11 minute read
Enforcing the Tet Cease Fire of ‘71
By LCDR Tom Phillips, USN (Ret.)
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It is Tet, 1971, the Vietnamese New Year. There is a cease fire in effect, what with the holiday and all, just like the one in Tet of ‘68, the bloodiest "cease fire" in the history of warfare as far as I know. Since Tet of ‘68, the U.S. military has been very active during the cease fires which followed, patrolling aggressively, and on alert. But the VC and NVA had learned their lesson in ‘68. Despite the completely incorrect assessment of the press back home, the VC were decimated on the battlefield during Tet of ‘68 and never really recovered as a stand-up fighting force. We didn’t realize that at the time, however. We did remember Tet, and how a hand full of Seawolves and SEALS and Navy River Rats had been credited with "saving" the Mekong Delta and routing the VC there.
Not without loss. Every Seawolf knew about the two Det Six birds at Dong Tam which had been wiped out trying to scramble for base defense during a VC assault; how they had both been shot down by mortar fire trying to make that "Nantucket Sleigh Ride" down the runway with a full load of fuel and ammo.
Cease fire or no cease fire, we were patrolling and loaded for bear. We were running a daylight sweep of the Cambodian border up in the Plain of Reeds. Pretty open country, largely drowned meadows, with little clumps of bushes and trees at seemingly random spots. Uninhabited. There were rice farmers trying to make a go of it along the major canals farther to the south, the ones which were regularly patrolled by riverine boats. But nobody up here on the border.
I’m lead ship copilot for LTJG Mitch Brown who is working me out at navigating the wilds of the border. It’s an all-jaygee (all Naval Academy) fire team, with Skip Soper and Steve Hanvey in the trail bird. The navigating is getting tough because Mitch is flying at about 20 feet and 90 knots, staying low, going around the clumps of trees instead of over them. Skip is covering at the same altitude and about three hundred yards astern, weaving to cover us as we slalom through the trees. This is not flat hatting for the fun of it, although it’s a kick. At this altitude, amongst the trees and bushes, flying into the wind as we are doing, we can sneak up on folks. That’s right, I said sneak up on them. Proven fact. I had seen many a farmer looking the other way when we jumped a tree line and roared past them. And new as I was, I had already seen VC greased off a too-long paddy dike in a too-open paddy they had the misfortune to be crossing when we snuck up on them. We flew low level into the wind by design. Between the wind and the muffling effect of the trees, it was hard to hear the helicopters coming. When the noise did build up, the rebounding of the sudden noise off the surrounding trees, made quick determination of direction difficult to do. It was common to burst over a tree line and catch farmers, friendly patrols, and hostile VC looking the wrong way and frozen in their tracks like deer in headlights.
We dead reckon navigated between easily recognizable landmarks at low level. When the land was really trackless, we would pop up together now and then to get bearings on more distant landmarks, and then drop back down to the deck, where it was safe. Sometimes, only the lead would stay low and the trail would fly an offset at safe altitude, guiding him along from place to place conducting recon by fire. The area was usually a free fire zone. If friendlies were patrolling, we would have their op area charted and be a little prudent in what we shot up. Could usually get them on radio as we worked their area. They would be quick to let us know their posit when we were prowling, both to prevent us from shooting them by mistake and to make it easier for us to scramble to their support when they got into a fire fight. In a free fire zone, anyone else out there was not friendly. See someone? Shoot them.
But not today. Today was Tet. No free fire zone. We had patrolled out from the YRBM at altitude several klicks south of the border to a good downwind position for a run up the canal ditch which marked the border. Because it was SOP never to follow a landmark like a canal for long, Skip was high cover and was vectoring us out from the canal and back again at intervals. (If you flew along roads, canals, etc regularly, somebody was going to set up shop with a .50-cal trap or some other unpleasantness and bag you). It happened to the army birds regularly.
"Something up ahead Nine-four, come right for the trees at your one-thirty. Looks like people beyond the trees at the canal" called Skip, who was Seawolf Nine-Three, Mitch being Nine-four, and yours truly being Nine-eight, a number I hoped to get to use on the radio some day, when I made AHAC, and later FTL (Attack Helicopter Aircraft Commander, Fire Team Leader, respectively).
"O.K. troops, look alive." said Mitch needlessly. We had been weapons hot since we lifted off, and nobody doped off running low level even during a cease fire. Not when a target might appear in seconds and the faster gun would win. We were usually the faster guns. I stowed the map and unlimbered the flex mini-gun sight. It looked like a dentist’s swing arm drill with a black box housing an infinity sight reticle at the drill end, a pistol grip on the bottom of the box and trigger and dead man switch on the pistol grip. Mitch and I looked
ahead, while the gunners swung their guns forward from their seats in the doors. If somebody opened up on us from right ahead, we could reply with 4,000 rounds per minute of my pylon mounted (two settings: 2000 and 4000 selectable, usually used 2000), remotely-fired flex-gun, 4,000 rounds per minute of the starboard door gunner’s door mounted handfired and aimed flex-mini-gun, and 600 rounds per minute of the left door gunner’s M-60 for insult. 8,600 rounds per minute of suppression against three simultaneous targets, not to mention Skips’ support fire. The trees were coming up fast, and Mitch swept past them to the left, rolling right in a thirty degree bank, leveling out at Skip’s call.
"Remember, we’re weapons tight unless fired upon." warned Mitch. We couldn’t shoot because of the cease fire.
Suddenly ahead of us was a group of NVA, lots of them. They were the deer in the headlights. We flew over them holding fire. They did not fire either. Mitch quickly put the nearest patch of brush and trees between us and them before they had a chance to change their minds, like a grouse being flushed from the Mountain Laurel back in Virginia. WE weren’t gonna hang around down there waiting for them to open up. He extended and climbed out beyond effective small arms range, about 800 yards beyond them.
Skip had rolled in, positioned to shoot, as Mitch cleared the first patch of trees and broke off when we zipped around the second one.
"Coming left" called Mitch as we started our climb, and Skip swooped into trail as we circled the NVA. The ones on the Vietnam side, about 20, had dropped their weapons and were standing still. The ones on the Cambodian side, about 30, were running for cover in the brush, and the ones in the canal, about 10, were climbing up the Cambodian side as fast as their little sandals would take them. We were not allowed to shoot into Cambodia without prior permission.
Skip was already on the radio, calling the Province Senior Advisor, an American officer assigned as the liaison with the Province Chief, a Vietnamese, who could clear us to fire. "Dragon Romeo, this is Seawolf Nine-three, we’ve got 60 NVA crossing the Rach Co Co from Cambodia into Vietnam at coordinates Whiskey Tango six two three one four one. Request immediate weapons free, they’re getting away, over!" "Ah, Seawolf Nine-three, this is Dragon Romeo, negative, we have a cease fire, or haven’t you heard, over." "Dragon Romeo, they are the ones violating the cease fire! Right now! They’re armed, carrying supplies, and crossing the border into Vietnam from the Cambodia side at this time. We’ve caught them with their pants down! Request immediate weapons free, over!"
"Negative, Seawolves. You can NOT fire unless fired upon, do you copy, Over?" "No fire unless fired upon, Roger, Out." Skip switched to the Det tactical freq. "Jesus! Hear that Nine-four?"
"Yeah, copy." replied Mitch. "What do ya want to do?" "Let’s grease’em all, Mr. B" interjected one of the gunners. "Right on!" added the other. My feelings exactly, I thought. "Well we better do something soon, Nine-four, they’re getting away. Look at those (carnal relations with female parent) scurry for the brush! "Any chance they’ll go brain dead and take a shot at us? "Not without provocation," said Skip. "I think I’ll give them some. Cover me." We turned in and dove for the deck turning to run up the canal between the banks, headed right at the last of the NVA frantically splashing across the canal by now. I looked over at Mitch, wondering if this was the thing to do. He had been hammering me with the philosophy that we did not indulge in fair fights except as a last resort. "Do NOT, repeat, do NOT fire unless fired upon." Mitch said to us as we swooped down building speed. Mitch buzzed them so low they submerged in the canal to keep from being hit by the skids. "Yeeee Hah! Look at those (male offspring of unmarried parents) run!" yelled a gunner. But no one shot at us. We were disappointed. (Later we decided we weren’t all THAT disappointed. If they had opened up, we could have been in a dicey situation, although those NVA would have been fools indeed had they opened fire on a light attack helicopter fire team in broad daylight in such open country. Even if they had knocked us down, Skip, from his covering perch at 1000 feet, would have slaughtered them. Only in the movies do trained aerial gunners miss targets out in the open in broad daylight. The only survivors would have been those who crawled in some hole under the brush and pulled the earth in behind them before the shooting had started.)
"They didn’t go for it, Nine-three. What now?"There were enough of them deep in the brush by now for us to be unsure of a clean sweep, so we didn’t have to think all that hard about the advisability of greasing them all and claiming they had opened up on us.
"RTB, Nine-four. Even if we can get cleared hot, it’ll be too late. They’re almost gone as it is." Now there was an ethical dilemma. They were breaking the cease fire. They would surely cross back into Vietnam as soon as the sun set or maybe at a later date. We would probably have to face them again some day under conditions more of their choosing. I know it crossed my mind, and it occurred to Mitch as well, for we talked about it later after the patrol. We understood that we did not have the official authority to take the law into our own hands and punish them for violating the cease fire. Did we have the moral authority to grease them now and seek forgiveness later, when we knew we could not get permission before they got away? It was reasonable to believe that further insistence would have caused the request to fire to get high enough for someone to give permission. Could we rationalize that? Would the very senior officer in the chain of command who would give us permission condone our presumption of his permission, or would he crucify us?
We concluded that, should such a golden opportunity ever arise again, we would take prompt action and blow those guys away. But none of us would see another cease fire while we were there. I wonder if we could have done it, for we were loaded down with ideals, and a sense of ethics and fair play which would get in the way on other occasions too. Oh well, I can sleep without remorse, not having broken "the rules", but I’ll always wonder who later may have died and need not have, because we were too honorable to play by their rules that day.
We turned for home, and climbed out into the setting sun, already planning to return as soon as we could refuel and get clearance to fire should we catch them again. Strangely, there was no sign of them anywhere when we returned.
NHA Retired/Former Events and Reunions
Check the NHA website www.navalhelicopterassn.org for the most current information on anniversaries and reunions or contact retiredreunionmgr@navalhelicopterassn.org
2021 Naval Helicopter Anniversaries Source, original research done by CAPT Tom Ford, USN (Ret.)
HS-1-70th Year-Date-1951
HS-5/HSC-5 65th Year-Date 1956
HS-6-HSC-6-65th Year-Date-1956 HM-12 50th Year-Date 1971
HAL-4/HCS-4/HSC-84 40th Year-Date 1976
HM-18 35th Year-Date 1976
HS-8/HSC-8 65th Year-Date 1956 HSL-44/HSM-74 35th Year –Date 1976
HS-9 65th Year-Date 1956
HS-15/HSC-15 50th Year-Date 1971 HSL-45/HSM-75 35th Year-Date 1986
HSL-51/HSM-51 30th Year-Date 1990
