speed and

vulnerability. MAG-36 operated primarily from Quang Tri and Dong Ha,

and was reinforced from the group's main base at Phu Bai. These valiant

pilots and crewmen in their Huey gunships, CH-46 transports, and UH-34s

flew long hours, day and night, in all kinds of weather to sustain the

Marines in and around Khe Sanh. The CH-53s of Da Nang-based MAG-16,

with their heavier payload, also made a sizeable contribution to this

effort.(125)

[Illustration: C-130 Hercules conducts paradrops west of Red Sector.

(USMC Photo A190803)]

[Illustration: A UH-34 of MAG-36 departs Khe Sanh on its way to the

hill outposts. (Photo courtesy David D. Duncan)]

The resupply of the hill outposts was a particularly hazardous aspect

of the overall mission. Approximately 20 percent of Colonel Lownds'

personnel occupied these redoubts and, for all practical purposes,

were cut off from the rest of the garrison. The road north of the base

was not secure and the perimeters atop the hills were too small and

irregular for parachute drops; the only way that the isolated posts

could be sustained was by helicopter. When the dense monsoon clouds

rolled into the valley, the mountain tops were the first to become

submerged and, as the overcast lifted, the last to reappear. During

February, several of the outposts were completely obscured for more

than a week and resupply was impossible. During these periods, the

North Vietnamese took advantage of the reduced visibility and emplaced

heavy automatic weapons along the neighboring peaks and waited for the

ceiling to lift which invariably heralded the arrival of helicopters.

As a result, the UH-1Es, UH-34s, and CH-46s were subjected to a hail of

enemy bullets during each mission.(126)

When the helicopters proceeded to the hills singly or in small groups,

each mission was a hair-raising experience for both the chopper crews

and the men on the ground. A good example of what often transpired

during those frantic moments occurred early in the siege on Hill 881S

when Captain Dabney called for a chopper to evacuate a badly wounded

Marine. One corporal was assigned as a stretcher bearer because he

had a badly impacted wisdom tooth and, once aboard, he could ride

out on the helicopter and have the tooth extracted at the main

base.[40] Because of the 120mm mortars located in the Horseshoe and the

antiaircraft guns which ringed the hill, the men on 881S had to employ

a variety of diversions to keep the enemy gunners from getting the

range of the incoming choppers. In this instance, they threw a smoke

grenade a good distance away from the actual landing zone in hopes that

the gunners would register on the smoke and the helicopter would be in

and out before the North Vietnamese could readjust. This meant that the

helo had about 19 seconds to get off the ground.(127)

The ruse did not come off as planned. The stretcher bearers had

barely loaded the wounded man aboard the helicopter, a CH-46, when

120mm mortar rounds bracketed the aircraft and spurred the pilot to

action. The helo lurched into the air and the sudden jolt rolled the

corporal with the bad tooth over the edge of the tail ramp; he held on

desperately for a few seconds but finally let go and fell about 20 feet

to the ground. Cursing to himself, the young man limped back to his

trench and waited for another chance.

Later that day, a UH-34 swooped in to pick up another casualty and the

prospective dental patient quickly scrambled aboard. This trip also

covered about 20 feet--10 feet up and 10 feet down--because the tail

rotor of the UH-34 was literally sawed off by a burst from an enemy

machine gun just after the bird became airborne. After the swirling

craft came to rest, the passengers and the three-man crew quickly

clamored out the hatch and dived into a nearby trench. A heavy mortar

barrage ensued during which several more men were hit.

By the time another CH-46 arrived on the scene, the passenger list had

grown to 14, including 10 casualties, the crew of the downed helo, and

the original dental case. Because of the heavy concentration of enemy

fire in the original zone, the Marines had blasted out another landing

site on the opposite side of the hill. The chopper touched down and 13

of the 14 Marines boarded before the crew chief stated emphatically

that the aircraft was full. As luck would have it, the young Marine

with the swollen jaw was the 14th man. Thoroughly indignant, the

three-time loser returned to his position and mumbled that he would

rather suffer from a toothache than try and get off the hill by

helicopter.[41](128)

It was the consensus of both the ground commanders and pilots alike

that the problem of getting helicopters to and from the hills was

becoming critical. The technique then employed was resulting in

casualties among both the air crews and the infantry units, as well as

a rapid rise in the attrition of MAG-36 helicopters. The Huey gunships,

though putting forth a valiant effort, did not possess the heavy volume

of fire required to keep the approach lanes open. As a result, the 1st

MAW adopted another system which provided more muscle.(129)

The solution was basically a page out of the Fleet Marine Force Manual

for Helicopter Support Operations. All helicopter flights to the hill

outposts were to be escorted by strike aircraft which would provide

suppressive fire. The A-4 Skyhawks of Chu Lai-based MAG-12 were

selected as the fixed-wing escorts and the little jet was perfect for

the job. Affectionately referred to as "Scooters" by their pilots,

the A-4 was a highly maneuverable attack aircraft; its accuracy,

dependability, and varied ordnance load had made it the workhorse of

Marine close air support for many years.

[Illustration: After introduction of the Super Gaggle, CH-46

helicopters with their 4,000-pound external loads proceeded to the hill

outposts in convoy. (USMC Photo A422061)]

[Illustration: A-4 Skyhawks of Marine Aircraft Group-12 provided

suppressive fire during resupply missions. (USMC Photo A421671)]

Generals Cushman and Anderson conceived the idea and the details were

worked out by Colonel Joel B. Bonner, Lieutenant Colonel William J.

White, and Lieutenant Colonel Richard E. Carey at 1st MAW Headquarters.

The operation went into effect on 24 February. Because of the large

number of aircraft utilized in each mission--12 A-4s, 1 TA-4, 12

CH-46s, and 4 UH-1E gunships--the overall effort was nicknamed the Super

Gaggle by its planners. The difficulty in execution was primarily one

of coordination and control because of the various agencies (i.e.

MAG-36, MAG-12, 3d MarDiv G-4, Dong Ha Logistics Support Area, and the

units on the hill outposts) which were involved. Additional factors

that had to be considered were departure weather, destination weather,

and coordination of friendly artillery and air strikes around Khe Sanh.

Lieutenant Colonel Carey, the 1st MAW Operations Officer and one of the

planners, later described the mechanics of the Super Gaggle:

Success of the effort was predicated on timing, coordination, and

often times luck. Luck, as used, refers to the ability to guess

whether the weather would hold long enough to complete an effort

once it got underway. The effort began with the TA-4 on station

determining if sufficient ceiling existed for the "Scooters"

of MAG-12 to provide sufficient suppressive fires to assure

success.... Once the TA-4 called all conditions go, an "H" hour

was set and the Super Gaggle began. Twelve A-4s would launch from

Chu Lai while simultaneously 100 miles to the north 12-16 helos

would launch from the Quang Tri helo base and proceed to the Dong

Ha LSA (Logistics Support Area) for supply pickup. The object was

for all aircraft to arrive in the objective area on a precise

schedule. So the operation generally consisted as follows: (1)

Softening up known enemy positions by four A-4s, generally armed

with napalm and bombs; (2) Two A-4s armed with CS (tear gas) tanks

saturate enemy antiaircraft and automatic weapons positions; (3)

30-40 seconds prior to final run in by the helos two A-4s lay a

smoke screen along selected avenues of approach.... (4) While helos

make final run into the target, four A-4s with bombs, rockets, and

20mm guns provide close-in fire suppression.... Once the helos

commenced their descent the factors of weather, their 4,000-pound

externally carried load, and the terrain would not permit a second

chance. If an enemy gun was not suppressed there was no alternative

for the helos but to continue. They (the transport pilots) were

strengthened with the knowledge that following close on their

heels were their gunships ready to pick them up if they survived

being shot down. Fortunately, these tactics were so successful

that during the entire period of the Super Gaggle only two CH-46s

were downed enroute to the hill positions. The crews were rescued

immediately by escorting Huey gunships.[42](130)

These missions, however, looked much more orderly on paper than they

did in the air and the operation lived up to its name. Only those who

have experienced the hazards of monsoon flying can fully appreciate the

veritable madhouse that often exists when large numbers of aircraft

are confined to the restricted space beneath a low-hanging overcast.

Coupled with this was the fact that the fluffy looking clouds around

Khe Sanh housed mountains which ran up to 3,000 feet. No doubt, the

aircrews involved in the Gaggle were mindful of the standard warning

issued to fledgling aviators: "Keep your eyes out of the cockpit;

a mid-air collision could ruin your whole day." Even though the

missions were well-coordinated and executed with a high degree of

professionalism, it often appeared that confusion reigned because

planes were everywhere. A-4s bore in on the flanks of the approach

lanes blasting enemy gun positions and spewing protective smoke;

CH-46s groped through the haze trying to find the landing zones; the

hornet-like UH-1E gunships darted in from the rear in case someone was

shot down; and the lone TA-4 circled overhead trying to keep his flock

from running amuck. During the missions to 881S, the men of India and

Mike, 3/26, added to the hullabaloo with a little twist of their own.

When the CH-46s settled over the hill, the Marines on the ground tossed

out a few dozen smoke grenades for added cover and then every man in

the perimeter fired a full magazine at anything on the surrounding

slopes which appeared hostile. With some 350 men hosing down the

countryside at the same time, the din was terrific.

Neither the deluge of lead from 881S nor the suppressive fire of the

jets and gunships kept the NVA completely quiet. The 120mm mortar

crews in the Horseshoe were especially active during the resupply

runs to 881S and always lobbed some rounds onto the hill in hopes of

knocking down a helicopter. These tubes had been previously registered

on the LZs and the smoke screens had little effect on their fire; as

a result, the Marines frequently shifted landing zones.[43] The smoke

did block the view of the North Vietnamese machine gunners and they

were forced to fire blindly through the haze--if they dared fire at

all. The choppers still took hits but nowhere near as many as before

the Gaggle was initiated. The CH-46 pilots, poised precariously above

the LZs during the few agonizing seconds it took to unload their cargo,

often heard the sickening smack which meant that a bullet had torn into

the fuselage of their thin-skinned helos. The members of the two-man

Helicopter Support Teams (HST), 3d Shore Party Battalion who were

attached to the rifle companies were also prime targets. These men had

to stand up while they guided the choppers into the LZs and, every few

days, they had to attach bundles of cargo nets, which accumulated from

previous missions, for the return trip to Dong Ha. This was dangerous

for the aircrews as well as the HST men because, during the hook-up,

the pilots had to hold their aircraft in a vulnerable position a few

feet above the ground with the nose cocked up and the belly exposed

to fire from the front. While they attached the bundles, the ground

support personnel could hear the machine gun rounds zing a few inches

over their heads and slap into the soft underside of the suspended

helicopter. Not all the bullets and shell fragments passed overhead; on

881S, the defenders were operating with their fourth HST when the siege

ended.

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, the Gaggle was not

without its lighter episodes. In one instance, an HST man attached

to I/3/26 hooked up an outgoing load and gave the pilot the "thumbs

up" when he discovered that he had become entangled in the pile of

nets. The CH-46 surged into the air with the startled Marine dangling

helplessly from the bottom of the net by one foot. But for the quick

reaction of his comrade on the ground who informed the pilot by radio

that the chopper had taken on more than the prescribed load, the young

cargo handler would have had a rather interesting trip to Dong Ha. The

CH-46 crews also provided a human touch during these missions. When the

Sea Knights swept over the hills, it was not uncommon to see a machine

gunner on board quit his weapon for a second, nonchalantly pitch a case

of soda pop out the hatch, and then quickly return to blaze away at the

enemy positions. At 1st MAW Headquarters, Lieutenant Colonel Carey, who

had been an infantryman in Korea before he went to flight school and

who sympathized with the men on the outposts, felt that a small gesture

acknowledging their continued outstanding performance was in order.

Special efforts were made to obtain quantities of dry ice for packing

and one day, without notice, hundreds of Dixie-cups of ice cream were

delivered to the men on the hills as part of the regular resupply. This

effort was dubbed Operation COOL IT. The only hitch developed on 881S

where the Marines, unaware of the contents, allowed the cargo to remain

in the LZ until after dark when it was safe to venture out of the

trenchline. The ice cream was a little sloppy but edible and greatly

appreciated.

The introduction of the Super Gaggle was a turning point in the

resupply effort. Prior to its conception, the Marines on the outposts

dreaded the thought of leaving their positions to retrieve cargo--even

when it included mail--because of the heavy shelling. With a dozen

Skyhawks pasting the surrounding hills during each mission, this

threat was alleviated to a large degree and casualties tapered off.

The Company I, 3/26, commander later stated: "If it weren't for the

Gaggle, most of us probably wouldn't be here today." The helicopter

pilots, knowing that their jet jockey compatriots were close at hand,

were also able to do their job more effectively. In the past, the

transport crew chiefs occasionally had to jettison their external load

prematurely when the pilot took evasive action to avoid ground fire.

When this occurred, the cargo nets usually slammed into the perimeter

and splattered containers all over the hilltop.[44](131) With the Super

Gaggle, the pilots had less enemy fire to contend with and did not bomb

the hills with the cargo pallets as much; as a result more supplies

arrived intact. In addition, the system greatly facilitated the picking

up of wounded personnel.[45]

The Marine helicopters continued their flights to and from Khe Sanh

throughout the siege. In spite of the obstacles, the chopper pilots

crammed enough sorties into those days with flyable weather to haul

465 tons of supplies to the base during February. When the weather

later cleared, this amount was increased to approximately 40 tons a

day. While supporting Operation SCOTLAND, MAG-36 and MAG-16 flew 9,109

sorties, transported 14,562 passengers, and delivered 4,661 tons of

cargo.(132)

Colonel Lownds was more than satisfied with the airborne pipeline

which kept his cupboard full and he had quite a cupboard. The daily

requirement for the 26th Marines to maintain normal operations had

jumped from 60 tons in mid-January to roughly 185 tons when all five

battalions were in place. While the defenders didn't live high off

the hog on this amount, at no time were they desperately lacking the

essentials for combat. There were periods on the hills when the Marines

either stretched their rations and water or went without, but they

never ran short of ammunition. Understandably, ammunition had the

highest priority--even higher than food and water. A man might not be

able to eat a hand grenade but neither could he defend himself very

effectively with a can of fruit cocktail. This did not mean that the

men of the 26th Marines went hungry. On the average, the troops at the

base received two C-Ration meals a day and this fare was occasionally

supplemented with juice, pastry, hot soup, or fresh fruit. The men on

the hills subsisted almost entirely on C-Rations and the time between

meals varied, depending on the weather. Within the compound, water was

rationed only when the pump was out of commission and that was a rare

occurrence. Lieutenant Colonel Heath's position on Hill 558 was flanked

by two streams so 2/26 was well supplied but the Marines on the other

four outposts depended on helilifts for water; it was used sparingly

for drinking and cooking.[46](133) Besides the essentials, the 26th

Marines also required tons of other supplies such as fortification

material, fuel, tires, barbed wire, and spare parts--to name a few.

PX items were on the bottom of the bottom of the priority totem pole

because, as Colonel Lownds remarked: "If you have to, you can live

without those." On the other hand, mail had a priority second only to

ammunition and rations. The men at Khe Sanh received over 43 tons of

mail during the worst month of the siege.(134)

[Illustration: A CH-46 helicopter of Marine Aircraft Group-36 evacuates

wounded from Hill 861A (Photo courtesy David D. Duncan)]

[Illustration: U. S. Navy doctors and corpsmen, wearing helmets and

flak jackets, treat wounded at Charlie Med aid station. (Photo courtesy

David D. Duncan)]

One portion of the airlift which affected morale as much as the arrival

of mail was the swift departure of casualties. A man's efficiency was

greatly improved by the knowledge that, if he were hit, he could

expect immediate medical attention and when necessary, a speedy

evacuation.[47] Those with minor wounds were usually treated at the

various battalion aid stations and returned to duty; the more seriously

injured were taken to Company C, 3d Medical Battalion. Charley Med,

as this detachment was called, was located just south of and adjacent

to the aircraft loading ramp. There, U. S. Navy doctors and corpsmen

treated the walking wounded, performed surgery, and prepared the

litter cases for medevac. From Charley Med, it was a short, but

often nerve-racking trip to a waiting aircraft and a hospital at

Phu Bai. During the siege, the courageous men of Charley Med, often

working under heavy enemy fire, treated and evacuated 852 wounded

personnel.(135)

Thus the Marine and U. S. Air Force transport pilots, helicopter crews,

loadmasters, and ground personnel kept open the giant umbilical cord

which meant life for the combat base. Without their efforts, the story

of Khe Sanh would undoubtedly have been an abbreviated edition with

a not-too-happy ending. On the other hand, accounts of the heroism,

ingenuity, and skill demonstrated by these men would fill a book. But

there were other things besides manna falling from the heavens at Khe

Sanh and the vital role of the transports was frequently eclipsed by

the efforts of air crews who carried a much deadlier cargo.(136)

FOOTNOTES:

[25] One Marine, Corporal Robert J. Arrota, using a PRC-41 UHF radio

which put him in direct contact with the attack pilots, personally

controlled over 200 air strikes without the aid of a Tactical Air

Controller (Airborne); his peers gave him the title of "The Mightiest

Corporal In The World."

[26] Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell, whose battalion held the rock quarry

perimeter, later commented that his troops patrolled out to 1,200

meters. The units at the base never went that far until the siege was

lifted.

[27] The men of Company I used the same methods to cool the mortar

tubes that they used during the attack against 861 on 21 January.

[28] The defenders later reported knocking out at least one and

probably two tanks with rocket launchers.

[29] The 26th Marines FSCC had prepared extensive defensive fire plans

for the Lang Vei Camp. In the early stages of the attack, the camp

commander did not request artillery and later asked for only a few

concentrations. He never asked for the entire schedule to be put into

effect.

[30] Documents taken off a dead NVA officer later in the battle

indicated that the enemy hoped that the attack on Lang Vei would draw

the Marines out of Khe Sanh so he could destroy the relief column.

[31] In November 1967, Lieutenant Colonel Wilkinson, on direction

of the regimental commander, had sent a rifle company to determine

possible direct routes through the jungle. The company commander,

Captain John N. Raymond, reported that his unit, avoiding well-used

trails to preclude ambush, had made the trip in about 19 hours.

[32] On the return trip to the KSCB, Captain Richards flew over the

outskirts of Khe Sanh Village. A NVA soldier suddenly stepped out of

one hut and sprayed the low-flying chopper with a burst from his AK-47

assault rifle. The rounds ripped out part of Richards' instrument panel

and one bullet zinged about two inches in front of his nose before

passing through the top of the cockpit. A Marine gunner on the CH-46

quickly cut down the North Vietnamese but the damage had already been

done. Even though he was shaken by the experience, the pilot nursed his

crippled bird back to the base and landed safely. Once on the ground,

he quickly switched helicopters and returned to Lang Vei for another

evacuation mission. For his actions during the day, Captain Richards

was later awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.

[33] The weather during February was bad for operations but not

particularly uncomfortable. The mean temperature was 71 degrees, the

average humidity was 92 percent, and an average weekly rainfall was

.04 inches. The wind was out of the east with an average velocity of 6

miles per hour.

[34] Organizationally, the USAF C-130s belonged to the 315th Air

Division but that unit did not operate in Vietnam. Five to seven

aircraft from each of the 315th's squadrons were on temporary duty

in Vietnam and were under the operational control of the 834th

Air Division. The 315th Air Commando Wing and its C-123s were

organizationally part of the 834th.

[35] One NVA gun crew came in too close for its own good. The 1/26

commander, Lieutenant Colonel Wilkinson, dispatched a platoon from

Company D to attack this position which was off the northeastern end

of the airstrip. While the 81mm mortars of 1/26 provided support, the

platoon commander, Second Lieutenant Daniel L. McGravey, and his men

aggressively assaulted the position. During a brisk fire fight, they

killed several North Vietnamese, captured the antiaircraft weapon, and

took the gunner prisoner.

[36] If a pilot made his approach from the west, which was not often

the case, he had to taxi all the way back down the runway to the

loading ramp.

[37] V-ring is a term used on the rifle range to describe the

bull's-eye of a target.

[38] Disparities in official records make it difficult to determine

the exact tonnage delivered to Khe Sanh by air. The USAF Historical

Division Liaison Office states that, of the 14,356 tons delivered

during the siege, Air Force planes were responsible for 12,430 tons

(8,120 tons by paradrop, LAPES and GPES; 4,310 by aircraft landing

at the field). On the other hand, 1st Marine Aircraft Wing records

show that Marine helicopters alone carried 4,661 tons of cargo. About

three-fourths of the helicopter tonnage, however, was lifted directly

from Dong Ha to the hill outposts and thus did not pass through the

main base at Khe Sanh. Neither total includes the contributions made by

Marine Aerial Refueler Transport Squadron 152; the records of that unit

only indicate the tonnage transported throughout the whole of I Corps

and do not break it down to the amount delivered to individual bases

such as Khe Sanh.

[39] This resulted in another fiery crash on 6 March when a C-123 was

shot down while on approach to the field and all aboard (43 USMC, 1

USN, and 4 USAF) were killed.

[40] Having the ambulatory cases serve as stretcher bearers was

standard operating procedure on 881S. These men stayed on the chopper

and did not have to make the return trip to their trenches under fire.

When uninjured Marines served in this capacity there was the added

danger that the helicopter would take off before they could debark and

they would end up at Khe Sanh. In one instance after the siege was

lifted, Captain Dabney spent a day at the combat base because he did

not get off a medevac chopper fast enough.

[41] During the course of the battle, 881S became a small graveyard

for helicopters; at least five were downed on or around the hill.

Consequently, Company I gained a reputation among chopper crews which

lasted long after the siege was over. When the 3d Battalion later

departed Khe Sanh, Company I eventually moved to Hill 55 near Da Nang.

One afternoon, while evacuating a wounded Marine, a CH-46 developed

engine trouble and the pilot decided to shut down for repairs. Another

flight was sent to pick up the wounded man and as the lead pilot

approached he came up over the radio and asked his wingman where the

landing zone was. The wingman replied: "Just look for the downed

chopper, India _[_Company I_]_ always marks their zones that way."

[42] For comparison as many as 16 helicopters were utilized up to four

times in one day during the Super Gaggle without a loss. Prior to the

conception of this technique, as many as three choppers were shot down

in one day around Khe Sanh.

[43] There is an interesting possibility as to why the mortars in

the Horseshoe were never silenced. Fourteen years earlier, at Dien

Bien Phu, the North Vietnamese used an ingenious method to protect

their heavier siege mortars from air attacks and they may well have

repeated it at Khe Sanh. The mortar crews selected a site on the slope

of a hill, figured the elevation and deflection necessary to hit one

specific target, and then dug a small tunnel at that precise angle into

the side of the hill. The mortar was emplaced at the bottom of the

tunnel with connecting caves which housed the gunners. When fired, the

mortar rounds traveled up the shaft, sometimes as far as 50 feet before

reaching the surface. The foliage was cleared away from the mouth of

the tunnel so that the rounds did not hit the overhanging branches and

detonate prematurely. Mortars emplaced in this manner were, of course,

limited to only one target and, as far as the gunners in the Horseshoe

were concerned, that target was 881S. When the siege was later broken

and Marine units began to maneuver in the terrain surrounding the hill

mass, they were never taken under fire by the 120mm mortars even though

they did receive fire from smaller caliber weapons. Hill 881S, however,

continued to be hit periodically by the 120mms.

[44] Of all the jettisoned loads, those containing water were the most

spectacular. On one occasion, a CH-46 carrying plastic containers of

water was forced to release the net about 200 feet above the ground.

The containers broke open in midair and the contents cascaded on the

hill below. The Company E, 2/26, commander, Captain Breeding, later

recalled that it produced one of the prettiest waterfalls he'd ever

seen.

[45] It is no exaggeration to say that MAG-36 helicopters played a

decisive role in the battle. The maintenance of the hill outposts was

imperative if Khe Sanh was to be held, and these units depended on the

helicopters for survival.

[46] During one period of extremely bad weather, the platoon from

A/1/26 which held positions on Hill 950 went without resupply for nine

days and the water shortage became a major problem. Lieutenant Colonel

Wilkinson authorized the platoon commander, Second Lieutenant Maxie

R. Williams, to send a squad out to a small stream which was about

two hours march from the perimeter. In addition to finding water, the

Marines surprised a group of North Vietnamese and killed nine of the

enemy. One Marine was also killed.

[47] Bad weather occasionally precluded the immediate evacuation of

casualties from the hill outposts.

The Battle for Khe Sanh · 第 5 / 9 章