Courage, Tears, and a Stinger Gunship

In which I relate a story.

I've had the good fortune to work with some excellent people over the years.  At one point in time, our little crew of people was exceptionally tight knit.  In my little world that consisted of work, driving to and from work, and my cat; I loved them.  It only lasted a few years before we all went our own ways.  I did my part to preserve it by actually turning down a promotion to stay with them.

In tight groups, bonds form, secrets get shared, emotions are sometimes not hidden. 

On a nondescript day, I was working out on the ramp with a person from that crew.  We were out in the maintenance van, and were supposed to be getting parts from a parts plane, or catching an aircraft, I don't recall.  But it was just me and him.

My partner started talking about things.  I'd known for a while that he had been in the Vietnam war, as an aircraft maintenance technician.  He'd related several light, funny things that they guys over there would do to let off steam on many occasions.  Good stuff.

Today, he was in a darker mood.  He'd been quiet and staring out the truck window, when the talking had suddenly started.

He'd been a maintenance crew chief in a unit that flew the AC-119K Stinger gunships.  Their primary job was patrolling the Ho Chi Min Trail, looking for supply trucks, armor, whatever enemy assets were on the road.  Lots of times though, they gave close fire support for American ground troops, and their small bases. 

He told me of their unit insignia, a simple red scorpion on a black field, the Stinger.  They could never wear those insignia patches when off the airfield.  The enemy had put a bounty on the patches and the men who wore them.  The Stingers were very effective.

Part of his job as he told it, was to fly along with the gunship on missions.  I don't know if he did that every time it flew, but on one particular time he did.  I have since read that the Stinger units were notoriously short handed often, and the members of the unit did many duties, cross training into gunner positions while still doing maintenance on the ground.

Night missions were the normal, and on the night he told me of, they had already been airborne when a call for help had come.  An American ground unit base was under heavy attack, and in danger of being overrun.  Their gunship immediately diverted and few to the area.  When they arrived, it was a grim scene that awaited them.

The gunship's strength was from heavy armament, all situated on one side of the aircraft, put into use by flying a banked circle around the target area.  A gunship could saturate an area with heavy fire.  But in order to use all this firepower, a little bit of separation between the friendlies and the foes makes things go better.

The base was overrun already, and the Vietcong were in fighting at close range with the American troops.

His gunship orbiting around the base, their radio operator was in communication with the base radioman.  Everyone on board had one ear listening to the exchange.

The ground radioman told how the base was compromised, most of the US troops were killed already, ammunition running out.  The choice for them was quickly becoming to fight to the death, or surrender to the mercy of the enemy. 

The gunship crew all exchanged a look at that point.  They all knew what being a captive of the enemy meant.  Torture, probable death.

The base commander came over the radio, and requested the gunship to attack.  The gunship fire control asked where to direct the fire.  The commander replied "everywhere".  The gunship asked for confirmation, the commander gave it. 

Without another seconds hesitation, the order was given to open up the guns.  In minutes, the gunship had let loose over 30,000 rounds, directly into the American base compound. 

They flew a few more laps around the base.  The sensor operator confirmed that nothing was moving anymore down there.

The gunship turned for home.

My friend had started crying towards the end of his story.  I put a hand on his shoulder, I told him it was all right.  Other than that I was quiet.  I didn't know what else to do.  So that's what I did.  I sat with him quietly, my hand on his shoulder.

Cheers.  For doing the things that must be done, and carrying it in your heart.