Authors: Travis Stone
49
T
he Cayuse left
Saigon
behind and the hodgepodge of rusted roofs fell away to a sparkling
landscape of lime-green and glass black rice paddies.
Under full
power, the chopper climbed out at 70 knots into a sky layered with sheets of
watery cloud. They crossed into Cambodian airspace, and Chaske wondered if he
would ever see Danny again. He looked into the back.
Cam
was in one of her trances. Blue was tying sheet-shanks in a
repelling line. Blue caught his eye, and said: 'I'm a bit green-around-the-gills,
mate.'
'You were pretty
drunk last night.'
'Had
a-skin-f,' he made a face. 'Though I was on leave.'
Chaske smiled
and turned back.
Civil Air
Transport's approved flight-plan avoided known enemy positions and provided the
safest route over
Cambodia
, and
into South-Western Laos, where they would break course and find their
drop-zone.
Chaske felt as
though he was riding a rollercoaster of doubt - but now he had no choice but to
hang on for the ride.
The Cayuse
reached 15,000 feet, leveled out, and settled in at 125 knots.
Golota banked
north, and said: 'Manifold pressure's low. Fuel's half on primary.'
Chaske gave him
the thumbs-up.
They picked up
the
Mekong
River
, weaving a dark pattern into the
green below, and followed it to the buttressed plateau that marked the Laotian
boarder. The chopper tilted to the right and began to descend.
Chaske pinched
his nose and blew to unblock his ears. He turned to Blue. 'Switch on,' he said.
'It's game time.'
Blue said: 'You
beauty,' and worked the action of his MP-5.
Ahead, cloud
choked the myriad of deep, jungle filled valleys for as far as Chaske could
see, and below, a new, smaller river lured them toward danger.
'We're over
Laos
,' Golota said. '11,000 feet.'
Chaske motioned
to the cloud bank below. 'Should conceal us from ground based eyes.'
'The radar at
Lima
will have us.'
Chaske nodded.
He hadn't considered that.
Golota said:
'They'll see we're off course.'
'Once we go
nap-of-the-earth, we'll break contact.'
'If they don't
shoot us down first.'
The Cayuse hit a
down-draft and the tone of the blades deepened.
Golota said:
'9,000 feet,' toggled the series of switches, which Chaske guessed changed the
fuel tanks, and then aimed the chopper at a bulky feature, protruding through
the mist.
'We should get
under the cloud now, John.'
'No,' Golota
said. 'Stay high - stay safe.'
Chaske checked
the map. 'It'll be hard to pin-point the drop-zone.'
'Probably
impossible,' Golota said.
Chaske felt deep
apprehension: to come all this way and not find the DZ would be devastating.
'We'll have to risk going under it,' he said.
'Like fuck.'
Cam
came out of her trance and leaned into the front. She pointed to a
hole in the cloud, and said: 'Down there.'
Chaske felt
relieved, and realized that he had been anxiously awaiting her guidance.
'This is
bullshit,' Golota said. 'She's gunna get us wasted.'
The chopper
dropped below the rocky pinnacles, which thrust up through the cloud on their
right, and its blades hushed to a whir.
This is it
, Chaske thought.
Do or die.
'Go for the cloud break,' he
told Golota.
'I can't believe
you're buying this shit.'
The tone of the
blades deepened again as Golota bled off air-speed. He flew the machine close
to the pinnacles, and then banked toward the cloud break. Over the valley's
mid-point, he tipped the Cayuse into a descending cork-screw.
Fog instantly
engulfed the chopper and everything went white.
The glare
blinded Chaske and he lost situational awareness. He said to Golota: 'You got
it under control?'
'Can't see
shit.'
'You got it?'
'I've lost it.'
'Pull up.'
'I need a
reference.'
The cloud peeled
away and Chaske got his first clear view of the valley: a vast expanse of dark,
rolling jungle, laced with a web of streams, gorges, and rocky peaks.
Golota said:
'We're too low.'
Chaske gripped
the seat and his gut rippled. 'Where the hell are we?'
'Lost. We gotta
climb out west. Confirm our position.'
Cam
pointed to a jungle plateau further up the valley, and said: 'One
zero six, Chaske.'
'Make a circle
of the plateau, John.'
'You're fucking
mad.'
* * *
The young NVA soldier raised the
hand-held-surface-to-air-missile skyward and butterflies filled his stomach.
This would be
the first time he had ever fired the weapon, as they were of such value that
live practice was not possible.
Nerves fueled
the boy's excitement, and he looked up through a gap in the canopy, waiting for
the American helicopter to appear. He could feel the weight of responsibility;
he did not want to miss.
The hum of
rotor-blades got steadily louder; then he saw it. The chopper flew overhead,
moving away from him. The boy felt pleased: his father had told him that a tail
shot was the best. He held the barrel steady on his shoulder, closed one eye,
and looked through the sight-ring with the other. He felt disappointed; the
chopper was only small. He had hoped to shoot down one of the big ones.
He held his
breath, centered the chopper in the sight-ring, and pulled the trigger. The
launcher jerked and the missile flashed up through the trees, trailing a cone
of orange flame.
Then he felt
terrible disappointment: the helicopter turned rapidly, and it looked like the
rocket would to miss to its rear. Perhaps his father had been wrong about the
tail shot being the best.
But then the
missile suddenly arced toward the machine, and he hopped on one leg, willing
the missile to the hit the helicopter.
* * *
Golota felt vulnerable.
He said to
Chaske: 'This is crazy. We should climb out-'
Golota saw the
flash of the rocket engine out of the corner of his left eye and reacted
instantly. He jerked hard left on the stick, stomped on the rudder pedal, and
twisted the throttle to its limit.
He knew it would
not be enough.
The explosion
rocked the 800lb machine violently. Golota felt the airframe twist and shrapnel
pelt the Cayuse's skin. The warning Betty came on with a loud whooping; all of
the engine gauges snapped to zero; and the instrument panel lit up red.
Golota felt
sick.
An engine
flame-out was his worst fear above the rain-forest. He fought for control, but
got no stick response.
'What the fuck
was that,' Chaske yelled.
Golota heard the
discomfort in Chaske's voice. Had it not been for his dire situation, Golota
would've enjoyed it.
'We shoulda'
pulled out, asshole.'
The chopper
began to shake.
Golota jerked
the stick and still nothing happened. He automatically scanned the five main
gauges whilst angling the blades for autorotation. He knew he had to act
quickly to save himself.
The chopper's
shaking became epileptic.
Golota didn't
have enough time or altitude to restart the engine. He knew they were going to
crash. He yelled: 'We're goin' in.'
Below, the
canopy's dark green mat quickly separated out into individual trees until
leaves and branches filled his vision and he knew the flimsy machine would be
ripped apart with him inside it.
His autorotation
began slowing the rate-of-descent.
Not enough,
he thought.
He saw the point
of impact - the top a massive tree - and he visualized the drop to the jungle
floor, one-hundred feet below. He gained a small amount of stick control and
pulled the nose up.
The chopper hit
the tree with a bone jarring crunch of tearing metal; the thick branches
grabbing the machine like a catcher's mitt snatching a baseball.
Golota's chest
slammed into the instrument panel. His helmet hit the Perspex. His balls felt
like they'd popped.
The chopper
groaned to a stop in the branches. The tree didn't even sway.
Everything went
quiet.
* * *
One hundred feet beneath the impaled
Cayuse, mist swirled through the rain-forest.
Chaske peered
down into the haze. They had all heard it - voices.
Human shapes
materialized below.
A patrol
, Chaske thought.
Chaske knew the
NVA soldiers who had shot them down would search for the wreckage, but he had
not expected them to arrive in minutes. He held his breath. The branches
concealed most, but not all of the Cayuse from view.
If they look
up,
he thought.
We're dead.
Slowly, the
patrol went beneath them and moved off into the undergrowth.
After an
uncomfortable silence, Golota said: 'We gotta get down.'
The Cayuse
moved. It was not stable.
Blue said: 'The
bloody thing'll fall out.'
'Stay still,'
Chaske said. 'I'll tie it off.'
Smoothly, Blue
handed Chaske a coiled repelling line. Chaske unbuckled his harness, eased open
the door, and climbed onto a branch. The Cayuse groaned with the transfer of
weight. Chaske saw the ground and vertigo tingled through his body.
Chaske tied-off
each skid to a branch, then let the line fall to the ground. Blue went down
first, then Golota. Chaske threaded the line through his figure-of-eight, and
Cam
climbed to his back; her arms and legs
gripping his neck and waist with surprising strength. He stepped off the branch
and they swung into space. With expert control, he took the tension off the
line and descended the one-hundred feet to the forest floor. On the ground,
Chaske surveyed the prehistoric terrain. Moss and vines hung from the trees,
age-old growth mauled massive boulders, the canopy blocked the sky, and sandal
prints covered the loam.
Cam
said: 'We must move.'
Golota sneered.
'What a genius?'
'What
direction?' Chaske said. Less than four hours ago he had been in
Saigon
's teaming streets; the remote
rain-forest was pure contrast.
Cam
pointed to where two blades of sunlight sliced through the canopy,
illuminating the undergrowth. 'This is our path. We follow the light.'
Golota squared
up to Chaske. 'It's time to stop this bullshit.'
Chaske rolled
his shoulders.
Golota eyeballed
Blue. 'Things have changed. We ditch this bullshit and head east - to friendly
forces. This place is crawling with gooks. The mission is impossible now. East
is our only chance of survival.'
Chaske said: 'You're
free to go, Golota. I'll pay you when we get back.'
Golota pointed
at
Cam
. 'You're on a suicide
mission if you're taking orders from this gook bitch.'
Blue pushed past
Golota. 'I'll take point.'
'You've gotta
death-wish.'
Blue led
Cam
and Chaske though the illuminated
section of scrub and between two giant boulders, which funneled them onto the
leeward side of a steep hill. Chaske knew Golota would follow, but he would've
preferred him to go his own way. They picked up an animal trail that cut above a
steep bluff system. Chaske could just hear the stream, gurgling hundreds of
feet below. They skirted the bluffs for several hours, and then the animal
trail cut back into the forest. After a climb, they broke out onto a gently
rising plateau.
Cam
pointed to a low ridge, a-few-hundred feet ahead. 'Up there.'
Chaske gave Blue
a nod and the Australian rushed thirty yards ahead and dropped behind a giant
log, which looked like it could have fallen a-thousand years ago. Blue
immediately gave the danger signal - a clenched fist - and then signaled for
Chaske to come forward. Chaske got to the log and Blue crawled into a gap
beneath it. Chaske looked in and saw that the cavity provided a clear view of
the forest ahead.
'What's up
Blue?'
Blue pointed
uphill.