“Yellow One, Yellow Two, Yellow Three.”
“Son of a bitch, that mother…” Mike George mumbled under his breath. Each of the Chicken-man aircraft responded in order.
“Yellow aircraft, you are to contact Crescent Six on four one five zero Fox Mike for additional mission. White One out.” He didn’t even wait for acknowledgment of the message or ask for a damage assessment.
Chapter 15
Get It In
“Yellow Two, Yellow Three, come up company push,” Mike George told the other two. Company push was the company UHF frequency for communications between aircraft. Once everyone was up, he asked, “Okay, guys, what’s the status of your aircraft?” Although not a unit flight leader, Mike had taken charge of this gaggle as he was the most experienced pilot.
“Mike, I have a few holes but all is good. Need fuel and ammo.” It was Fender.
“I’m about the same,” said Sinkey.
“Okay, here’s what I propose. I’ll take flight lead as Yellow One. Fender, you’re Yellow Two, and, Sinkey, you take Yellow Three.
Crescent Six doesn’t need all of us talking to him. He’ll probably hand us off to a couple of companies, but stay on company push and keep each other informed. I don’t think we’ll see any Lobo aircraft with us. Let’s just play it by ear. As soon as you’re fueled up and ready, let me know. Any questions?” Mike asked.
No questions were raised, and each aircraft proceeded into the refuel/rearm point once the Masher aircraft departed. Individually, Chicken-man crews liked and got along with Masher crews, but the Chicken-man crews couldn’t stand the Masher company commander. Truth be told, not many people could.
Mike’s crew chief and gunner were hot-refueling the aircraft, which was normal procedure during an ongoing operation, as opposed to shutting down the engine.
“Hey, Mr. George, you want a cold soda?” asked Mike’s door gunner, Specialist Smith. “How about you, Mr. Reid?”
“Yeah, I’ll take one. Where did you have those stashed?” Mr. Reid asked.
“I have a marmite can under my seat,” Smith responded as he handed up two very cold sodas that were most welcome.
“Well, let me give you some money tonight to get some more for tomorrow,” Mike said.
“That’s okay, Mr. George, because I bet this is the first time Mr. Reid has been under fire and he gets to buy the beer tonight. Am I wrong, Mr. Reid?” Smith asked. The look on Reid’s face said he was not. “I didn’t think I was,” Smith said with a big smile.
“Now wait one. I flew a psyops mission the other day and we thought we took fire, so there,” Reid said, very satisfied with himself.
“Thinking you take fire and taking fire are two very different things. You’re buying,” Mike said.
“Who’s buying beer tonight?” asked Mike’s crew chief, Specialist Kelly.
“Mr. Reid is treating us tonight, right, sir?”
“Oh, thanks, sir,” Kelly chimed in.
As crew chiefs completed refueling their respective aircraft, Yellow Two reported, “Yellow One, we’re up.”
“Yellow Three is up as well.”
“Roger. Two, get us Arty clearance to Bu Gia Map.” He turned to his crew. “Okay, guys, hop in if you’re done and let’s get going.” A minute later, Mike started down the runway. “Yellow One is on the go,” he indicated, climbing out towards Bu Gia Map.
Shortly afterwards, he heard, “Yellow One, Yellow Two, you are clear to Bu Gia Map.” Mike acknowledged and began tuning his number one FM radio to Crescent Six’s frequency. Leading his flight towards Bu Gia Map, Mike could see a flight of F-4 Phantom jets heading towards the valley he had left earlier. A fight was still in progress. This is not good, Mike thought.
“Crescent Six, Yellow One, over,” Mike called over the radio.
“Yellow One, Crescent Six.”
“Crescent Six, Yellow One is a flight of three en route to your location. Over.”
After a pause, Crescent Six replied, “Yellow One, did you say a flight of three?” Mike could hear some anger in his voice.