My first duty assignment after flight school was with the 101st Airborne Division at Ft Campbell, Ky. As a UH-1H pilot, I was assigned Alpha Company 6th Battalion of the 101st Aviation Regiment. Apparently, I was lucky not to be assigned to B Company....they were derogatorily entitled the Cincinnati Flying Club by my company commander, for reasons that would become apparent later.
No sooner than I had arrived there, we received orders to deploy to Honduras for 4 months, in support of Joint Task Force Bravo. JTF-B was a continuous nation building exercise performing such tasks as building roads, schools, providing medical and dental aid, and assisting the Honduran government where needed. The day I boarded the C-5 transport, the Loma Prieta earthquake struck San Francisco.
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Helicopters were already placed there for us, and we took over control of them from the previous unit, which was rotating home. After some local area orientation, we were mission ready and began operations. A typical mission would be to pick up some dentists from the national guard, fly them to some remote village, and watch them pull bad teeth all day. Sometimes we would haul people in civilian clothes, with heavy duffel bags, to locations very near the Nicaraguan border, doing what, we didn't ask. However, my favorite op was called the Batman flight. You would take off at sunset and fly circles around the Soto Cano Airfield, all night, with loaded door guns, patrolling for some rare and elusive rebel force which had maybe once, a long time ago, lobbed a mortar at the airfield. We were more likely to see an Ocelot than these rebels.
CW3 Steve Timmons and SGT Lance Newby (There will be an entire post about him later, lol) nearly shot me through the foot one night, before one of those patrols. Somehow Sgt Newby had jammed the gun while loading it, and Steve walked over to show him how to unjam it. The weapon was stowed on the door gun mount, its barrel pointing straight down. All three of us were gathered around the weapon, with both Steve and Newby jacking on the charging handle. I noticed the barrel was pointed right at my foot. A voice told me to take a step back (probably my dad's, courtesy of his excessive weapons safety lectures) I no sooner took a step back then BAM!! Steve had released the charging handle. Note: the weapon fires from the open bolt position and allowing it to run forward, allows it to fire. A nice clean hole, 7.62mm in diameter, appeared in the steel landing deck, where my foot had been 1 second earlier. 5 minutes later, breathless MP's had us all face down on the decking.
Another, less known mission, was in support of the US Embassy in San Salvador, El Salvador. The flights to and from El Sal were considered combat flights, due to the US taking sides with the Salvadoran government, in their battle with rebel forces. We flew at high altitude to avoid the small arms threat posed by the rebels. (Apparently not high enough because our aircraft took a 5.56mm round right through the cabin, missing the main fuel valve by an inch). El Salvador is one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen. Massive conical volcanoes dotting the coastline, beautiful sandy beaches defending against shark infested waters.
San Salvador's primary airport is named Ilopango, after the dormant volcano in whose caldera it resides. Most of the caldera is occupied by a large and beautiful blue lake. Upon landing there, our crews were whisked away to the safe house where we resided during our time there. A ride through any third would country in a minivan is exactly what you would expect. Think NASCAR, but slower, and with bullet proof glass. Trading paint is normal, and nobody stops to exchange insurance information.
The safe house was a very nice hacienda. A small pool sat outside, several large palm trees arranged around it. The most important element of the safe house was the large and defensible wall ringing the entire complex. Anytime a threat was detected everyone would run to the wall with their weapons (Shotguns, M-16's, M-60's, grenades...etc) and prepare to fight off an attack. It never came, but several car bombs were detonated by rebels in front of nearby businesses. The house was incredibly stuffy, and it always seemed much cooler outside. After another false alarm, with everyone running to the wall, a decision was made to sleep outside by the pool. No white light was allowed outside so everyone used flashlights, with tactical red lenses covering the bulb. One enterprising crew chief erected a hammock between two of the palm trees, next to the pool. Everyone else slept on the ground.
Late in the middle of the night, with everyone asleep, a blood curdling scream pierced the night air. Instantly alert, everyone jumped to their feet, weapons charged. Red flash lights out, we discover the hammock mounted crew chief clamping his hand to his neck, blood and goo running down between his fingers. As we peeled his hand off his jugular, we discovered a Tarantula, about the size of a dinner plate, squashed onto his neck. Apparently the spider decided the hammock was a nice transition from the palm tree, to a warm place to sleep. After uproarious laughter, I eased away from the crowd, shook out my sleeping bag, rolled it up and went inside.No way would I EVER, sleep out there again.
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