Tomorrow is Another Day Ch. 02

"Frank! I've got the aircraft. Grab your wiz wheel (sort of like a circular slide rule used by pilots for decades to navigate by dead reckoning) and see if you can calculate our ground speed, fuel consumption and ETA (Estimated time of Arrival) to Danang."

"I'll give it my best shot." The pilot replied, fumbling through his flight bag for the desired item. A couple of minutes later he responded.

"Rick, I can't really get enough of a fix on anything to be remotely accurate...a sextant would be nice since its clear as a fucking bell up here...if I knew how to use it. We took off to the North with a ten to fifteen knot headwind. I punched the clock when we went in the soup---maybe a mile north of the river? Based on our current fuel consumption and the fact that it will increase when we descend and based on what we left Quang Ngai with...and assuming an approximate ground speed of...something less than 80 knots? Maybe not even that at an airspeed that is remotely economical fuel-wise. Danang is about an hour, give or take...and we don't have an hour of fuel left...maybe forty-five or fifty minutes tops."

"Chu Lai?"

"Fifteen...twenty minutes more or less...but it's got no tower...no radar...an unreliable ADF for which we have no approach chart and it's well below minimums. I mean we can find it---or at least the ADF transmitter which is not actually on the runway but...I guess we could try calling an aircraft carrier on guard but they're probably a hell of a lot farther out over open water than I want to fly in a single engine aircraft."

"The tower at Danang is all Vietnamese personnel---can't even understand a word they say. What about approach control?"

"Can't say I've chatted with them; let me look up the freq. What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure but a third head in this game seems to make some sense."

"You're up on VHF."

"Give me your best WAG (wild assed guess) of our distance from Danang and the approximate radial based on the VOR (another instrument landing aid, more reliable than ADF but nor remotely as reliable as TACAN or Tactical Air Navigation with DME or Distance Measuring Equipment or anything in commercial or military use today)."

"You got it." The pilot said, rattling off the numbers.

"Take the aircraft."

"I've got the aircraft."

"You've got the aircraft."

"Danang approach control, Army helicopter 57789."

"Go ahead 789."

"We are an Army UH-1H approximately eighty nautical miles south of Danang on the 165 radial at four thousand feet, heading 350 squawking 5550, requesting assistance."

"Roger, Army 789; turn right to a heading 070 to confirm. Turn back now to a heading of 350. I have positive radar contact 82 miles south southeast of Danang. You will be first in line for a straight in GCA(Ground Controlled Approach using radar) runway 35 right. I have no other IFR traffic in your vicinity."

"We're low on fuel, Danang. Our estimate does not indicate that we have sufficient fuel to reach your facility."

"Are you declaring an emergency, Army 789?"

No pilot in his right mind ever declares an emergency unless he absolutely has to in view of the mountains of paperwork and the embarrassment.

"Not at this time but we'll keep you advised. Danang, have you got some time to spend with us? We need a little help here."

"You are my only aircraft...the only one I've had since I started my shift."

"Danang, do you have a precise fix on your screen of the Chu Lai air base?"

"Roger that."

"How precise?"

"Wait one; let me ask someone." A minute later the controller came back on the radio.

"Plus or minus three to five hundred feet in terms of land area but be advised I can't give you any reliable altitude data at that distance."

"Standby."

"Frank! How big is Chu Lai in your estimation?"

"There's 8,000 feet of runway plus overruns---two miles long give or take. Probably half a mile wide."

"So, 10,000 feet---double the margin of error to a thousand feet and we're still looking at 8,000 feet plus and then a 1,500 or so east to west. We're in a helicopter for Christ's sake! If he can put us over the airfield, vectors us---box us down---turn us on final somewhere between the runway and the taxiway...we'll have seven or eight thousand feet to find the ground. If we roll out on final at five hundred feet or less, slow it down to fifty knots or less...enough forward airspeed to keep it under control...ease it down at fifty feet per minute or less..."

"Worse case we slam into the runway without too much forward ground speed, hopefully with our skids aligned and a minimal sink rate and walk away from it?"

"If our altimeter is remotely accurate since the only barometric pressure reading we're going to get is Danang not Chu Lai. Best case we break out before we run into anything and hover back to our tie down area with no one the wiser?"

"It's as good as anything I can come up with. Sell it to Danang. By my calculations we're less than two minutes from needing to turn on that crosswind leg. For the record, our ground speed is not as good as I thought. It's Chu Lai or nowhere."

Rick briefed the young Air Force controller on their plan. He had anticipated an argument or a request to check with a supervisor. He got neither. It was agreed that all turns would be inside a five-hundred foot margin for error. The ADF needle was fluctuating plus or minus fifteen degrees and would be of little value in finding the runway centerline.

"Army 789, turn right to a heading of 090, begin descent." The helicopter was quickly back inside the cloud layer. Not long after, the next vector was received.

"789, I show you approaching the eastern edge of the airfield, turn right to a heading of 180 and descend to one thousand."

"Frank, your call but I'd rather have you on the instruments."

"Yeah, me too. Assuming we break out in some unusual attitude you're the more experienced Huey pilot. We're just past the halfway mark on downwind."

"Army 789, your base leg turn will commence in fifteen seconds...turn right to a heading of 270 degrees and continue your descent at your discretion."

"Level off at 500."

"Roger."

"Slow to fifty knots, Frank."

"Wilco."

"789, begin a standard rate right turn now to a heading of 350...on final approach heading, approximately 1,000 feet from the landing threshold...coming up on the landing threshold."

"Three hundred feet, Frank...slow it down a little more...thirty knots. I'm going to follow you on the controls; when you feel me take control, release---there may not be time for the normal transfer protocol."

"Roger that."

The seconds ticked away with no indication of where the ground was....but it was definitely down there somewhere.

"789, you appear to be near the runway midpoint and I...I no longer have radar contact."

"Altimeter says we're at 200 feet...maybe less...fuck." A few more seconds ticked by.

"Altimeter says...nothing...where the fuck is that runway?"

"I can't slow it down any more and keep it under control...it's starting to wobble on me."

Suddenly in the swirling mist a red and white structure, probably a power junction container of some sort which Rick recalled was between the runway and the taxiway loomed in the windshield less than seventy-five feet in front of them. He grabbed the controls and his pilot quickly removed his hands and feet.

"Got it! Shit!" Rick screamed, pulling the cyclic to the rear, flaring the aircraft and swinging the tail to his right. He felt the tail stinger scrape the ground. The aircraft came to a hover with the tips of its rotor over the roof of the low structure and the skid caps within ten feet of it.

"Clear me to the rear! I need to back up!"

"You're clear sir!"

After backing up he slowly hovered over to the taxiway and set the fifty foot aircraft down.

"Tell him...approach control... we're okay...down safely."

"My pleasure." Frank replied, making the requested radio call.

"Glad to be of service, Army 789. Have a nice evening."

"Shall we go get some gas and put this mother to bed or do you just want to sit here and enjoy the scenery?" Frank quipped.

"I'm just trying to rearranged the massive load in my pants for maximum comfort."

"I thought I smelled something." Frank replied. Another voice came on the intercom; it was the colonel.

"Hell, if you smell something it's probably me."

The other two members of the crew added their own bits of black humor. No one said anything as they refueled and repositioned next to the advisor compound. After they shut down and secured the aircraft, the colonel spoke first.

"Gentlemen, twenty-six years in this man's army, airborne, infantry, gung ho ranger and all that crap but that fucking scared the shit out of me."

"That's because you were riding in the back sir and there wasn't a damn thing you could do. I may fly these things but I'd never ride in one," Rick retorted.

"You're right...there wasn't a damn thing I could do." he paused. "Rick, Frank---was this as close to a near death experience as I think it was?"

"Yeah...it was. We're sure as hell not going to write it up---no harm, no foul---and will deny it if asked but...yeah... it was as close as I've ever come to...buying the farm. With all due respect, sir---damn you to hell for sucking me into the fucking Medivac...and damn me to hell for saying yes."

"I'll share in that...I didn't fight it...seemed like the right thing to do at the time." Frank said.

"Did you ever learn---train for something like this---back in flight school?"

"No, we were pretty much pulling it out of our ass as we went along. We thought about topping off in Quang Ngai but gross weight, declining weather, busted up ARVN soldiers and time dissuaded us from doing so. We'd already flown up that stretch of road and back down again once---just like we've done hundreds of times before. We thought we were one step ahead of the game...needed to have been two or three steps. We were damn lucky."

"Luck my ass! You got yourself into some shit and fought---or thought---your way out of it. I don't know about you gentlemen, but I need a drink."

"It's well after midnight. I think the bar is closed."

"It's my bar; it's open when I say it is."

"I knew there was something I liked about you colonel."

"At ease, young warrant officer."

"Yes, sir."

Edited by Techsan