On May 1, 1964 we flew 15 of our planes down to Pleiku for a large joint operation with the South Vietnamese Army and US Army Helicopters.  It was to be a 3 day operation and we were the guests of the Army Aviation personnel at their base in Pleiku.  There weren't many U.S. Marines in Vietnam at that time, so we were kind of celebrities.  We did our best to carry the pride of the Corps in front of our new Army friends.  Their base operations seem to be newer than ours, although the personnel lived in tents.  We let them know the Marines had learned over the years how to fight with left over, older equipment and we would have no problem with those accommodations.  We invited them down to the flight line the next day to listen to a real aircraft engine start up, the P&W 1820.

The Army went out of its way to make us feel welcome with their “house boys" cutting up fresh pineapples and washing some clothing for those needing that service.  One big difference between our home and theirs was the “house boys” we had in Da Nang were really “house girls” in Pleiku.  I don’t remember if they had a club, but with what we might be in for the next day, most of us decided not add a hang over to that day’s activities.  We were all pretty excited about the operation as we had not ventured this far south on operations and it was suppose to be a big push over close to the Cambodian border.

We started early the next day getting our planes and equipment ready for launch.  After all the fine press we had given ourselves the day before, we didn’t want a number of our old piston pounding planes left on the ground.  I remember they had a bunker between the armory and flight line where you could test fire your machine guns before getting to the plane.  The only trouble, a few rounds down the barrel required a much greater cleaning effort at the end of the day.  I trusted the prior maintenance and cleaning of this equipment was my best insurance.  This same philosophy with the plane got you in and out of harms way.  Army personnel that cashed in on our invitation the day before were treated to the wonderful crescendos of 15 P&W 1820s coming life.
 

We picked up our troops and flew north into the mountains around Kontum.  I don’t remember the size of the force we were transporting, but it was going to be a multi-wave effort.  This was supposed to be a hot area of  VC activity and force and we were all expecting the welcome not to get as hospitable as recently received at Pleiku. We got to the landing area in time to see the Army gunships strafe and throw a few rockets into suspected sites on the hillsides surrounding the landing zone.  The adrenaline of the flight crews and the troops started to pump as we watched this ordinance being expended.  As the planes continued to circle, it became apparent our biggest problem was not enemy gunfire, but a place to land and let the troops out. The best we could do was a riverbed that was full of large boulders.  We hovered as close as we felt safe for the bellies of the aircraft, which was 4-6 ft. above the rocks.  When the troops came to the door and looked out, they completely rejected the idea of becoming paratroopers.  With a lot of yelling from the gunner and myself we finally got the squad going out the door.  I remember the first guy bouncing off a big boulder followed by the second guy, carrying a 81 mm base plate, landing right on top of him.  They just lay there as the other fell around them.

On the way back to get the next load of troops, I heard a medevac call for 2 injured in the landing zone and I wondered if they were my guys.  By the time we got back with the next wave, the first group was laying down by the stream sunning themselves with their feet in the water.  The fear of the previous flight had evaporated.  The troops on the ground were waving to their friends in the choppers and the scene was pretty festive.  You had the feeling of a successful slipping away but thankful you didn't get clobbered.  Once again the VC had probably received excellent intelligence about our operation and apparently couldn't handle the force.  They just left the area to us until we tired of the game and left.

 The CIA guys in our area had told us that on large operations the VC generally knew about them 2 days in advance.  I guess this is why the “Eagle Flights” were so successful.  As I remember the rule, if we came upon an enemy opportunity while enroute or involved with another operation, you could take the offensive immediately.  No prior approval was required.  We took advantage of this rule by loading some planes with troops and circle a predominately VC area until receiving a call from a spotter plane or ground patrol.  We could then drop down on the situation with the proper force to engage or stop the escape.

Most all of us were realizing this war was going to be difficult and long to be endured with the frustration of the daily operations being run by people remote to reality.
 

Submitted by:
    Warren R. Smith, former Cpl. USMC