I REMEMBER
This is Mike's synopsis of the life of a Centaurs Slick crew in 1967-1968 with emphasis on the LRRP (Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol) mission.
Date: Late 1967 thru 1968
Crew: Aircraft Commander (AC) WO Mike Siegel, various Pilots, various Crew Chiefs and Door Gunners.
I was in D troop from 9/67 to 9/68. I had been in a car accident after flight school (class 67-7, graduated in June of '67) and I came to the unit as a rusty FNG. I flew as as a copilot with Joe Bridges who was more than patient with me. I became an Aircraft commander in either Dec. 67 or Jan 68 and my call sign was Centaur 36. As a slick driver, most of my missions were 'single ship.' I was often flying "Ash and Trash", like driving a cab or bus or truck - taking people and supplies from one place to another. Honorable work, but pretty mundane. But sometimes we worked as an ambulance and sometimes we worked with the LRRP's. Those were the times that make the stories.
I somehow was selected to do most of the insertions/extractions of our LRRP unit. Usually the insertions were "cold" and uneventful, occasionally not. The extractions were more exciting. The LRRP units were typically tasked to be on the ground for 4-6 days (as I remember). If we got a call sooner than that, we knew it probably wasn't going to be fun. When a hot LZ was anticipated, I was usually assisted by a gun team (sometimes 2 teams) and was under the direction of a C & C ship. On occasion, we would also have an Air Force fighter team. I remember once having the AF 20 mm Gatling guns suppressing the area, along with our gun team(s) doing the rocket and mini-gun thing. It was loud.
The bad guys liked to let us get loaded and then come out of the woods and shoot us in our (aircraft) belly as we took off. We all knew this would happen, so when I would announce on the radio (in my soprano voice) that I was pulling pitch and heading out on such and such direction, our guys would try to place a rocket right where I had been on the ground. I remember getting a couple of little hits from friendly shrapnel. When I think back and remember that the gun drivers had, at best, a grease pencil mark on the windshield as a sighting device, and that they were essentially shooting at me (knowing that I'd be gone before the rocket hit) I think I can define "trust."
If anyone can fill in the blanks I'd sure appreciate it.
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