Combat Assault

Company A

227th Assault Helicopter Battalion

1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile)

COMBAT ASSAULT -
THE CAV'S THING
by Sp-4 Phil Manger

Reprinted from "The Air Cavalry Division", Volume 2, Number 1, spring 1969

The men of the 1st Battalion 12th Cavalry arose reluctantly to the gray half-light of a cloudy February dawn. As they deflated air mattresses and rolled up poncho liners, the Company D commander, Captain James W. Speed, moved among them, giving last-minute instructions to his platoon leaders.

Not that they needed them, but CPT Speed liked to be sure. The briefing last night had been short and to the point. "We're going to make a Charlie Alpha (combat assault) here," he had said, aiming the beam of his flashlight at a point on the map just north of the junction of the Song Be and Dong Nai rivers. The platoon leaders gathered in the dark tent had closed into a circle for a better look.

CPT Speed went on, "We'll be the assault company, and secure the LZ for Hard Steel which is coming in behind us. One platoon to the north, another to the south. The assault platoon will secure the small hilltop northeast of the LZ, and the mortar platoon and CP (command post) will be inside the circle."
"Who led the last CA?" he asked suddenly.
"We did sir," said a man with a drooping mustache.
"We" was one-six or the first platoon, led by First Lieutenant Todd Ruedisili. The three rifle platoons of Company D take turns as the point platoon on combat assaults.
"Okay, then. Two-six (the acting second platoon leader), you'll be leading the assault." "Two-six," a career soldier who is better known as Sergeant First Class Edward Anderson, nodded. "You'll move immediately to the hilltop and secure it. Three-six (third platoon leader) will take the north side of the perimeter, and one-six, who will run the PZ (Pick-up Zone) and come in on the last lift, will secure the south side of the perimeter."
CPT Speed continued, "It's a pretty good-sized LZ. It's bounded on the east by the Song Be and on the west by the jungle. We should easily be able to get ten ships into it. Any questions?"
There were no questions.
Now, as he walked among the men, conferring with a platoon leader here, exhorting a man to hurry it up there, he knew he had done everything he had to do.
After a hasty breakfast and a last-minute check of equipment, the company saddled up and began to move to its assigned position on the PZ, a sandy stretch of ground about 100 meters from its hastily-erected tent city on the east side of Bien Hoa perimeter.

For a brief instant a crimson sun winked through the clouds that hung over the still-burning lights of Long Binh a few miles to the south. Then the sun was gone and the sky reverted to a dark, ominous gray that held the promise of rain.

Quickly the company arranged itself in two broken lines stretching across the sands. At the head of the lines, Sergeant Maurice McLettie, leader of the point squad, arranged his men into two groups of three which would board the chopper from the right and left sides. It was only SGT McLettie's fifth combat assault, but already he had the mechanics of the CA down pat.

Forty meters behind SGT McLettie's men stood the platoon command post. Among those waiting in this group was Sergeant Carlton Walker, who, having extended his tour six months, had been on more combat assaults than anyone in the company. "The last time I counted, I was up to 158," he remarked, "and you know something? I had to argue to get an Air Medal." To new men in the company, apprehensive over making their first CA, SGT Walker's presence was reassuring. As artillery recon sergeant, he had gone in on either the first or second bird every time.

"It did get sticky a couple of times," he admits, "On the last CA I made, my bird got shot down, but we all got out okay."
Soon the lift ships appeared. There were 20 of them, snaking across the sky toward Long Binh. In a few minutes they reappeared, went into the final approach, and came in under the guidance of the black hat, (a ground guide from the 11th Aviation Group), the prop wash from their rotor blades sending a hurricane of sand into the faces of the infantrymen who ran for the choppers and scrambled aboard.

In less than 30 seconds, the lift ships were airborne again. It was 0800 as they lifted off the sands and into the dark, gray skies. SGT Walker leaned against the doorjamb of his assault ship, stoically smoking a cigarette.

It was Hotel Minus Twenty - 20 minutes to touchdown on the LZ.

The decision had been made by Major Donald Durr, the battalion S-3.

While the men of Company D were still standing on the PZ, waiting for the lift ships to come in, MAJ Durr was in the Charlie-Charlie (Command and Control Helicopter), orbiting 3,000 feet above the LZ.

The grunts waiting on the PZ could not know this. They couldn't know that there was so much more involved than merely climbing onto some Hueys and riding to an LZ. They couldn't visualize the hours of planning, the anxious phone calls, the detailed, meticulous preparations and plans, the careful coordination and the tired, heavy eyes of those who had stayed up all night planning it. They couldn't know that the number of company-sized units directly involved in the assaults would easily fill a brigade, that the cost of the equipment used and the ammo fired could easily provide all of them comfortable incomes for the rest of their lives.

A combat assault is a lot more than a helicopter ride. The Charlie-Alpha is the Cav; it is the essence of the First Team - the one single tactic at which the Cav is most proficient and which distinguishes the Cav from every other division in the world. Chicago Tribune correspondent Ridgely Hunt was not exaggerating when he described a Cav CA as "a highly developed and finely orchestrated work of art."

There are only two facets of the CA which the infantryman ever sees: the pickup and the assault. He also sees part of the artillery preparation from the air, but what he sees are puffs of smoke on the ground, not what went into putting those puffs of smoke there. And after two or three CA's, during which he usually feels an eager excitement, he learns to take the assault for granted. He doesn't know what is going on beyond the confines of his helicopter. Not that he needs to. His job is tough enough as it is.
Worrying about the details is the province of men like MAJ Durr, who was now awaiting word from the assault ships. When the crackling voice in his headset told him that the lift ships were ready to pick up the assault element, he looked at his watch and announced that it was Hotel Minus Twenty.

In the doorway of a chopper, the battalion artillery LNO (Liaison Officer), First Lieutenant Donald R. Rieck, looked down at the LZ and gave the word to begin the prep.

The message was relayed to Battery C, 7th Battalion, 8th Artillery in Bien Hoa where Specialist Four W.G. Martin yanked the lanyard on his 175mm gun. The cannon roared, recoiled, and 147 pounds of steel and explosive arched high into the dark skies on a trajectory toward the LZ, 18 kilometers to the northeast.

Martin's counterparts in Phouc Vinh did the same, and 1LT Rieck, riding in the Charlie-Charlie far above the impact zone, watched the explosion of the rounds. He radioed an adjustment, the information was again relayed, and glowing orange numbers flashed the corrections across the olive drab console of the fire direction control computer.

Back on the gun, Staff Sergeant Rafael Millet made the necessary adjustments, and again Martin yanked the lanyard. As the round landed, 1LT Rieck studied the cone of smoke from the explosion and decidced that it was good.

It was Hotel Minus Fifteen.

The assault ships lifted off the PZ amid clouds of churned sand. Over the high whine of the engines and the sharp reports made by the rotor blades slapping the air the men could hear the 175 firing the prep. They were watching the cannon, and almost failed to notice the four gun ships and two ARA ships which had joined the lift.

The flight leader, Captain Nick L. Johnson, guided his bird out of the PZ. The tin roofs and concertina wire of Bien Hoa dropped away, and he headed north over the dry, brown rice paddies to the Dong Nai River. There he turned right and headed east, the river, deep, dark and green, showing the way.

Far ahead he could see the tiny puffs of smoke dotting the meadow, which at this distance was still virtually indistinguishable from the surrounding jungle. Soon the line of choppers, already broken into two flights of 10, become staggered as every other lift ship pulled out to the right of the line.

When the countdown reached Hotel Minus Ten, the two ARA ships broke off the formation and headed straight for the LZ. The four gun ships remained with the lift ships, scurrying about like mother hens protecting their broods.

The lift ships crossed the confluence of the Song Be and Dong Nai Rivers, banked right, and then swung into a leisurely counterclockwise orbit over the rapids of the Dong Nai, a few miles east of the LZ.

Inside the choppers, the blank-faced men of Company D sat in silence. The screaming turbines and the explosive contact of the rotor blades with the air made conversation impossible. In the doorway of the second ship, SGT Walker still leaned against the doorway, smoking his cigarette. The fields, the forest and river 1,000 feet below didn't interest him.

It was Hotel Minus Five.

Far above the lift ships, 1LT Rieck watched the impact of the artillery rounds.

Finally he saw the rounds signaling the end of the artillery prep, then another. In another minute, he saw the third and final round, a smaller one fired from a 105mm howitzer battery on LZ Mosby which had joined the prep at Hotel Minus Fifteen and had contributed 201 rounds.

It was Hotel Minus One

The ARA pilots, orbiting nearby, saw it too. This was their signal, and now it was their turn. Leaning forward in a slant toward the ground, the ships dove at the LZ, firing 2.75 inch rockets as they went. About halfway down they pulled out of their dive, climbed again,a came back for a second pass.

It was Hotel Minus Forty-Five Seconds.

While the ARA ships peppered the LZ with rocket fire, the gun ships sprayed rocket and mini gun fire into the tree line and other likely enemy hiding places. Their mission was not to prep the LZ, but to protect the lift ships, and the best way to accomplish that mission is to make life miserable for anyone crazy enough to pop his head up to take a shot at them. Now they sent a rocket and a burst of mini gun fire into virtually every clump of bushes.

It was Hotel Minus Thirty Seconds.

The first flight of 10 lift ships was now on final approach. Swinging over the treetops, the choppers had tilted back slightly to slow airspeed, and had spread out. They had come out of their orbit at Hotel Minus Two, and had swung to the south for the approach. Now they approached the LZ, and CPT Johnson in the lead ship could see the grass of the meadow sliding forward to meet him. Ahead, the explosions from the rockets could easily be seen, and the blast of the explosions sounded uncomfortably close.

As he broke out over the LZ, CPT Johnson's door gunners started firing their M-60 machine guns in a continuous burst. In a second the firing was picked up by the door gunners of every other lift ship in the formation. SGT Walker, standing on the runners of the second bird, ignored the hot brass of the expended shells falling against his arm. The cigarette was gone, but the same stoic expression remained on his face as he prepared to jump down to the LZ.

It was Hotel Minus Fifteen Seconds.

Three thousand feet above SGT Walker, MAJ Durr glanced at his watch, his map, and then at the 10 helicopters which were almost where all the planning of the last 24 hours had dictated that they should be at 08:20 this morning. He called the flight leader on the radio and told him "okay," and went back to watching.

It was Hotel Minus Ten Seconds.

Company D assaulted into an inferno of noise. The combined sounds of the gun ships' rockets and mini guns, the ARA ships' rockets, and the assault ships' own M-60's gave the impression of a massive fire fight on the LZ. Yet the LZ was empty: not that it really made any difference in the manner of approach - every LZ which is not occupied by friendly troops is assaulted as if it were crawling with the enemy. As the men stood on the runners, watching the soft green of the meadow rising to meet them, the rockets, manganese and machine guns were still firing at a steady rate.

CPT Johnson, having reached the northern end of the clearing, expertly brought his ship to the ground, almost on top of the last rocket rounds. It was only when the first grunt leaped to the ground, jumping before the chopper was fully on the ground, that his own M-60s ceased their firing, and the other gunners in the line followed suit. Just about a second was all the first flight needed to discharge its passengers and lift off again. Leaning forward in order to gather airspeed, the ships snaked off the the north, gained altitude, and headed back to Bien Hoa.

The two platoons which had come in on the first flight now arranged themselves so as to provide some sort of security for the second flight. SFC Anderson, whose platoon had earlier been given the mission of occupying the high ground, now maneuvered up the small hill next to the LZ. The men poked in the bushes, looking for possible snipers, and reconnoitered the other side of the hill.

SGT Walker, who had climbed the hill with the second platoon, sat down, leaned back against an anthill, and took out his map, checking it against the terrain below him. Back down on the LZ, the third platoon took up defensive positions on the northern half of the LZ.

Once the two areas were secure, word was sent up to the Charlie-Charlie: the LZ is green, the second flight can come in.
It was, and they did, in much the same manner as the first flight, except this time there was no M-60 machine gun fire from the choppers. The second 10 lift ships landed, and prop wash beating down the grass into saucer-shaped depressions as the grunts leaped to the ground. In a second, these choppers, too, were gone.

In a matter of seconds the first platoon was in position on the southern half of the perimeter and the weapons platoon had set up its 81mm mortars. The LZ was secure and ready for the insertion of the next company.

It was Hotel Plus Two.