In addition to these SF personnel, Sarge included 5 ARVN Ranger Scouts. No one could pronounce their names so the men just referred to them as Number 1, 2, 3, 4 or Number 5. Now the team, once the junior medic arrived, would consist of 12 members.
* * * * *
No more had this thought gotten out of Sergeant Scarburg’s head, when a Huey came flying in like a bat-out-of-hell and unloaded the last remaining member of the team – one Staff Sergeant Billy James, Medical Specialist.
In addition to the new medical sergeant another person emerged from the dust the helicopter was kicking up. He had the look of an Asian but something about his demeanor said he wasn’t what he seemed. He was dressed in tiger stripped camouflage fatigues, boots, hatless and carried no weapon or side arm. He had a green canvas Army duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
‘Who is this idiot?’ Sarge thought as the Huey lifted back into the air taking with it that unmistakable ‘Whomp’, ‘Whomp’, Whomp’ sound that faded as the ‘copter flew over the compound and out of sight.
Sarge still holding onto his beret as the debris and wind died down from the Huey’s departure ran out to meet the two men that had just arrived. “I’m MSG Scarburg,” he said to the Staff Sergeant. “Are you my replacement medic?”
“Roger that,” the sergeant replied, sticking out his hand, “Staff Sergeant Billy James reporting as ordered Sergeant.”
“Welcome aboard, Sergeant James… good thing your folks liked Billy and not Jesse!” Sarge said trying to break the ice and make the new arrival feel welcomed.
“Sorry to disappoint you Sergeant Scarburg but Jesse would be my brother!” and they both laughed.
Sarge then turned to the other ‘person’ who had been standing, patiently listening to the two soldiers exchange salutations. Extending his hand to the ‘stranger’ Sarge said, “Hello, I’m Master Sergeant Scarburg, could I direct you to someone?”
* * * * *
The stranger motioned Sergeant Scarburg aside so they could converse privately. “Sergeant,” the stranger began, “let me introduce myself: I am Dr. Spurgeon Loo Kim.
"Medical doctor?"
"Sorry, no PhD.
I am an Intelligence Analysis with the CIA. I am not Asian - I am an American. I just want to clear the air before we begin.
My father, also a CIA Operations Officer, is an American of Asian descent and married my mother, who is Chinese, while stationed in Thailand. In fact I was born in that country. I speak English, Chinese, French, Russian, and both the Southern and Northern dialects of the Khmer language of the Cambodians, Thai and Vietnamese; however, I have not been assigned to your team as an interpreter; but, if we find this place to which we seek, there could be papers that could be written in any language. I can, and will, be available to assist Captain Scarburg, if needed.”
“MY team! Sergeant Scarburg said excitedly. “You are going to be on MY team! Over my dead body you will! No FNG (F**king New Guy), especially a civilian is coming with me!”
Before Sarge could continue with his tirade Dr. Kim extracted a brown folder from inside his shirt he said, “Here are my orders, and yours, Sergeant Scarburg. I suggest you might want to read them! They will explain that I AM INDEED coming as a member of your team.
I have two doctorate degrees, Sergeant, and I specialize in Radiological Intelligence to include Code Interpretation. Our guys think this Pac Toul place may be sending coded radio messages into…. well we do not quite know the answer to that… and why… we not have that one figured out yet either. That’s why I’m coming – to find out, along with you.”
Bewildered, Sarge said without actually speaking to anyone, “Pick up your gear, I’ll go get you both settled in and introduce you to the rest of YOUR team!”
* * * * *
Sarge called for a team meeting at 1600 hours. At 4 pm everyone reported as present or accounted for. He introduced the new medic Sergeant Billy James – who they immediately dubbed ‘Jesse’.
'Jesse' argued, to no avail, that Jesse was his brother! Laughing, the rest of the team said, “Yeah, yeah, that’s what anyone named James always say –‘That’s my brother’, your ‘Jesse’ and that’s final!”
Sarge next presented Spurgeon Loo Kim to his team. He explained HQ’s purpose in assigning Dr. Kim’s as the new team member and asked them, to please, assist Dr. Kim in any and all ways possible.
They immediately stuck him with the name Spook.
One would think because he was CIA. Wrong again, SP from Spurgeon, OO from Loo and K from Kim. S.P.O.O.K. makes perfect sense, huh?
To complete his team’s briefing Sarge had one more item to discuss: the parachute jump.
As the Captain had earlier explained to Sergeant Scarburg the C-7A (Caribou) would be the transport aircraft that would deliver the team to the DZ (drop zone) in Cambodia; however, he still had two problems:
1) Jump qualified personnel are required to undergo refresher training every six months (none of Sarge's men had)
2) Sarge believed none of his team had ever jumped from a Caribou (they hadn’t).
He reasoned it prudent to, at least, instruct them on what jump procedures should be used before they got into the air.
First the only jump re-training Sarge could do was have the men do some PLFs (Parachute Landing Falls), and go over some of the emergency moves, if needed; however, at the altitude they would be jumping, 600’, 'the emergency move' is saying The Lord's Prayer' in record time, nothing else will be necessary. In fact, contrary to all SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures) instructions, Sarge had the parachute riggers leave off the reserve parachute. It was just useless added weight!
Sarge told them, “Men you will begin your ‘holiday’ excursion into Cambodia by jumping from a perfectly good airplane: The Air Force C-7A or as the Army refers to it the 'Caribou'.”
He explained about it being a high-wing transport aircraft powered by two piston driven engines. A total of 24 parachutists may be dropped using the doors or ramp. “But gentlemen,” instructed the Sarge, “we, obviously, are only 13, and we will use the rear ramp.”
“We will number off as we enter the aircraft. Six of you will be seated on the starboard side, for you that don’t remember that’s the right side, in one 6-parachutist stick. The other seven will make up the other stick and will sit on the port or left side. Odd numbered personnel will be seated on the starboard side, even-numbered will be seated on the port side.
The anchor line cable for ramp jumps runs from the anchor line attachment plate on the forward bulkhead to the anchor line connector near the right side of the aft starboard door.
Men I will be the Jump Master and Captain Scarburg will jump first. As Intel Officer I want him on the ground first. I'll be last and will follow you all off the ramp. The Jump Commands will be as follows:
1. GET READY
2. PORT SIDE Personnel STAND UP.
3. STARBOARD SIDE Personnel, STAND UP.
4. HOOKUP – Even numbered jumpers hookup between odd-numbered jumpers to form a continuous stick of jumpers.
5. CHECK STATIC LINES.
6. CHECK EQUIPMENT.
7. SOUND OFF FOR EQUIPMENT CHECK.
8. STAND BY – Number 1 jumper, upon receiving the command STAND BY, assume a standing position near the starboard side of the ramp hinge. The number 2 jumper stand on the port side of the aircraft to the right of jumper number 1 you remaining personnel close up the interval behind.
9. GO – Number 1 jumper, walk off the port, remember, left rear corner of the ramp. The remaining jumpers you will follow at 1 second intervals.”
And, oh yeah, reminded Sarge, “one safety note: All jumpers remain OFF the ramp while it is being lowered. And guys, let me warn you, walk down the ramp with feet spread wide to prevent striking the side of the aircraft.”
At the beginning of the parachute briefing Sarge thought he only had two problems:
1) No refresher training by the paratrooper
s and
2) None had jumped a Caribou before.
Was he ever wrong!!!!!
* * * * *
Spook spoke up. “Sergeant Scarburg, I have a slight problem!”
“What... ? Was there something that you did not understand, Dr. Kim?”
“Oh no, I understood everything perfectly – I know when you are going, I know how you are going, my problem is I don’t know how I’M going!!
Sarge answered, “Going... ? Going... ? Well Dr. Kim you will be GOING with us out the tail end of that Caribou airplane! We’re all going to hit the silk together!
“Sergeant - that IS the problem… I have never ‘hit the silk’. I have never jumped from an airplane,” said Dr. Kim.
“What! You are not jump qualified? What in the hell are they doing sending YOU?
Kim said, “My bosses told me to never underestimate the value of OJT (on-the-job-training).”
Sarge stood there in shock. Then his brain started working again and he said, “What the hell, your ‘chute will open or it won’t and you’ll either live or you’ll die when you hit the ground, and die is top on the list. You’re only going to get one try anyway and Dr. Kim… I'll repeat... what the hell, welcome aboard!” ‘Damn he makes 13!! I hate the number 13, it’s bad luck; something bad always happens when I have 13,’ though Sarge.
“Yes, thank you Sergeant,” Spook nervously replied.
“Dr. Kim, Special Forces give guarantees with their parachutes so if yours doesn’t open just bring it back and they’ll re-issue you another one!” Everyone laughed and snickered as they looked at Spook. He managed a slight grin.
“Dr. Kim once you step off the ramp begin counting… One Thousand… Two Thousand… Three Thousand… Four Thousand… at the count of four thousand, Dr. Kim, you should feel the opening shock of the parachute.”
“What am I supposed to do if I don’t feel the shock?”
“I was just getting to that, Dr. Kim,” Sarge said. “If you don’t feel anything at four thousand bend over stick your head between your legs…
“Yeah, yeah what do I do then?” Spook asked anxiously.
“Kiss your ass goodbye!”
He couldn’t have gotten the men laughing any harder if he had been a guest on Johnny Carson's The Tonight Show. He would have brought the house down!
Sarge said to Dr. Kim, “Seriously, don’t worry, we’ll get you all harnessed up, when you get on the plane we will hook up your static line to the anchor cable and make certain it is locked and secure. All you have to do is watch the other guys and do what they do – basically you will walk to the rear of the Caribou, the ramp will be down, and you just follow the person in front of you and walk off the end of the ramp.
Everything from there on is automatic, if everything works okay. Even if it don’t you won’t have enough time to worry about it. Don’t worry, you’ll do okay, I’ll put you behind Captain Scarburg, he’ll take care of you.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
OPS-113 ‘PHOTO SEARCH’ TAKES OFF
Friday 20 October 1967
Polei Kleng Ranger Base Camp
The late afternoon sun was beginning to slowly sink behind the trees toward the west. The effects of the daylight dimming was the only proof that the shining beacon that lets us distinguish night from day was, in fact, taking away the day and bringing on the night. The reason for this anomaly was nothing but a typical October day in the ‘Nam… weather forecast as usual… heavy rain with heavy overcast.
The team had been transported from their base at Polei Kleng to the airfield at Kontum. All the men counted off and boarded the C-7A Caribou that had been sitting on the tarmac with both its huge Pratt & Whitney, 3 blade, 1450 hp, 14 cylinder radial engines idling at a loping 650 rpms warming up while awaiting the teams arrival.
There was very little conversation between the men… the tension was thick... so thick you could have cut it with a knife… this was real… they knew this was no training exercise!
The men boarded the aircraft, pulled down their web seats – they started piling their equipment on the floor and settled in to make themselves as comfortable as possible for the next few hours.
Based upon the approximate 120-knot cruising speed of the Caribou, they would be in the air for almost four hours.
A couple of the men, with nerves of steel, unbuckled their chin straps, pulled off their M1C steel pot jump helmets and put their heads back and tried to catch a few ‘zzzs’. A few others tried to make small talk, hoping to appear less nervous to the others. The rest sat bent over and stared at the steel pallet rollers in the metal floor of this Air Force cargo plane.
Maybe some were praying, thinking of home or going over their duties once they were on the ground; whatever the purpose or reason each man endured the flight in his own personal way.
For sure, Dr. Kim prayed too, hard and fast - he had said every prayer that he had ever learned, and was at the point of making some up as he flew closer and closer to that inevitable time that he had to make the ‘jump’
* * * * *
Twenty minutes before reaching the subject of Dr. Kim's prayer with his God - the drop zone - Sergeant Scarburg, unbuckled his seat belt, stood up and walked to the rear of the aircraft. He raised his arms and used them to motion the command to “Get Ready”; next he motioned the command “Port Side Personnel Stand Up." Those men on the left side stood up, secured their seats and faced the ramp in the rear. Sergeant Scarburg then signaled the command “Starboard Side Personnel Stand Up”; they followed the lead of the troopers opposite them. The command “Hookup” was given and each even numbered jumpers hookup was between the odd-numbered jumpers to form a continuous stick of jumpers. Then the “Check Static Lines, Check Equipment and Sound Off for Equipment Check” commands were given.
The ramp lowered and they all awaited the pilot’s "Go" signal. He will switch on the green idiot light next to the ramp.
As they waited the men broke into the ‘The Men with the Green Berets’. Singing at the top of their lungs to overcome the rumbling reverberation of the Caribou engines and the roar of the wind whistling past the opening in the planes rear:
“Warrior soldiers who jump from planes”
“Others say they feel no pain”
“Some will cross as some do pray”
“But they earned the Green Beret”
“Silver ‘chutes sewn on their breast”
“These warrior men who never rest”
“Many men will jump today”
“And everyone with a Green Beret”
The singing had not finished as the green light ‘Go’ signal flashed on. Sarge slapped the first man’s shoulder, Captain Scarburg, and yelled, “GO”.
Next was Spook, with eyes tightly shut, sweating profusely and praying now out loud ... "Our Father which art in heavennnnnnnnn......" stumbled off the end of the rear exit ramp as the rest of the men shuffled toward the rear ramp and singularly in an orderly fashion followed him out into the blackness of the Cambodian night.
Sarge was correct when he told Dr. Kim about the opening shock. At Ft. Benning, while in training, soon to be paratroopers are taught to start counting when they exit the ‘plane. If they finish the 6000 count and feel the opening shock they should look up, check the canopy for malfunctions or damage and then gain control of the parachute. If the parachutist feels no opening shock, he is to begin emergency procedures.
This is all well and good jumping in a training exercise, in daylight and under favorable conditions. Tonight it’s pitch dark. Its either currently raining or has been raining. The sky is overcast, and you can’t even see your parachute canopy if you looked up. Hell it’s so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face! At 600 feet, you don’t have time to worry about it anyway… you have no idea what you are landing in… trees, water, rocks, hell who know what.
As Dr. Kim literally fell out into the nothingness of space his mind went blank – he couldn’t remember the rest of The
Lord's Prayer, hell he couldn't even remember his own name, must less begin counting one thousand… ‘Thump’, the parachute opened, jerked him from his falling speed of 120 mph to almost 0. He felt as if the straps around his private parts had just severed those important appendages from his body. He knew now why Sarge had told him to make sure those leg straps were tight. ‘Really’, ‘really’ tight.
As earlier stated the Caribou approached the area designated as the LZ (Landing Zone))… Captain Scarburg jumped first, following by the rest of the team with Sergeant Scarburg bringing up the rear. All exited the aircraft perfectly. Seemingly no malfunctioning ‘chutes and everyone landed within close proximity to each other.
At least that is what was at first thought.
* * * * *
At first the only causality was thought to be a slightly twisted ankle by SFC Jim Bo 'Tex' De Luca. He indicated the ankle was fine, just sore. They all retrieved and hid their ‘chutes and then assembled themselves together at the pre-determined staging area.
Once everyone had circled around Sarge, he whispered, "I’ll begin the count off, and they began: “One”; Captain: “Two”; Spook: “Three”; Tex: “Four”; Teach: “Five”; Doc Mayo: “Six”; Bonnie: “Seven”; Ranger Scout 1: “Eight”; Ranger Scout 2: “Nine”; Ranger Scout 3: “Ten”; Ranger Scout 4: “Eleven”; Ranger Scout 5: “Twelve”.
Sarge whispered, “Thirteen?” No one answered to the number Thirteen. "Where is Thirteen? Who is missing?”
A quick look around the camouflaged faces in the circle indicated to Sarge and the others that the missing man was the last man to arrive at Polei Kleng, Staff Sergeant William James, the Junior Medical Specialist, a.k.a. ‘Jesse’
Hushed questions went around the circle, ‘who saw him last?’ ‘Did anyone see him on ground?’ ‘Did he exit the aircraft okay?’ Back and forth the circle asked themselves questions but no answers were quickly forthcoming: ‘He was in front of me in the stick’… ‘I saw him step off the ramp’… ‘It was too dark I never saw him in the air’… ‘I didn’t see him on the ground’… around and around unanswered questions were hotly pursued but Sarge already knew the answer.