Start of the Morning

The helicopter was flying through the valley in the cool Korean morning air like it was on a roller coaster track. Thirteen of us inside strapped to the red webbed nylon seats thinking about what's ahead - our mission's patrol order and rehearsals behind us. The seatbelts being pulled by our body weight forward and sideways. There's good people on this team. People I want to go to the real fight with. This was where it was going to count after all these months of training together. F***!, I never knew a helicopter this big could fly like this! (Convoy escorts were pretty docile at my previous assignment. And the helos were smaller.)


I looked back towards some of the squad. Some had their eyes closed, some were looking down at the floor, some saw me look back at them and grinned, nodded or winked. The sunlight coming through the windows into the cabin as we were twisting and turning made shadows long and short, and left and right on the cabin interior. All I could see through the window opposite of me were trees and mountains going by at a blur. Occasionally I saw flashes of the blue sky and the ground. I turned my attention to the floor of the cabin.


The door gunner shouted something, looked to us and flashed a "five" to our team leader and said something over intercom. Our TL was the only one connected to comm with the flight crew and wearing the Dave Clarks. He acknowledged the gunner, then nudged the assistant TL to pass the word on. The message went down to all of us on each side of the aircraft. Five minutes approaching the LZ. Those with their eyes closed opened them and started to check their gear with the rest of us. Weapons were ready and hooked to our beaners. Everyone was mentally rehearsing what they were going to do to secure the LZ and after. There wouldn't be any talk from here on - not that we were talking anyways.


Finally the helicopter slowed and flared noticeably, I could feel the lateral G's and then my stomach up in my throat. Then we leveled out. Bump, bump. We were on the ground. The ramp dropped and daylight filled the cabin. Go! go! go! go! go! We filed out fast - six down one side and seven out the other and ran out over noise and under the rotor wash to our positions. The faint sound through my ear plugs of the door gunners putting rounds into the tree line and mountain side sporadically. I ran my measured steps away from the helicopter and then dropped to my knees to a prone. The weeds were tall, so I had to prop myself up just enough to look out. Just enough only. I want to keep my head. No movement. Then, more powerful rotor wash and crap flying all around as the helicopter lifted off and fast moved out of the LZ. And then it was quiet. Real quiet. That was cue to take out my foam ear plugs. I could hear the breeze and feel it. I could hear the grass moving and feel it.


The rocky hillside about a hundred meters in front of me didn't give me warm thoughts. Neither did the rocky hillside behind me. The ultimate ambush position. And we were the ambushees.
Thankfully, this was only part of a scenario in a major JCS exercise.


Thinking about that day while I sit here in my warm home sipping my caffeine fix gives me an appreciation of many things.