Lucky Strike! - One of Many Memories from 1973, Pleiku, by Loc H. Pham

We were on alert that day as a flight of two. My friend was the lead and I was his wingman. After telling the duty officer, we walked about 50 yards to a club that belonged to a helicopter squadron, the 229th, for a coffee break. The phone at the duty desk rang; the duty officer received all needed operations information and then ran to the club to alert us. I quickly finished my glass of ice coffee while my lead took some long puffs of his just-lit cigarette. Walking back quickly to the squadron to get the rendezvous coordinates, aircraft's tail numbers, and contact frequency, we put on our flight and survival gears and jumped onto the waiting pickup truck to take us to the aircraft. Our call sign was Jupiter 40 with two AD-6s, each carried six Napalms. Jumping off the pickup truck, I handled the map and helmet to one of the crew chief to take them up to the cockpit while I circled the aircraft for a last quick visual inspection. The aircraft with six "aerodynamic dirty" and big Napalm bombs looked like a pregnant lady who was closed to the delivery date. I inspected all the safety wires for the Napalms and then climbed up to start the aircraft. I contacted my lead, #1:

He called for permission to taxi. At the end of runway 27, we stopped to perform the run-up and then reduced the power to idle allowing the weapons troops to remove the safety pins for the bombs. I looked at my lead and gave the thumb up signaling that I was ready for take-off; he called for take-off clearance:

My lead taxied onto the runway, I followed. He pushed for full power, released the brakes, his aircraft accelerated quickly. As soon as he lifted off, I took off. He banked slightly left heading south. The target was a suspect location of enemy concentration about 60 miles south south west of Pleiku. I adjusted my aircraft position to close in at my lead. I quickly scanned the outside of his aircraft looking for any obvious indication of abnormality. Nothing out of the ordinary was observed, I told him:

He also scanned at my aircraft:

I reduced power and banked slightly. When we were near the target area. My lead contacted the forward air controller (FAC) who happened to be from another squadron in our tactical wing, the 118th FAC squadron. The target area was suspected to have several anti-aircraft guns but no friendly forces were nearby. After talking to the FAC aircraft, we decided to use dive bomb tactics. This was not the usual delivery method we had been using for Napalm for which we generally delivered at level and low altitude (tree-top level) for accuracy and spreading the effective burn area. The FAC aircraft fired a smoke rocket and asked us to bomb about 100 feet north. Right after the FAC cleared the bombing pattern, my lead dived in and dropped his six Napalms. As soon as they exploded into flame, I rolled in. My aircraft accelerated quickly. While waiting for the target and the aim point of my gun sight to come together, I noticed several anti aircraft guns were flashing around the target area. Their tracers surrounded the aircraft but they did not deter me -- I was too busy concentrating on the target. I pressed the release button then pulled the aircraft up. Suddenly the aircraft tried to roll left. The left wing dropped so quickly; I used all my strength to keep the aircraft level. I then flipped the arm switch to the safe position. At the corner of my eyes -- all three Napalms on the left wing were still there! I quickly trimmed the aircraft to relieve some roll force and push full power to gain altitude. With the asymmetric loading and high drag configuration, the aircraft gained altitude, but ever so slowly. I informed my lead:

The FAC aircraft jumped in:

I made a wide pattern turn to gain attitude and then dived in. One hand was firmly on the stick, the other grasped the jettison handle. When the target came, I pulled the jettison handle while rocking the rudder to get rid of the bombs. As soon as the bombs left, I pulled the aircraft to higher altitude. I concentrated on jettisoning the bombs and did not notice whether or not I was shot at!

Lucky strike for me ...! If we had a close air support sortie that day, I would have flown at tree top level. At that altitude coupled with hung bombs, all on the same wing, the aircraft would have rolled so quickly that I would not have time to react ... Then who knew what would happen. I was not religious but before going to bed that night, I thanked God! Flying combat everyday for many years, what would be the odds of being lucky all the time?