when you see it, you'll shit bricks Rep: 33  Joined: 10 Sep 2005 Posts: 15,383 OFFLINE | Goldenraptor’s Vietnam story
July, 1971. 60 miles south of Hanoi.
A group of soldiers, from the segregated 186th division, are dropped from twelve different copters. Led by white Colonel Mitchell Anderson, the almost entirely black division was still not unsegregated due to lack of motion in Vietnam, despite efforts in Washington as they agreed to unsegregate the entire U.S. To this day, the 186th Squadron has been classified as “non-existing." They are a shimmer of despair that the United States had hoped to erase against the twin wars against Russia, or known as the Soviet Union, and North Vietnam. Looking in databases, you will find that the 186th, along with numerous other squadrons will not be listed. The current 186th squardron is an integrated air refueling service.
*Above is not part of the story below*
Sent in by numerous choppers, the 186th division consisted of 49 men. (this number may be a bit off, it’s been a while). The leader, Colonel Mitchell Anderson, was considered by many in the squadron, as “the most loyal patriot this country had ever seen," - Carl Davis, 68, currently known as his call sign, “Goldenraptor." An experienced shot, he was killed on the battlefield in the same battle that Carl lost his leg. Given the Standard M-16 high performance rifle, the squadron proved to be a huge failure, if it wasn’t for the leadership provided by Andreson. Anderson fought for the aknowledgement of the 186th, but the United States Military Force, still not completely integrated, denied the request. The exact words of the letter denying this are lost forever, they were burned by Anderson himself.
Among the “grunts” of the 186th squadron fought Carl Davis. Uneducated, and drafted into the war with two kids and a wife at home, Carl was instantly sent to the 186th, where the U.S. put all of the extras. It wasn’t only African Americans, it was Spanish, those of the Muslim Religion, and all other types of ethnicity. Colonel Anderson called these men the soul of tomorrow, but this is no story of the 54th Massachusetts. These men had no experience what-so-ever with weapons, and they had no education either, which amounted to a big deal. Colonel Anderson realized in order to survive, let alone win, this war, these men required a good, if fast, education. For four years, the men studied, not the arts of war, but the peace of man. Among this students were three exceptionally bright ones: Shawn, Kevin, and Carl. It was during this trial of freedom being discussed here, that they learned about the dinosaurs, and how they were discovering new fossils every day. Here, it was decided that the codename for the squadron would be the “Raptors."
After the four years of training, the Civil Rights movement had ended, and the United States Military had already passed a law not allowing to segregate Armies after WWII, but this squadron was an exception.
Then began weapon training, and all athletic abilites. All of the men in the
“Raptor” squadron had no physical experience to the level that they would be able to run a mile expertly. In a process that should have taken 6 months for the average person, the 186th took three years. All of the soldiers, even by the end of the training program, still lacked a true talent ot attack and kill. Many of the men had never even killed wildlife, including Carl, and would later discover the hardships of war. Kevin Miller, a Irish man, was considered the best shot, but he could hardly focus the M-16 into the X-Ring. Despite all of Colonel Anderson’s effots, the training was futile. He requested assitance.
Three more months pass by. On the right hand of Anderson stands Bill Harly, a WWII veteran and a son-of-a-bitch to boot (excuse my language). He said that Anderson was too soft, and requested permission to teach us. Anderson agreed without hesitation.
Harly was the extra “umph” that the “Raptors” needed. He was tough, and required by the end of three month each man was to run a 7:54 mile time for three miles. That was his standard. A true shot, Harly showed the soldiers how to hold a M-16. He addressed that the shoulder-butt would have to be in a comfortable position to fire correctly, and dissapproved of Colonel Anderson’s “how they learn is how they shoot” rule. The rule stated that the gun was supposed to be held in the most comfortable position for optimum accuracy. This was quickly proven wrong.
By the end of the three month program, the soldiers were refreshed, and they had been better prepared now than they had been all of their life. Rising tension was becoming an increasingly dangerous source of stress as the war for them mounted closer, and all of the soldiers had known hard work much earlier than the military life, so they kept it at a reasonably safe level. By May 1971, they would ship out to Vietnam.
May 1971
Proficient in weaponry, but not excellent, the “Raptor” squadron were supposed set out to a base camp in South Vietnam. Called “Camp 52”, it lacked the proper maintainence to keep up a standard to have humans living in. With pipes that leaked constantly, mosquitoes that were swarming in the swamps 200 meters to the north, and no food, water, or electricity, they obviously would die by camping there. Instead, they were sent to a more dangerous location.
Given twelve days of food, the squadron landed on the border between North and South Vietnam. As relatively small fighting broke out, casualties were low. On both sides, the armies were getting tired, and the raging battle showed no sign of slowing down. In fact, the battle was rising to dangerous limits.
The “Raptors” would have to require air support, but this proved to be a major difficulty. Both of the armies of the war had “state-of-the-art” aircraft, and at the border, lay 3 different aistrips, each with 25 F-4 Phantoms and supplies coming in from the new Boeing 747.
Day 2 of fighting.
Six days after landing, a major firefight broke out between the two armies. With over 7 casualties on the allied side, it began to get intense. Colonel Anderson requested Mark Speilbagun (a German recruit after he immigrated legally to the U.S.) to call in air support. In the distance, 15 F-4 Phantoms were being warmed up. Day 2 of Fighing.
The three airfields had agreed to send in 15 F-4 Phantoms in total. Giving Mark a respose to keep on fighting for twenty minutes, I have analyzed that the planes would take ten minutes to reload and refuel, five minute to takeoff, and five minutes to travel the average 20 miles to the warzone. As the planes arrived, they were intercepted by Russian-Made MiGs. A major air battle took place, and everyone in the battle field looked in awe as one of the “Falcon” missles that were only supposed to be experimental exploded 2000 feet in the air. Everyone on the ground were knocked to their feet. While I am not sure that it was a “Falcon” missle, the impact of the shock-wave suggested that it was nuclear-powered.
However, as the battle raged above us, the U.S. Military gave an evasive action order. We were told to go back and rest, and be ready to be transported to a more dangerous location to provide support for militants attempting to take over the capital of North Korea. On May 24th, 1971, 7 helicopters came to pick up 37 men. Twelve had been lost in combat.
June 1971.
Three more men had been lost to fever and diseases. We have requested additional support. We have low supplies of medicine, and now our numbers are 34, a lot less than the original 49.
We are at what they call Base Camp 12. I assume we are deep into South Vietnam, but I will never know. When I boarded the helicopter, I instantly fell asleep from exhaustion. But I wasn’t the only one. Most of us hadn’t recieved 5 hours of sleep per night for nearly one week. We very beginning to become confused and disoriented.
The U.S. Military had agreed to send in additional troops to replace those that we lost. Unlike the first batch, these new ones were well trained, and had an edge over the people who had started from the beginning. Our number was now 81.
Late June 1971
We are being shipped to 100 miles south of the North Vietnamese Capital. We are to trek the rest of the way. The helicopters lack the range and firepower to travel all of the way into the outer rim of Hanoi. This time, we are recieving a lot of assitance. The new Boeing 747 will carry tanks and airdrop them onto the battle field. These vehicles are going to be dropped from 700 feet and have parachutes to slow down the descent. We are feeling much more confident. Colonel Anderson said that we would be widely recognized as one of the most successful divisions if the operation was a success. But we grossly underestimated.
Early July, 1971- The final battle.
This is going to explain the parachuting process. We lost many of our number during this process.
200 soldier, Air Support, and 41 Tanks were supposed to single-handedly capture Hanoi. We were defeated within 17 days of marching.
I had only been on one aircraft, and the 747 was it. Before that, it had been transport ships and helicopters. We had the entire division to the plane. But we were not excited. We knew that some of us would not come out alive.
As we approached Hanoi, we were given final instructions to para-jumping. The main objective for them seemed to be not to pull the parachute at above 2500 feet. We were going to be “sitting ducks” if we had. The idea was to make sure all of the units were in different positions, then recieve a RECON data report. The 747 made one final turn, and we felt the altitude lower from 35000 feet to 5000 feet in only three minutes. I had noticed that the engines were almost completely silent. If the para-jumping went as planned, then we should be covering a wide 6 mile diameter of ground. But as expected, it did not go as planned.
Our parachutes were to be deployed at 1700 feet, but this proved to be harder than expected. The parachute release lever had been put on the back of the backpack, and as we had never practiced this before, we had no idea how to do it. 7 Soldiers died because they failed to release parachutes fast enough. I remember one soldier so clearly. He had fallen literally through a tree, so some pieces of his spinal cord was at the top of the tree, while the rest of him was in the middle of the tree. The image was so horrible, that it simply could not be explained. For those of us who had managed to release at 1700 feet, anti-aircraft fire had broken out in all regions. 9 soldiers had their bodies ripped through like tissue paper from .50 calibur bullets.
July 1971- Judgement Day.
After many days of hiking and breaking and making formation, we had reached the point of battle. We could tell that it was very recent, maybe not even a week ago. Fires were out, and smoke had stopped rising. However, the bodies were lying all over the ground. Americans and Viet Cong spread like sunflower seeds, and this one man, a vietnamese was still alive. He was not badly injured. We searched him and found a picture. It was a picture of his wife and daughter. We could not bring ourselves to kill this man. I helped persuade Anderson to let him live and to bring in a Medi-vac. He reluctantly agreed. We knew why. Many of us had families back home. He was not exception.
As we marched, the storms began to roll in. Everyday, at least 5 inches of rain fell, and we felt weary. The pain to walk through mud with 70 pound backpacks in the rain is not comfortable. For three more days we hiked, when on the morning of the forth day, we heard gunshots. We went into a jogging pace. Anderson told us to get our weapons ready. Our M-16s were fully loaded. We were ready.
On 2:00, we went into combat. Gunfire was being heard throughout, and I personally was terrified. But kill or be killed, that statement ran through my head. So I popped my head up and drove three bullets straight into this one guy’s cranium. That was the only kill I got.
As the day wore on, Colonel Anderson again request Mark to request Air Support. When the aircraft came, they were met up by other aircraft from the enemy also producing large levels of air support. Over head, a dog fight began. On the ground, the battle was raging. The “Raptors” had lost over 27 more soldiers when the first airplane came crashing down. An F-4 Phantom came lumbering down, and slammed into the ground at 600 miles per hour, sending shrapnel and debris all over, and decaptitating Colonel Anderson at the head level. His eyes remained in place, but everything above his eyes were no more. The sharp debris had took care of that.
July 1971- Judgement Day, Part II
With Colonel Anderson killed by shrapnel from an allied aircraft, the squadron began to fall apart. They began to understand the difficulties more than ever, as a solid voice of leadership was ripped away. Mark, the radioman, as killed ten seconds after Anderson, as he was directly behind Anderson, as he became distracted by the human brain all over his face. Russian-built MiGs began to shower the “Raptors” with bullets from 30 mm cannons. Mark was hit in the neck, and had his vocal chord ripped from its sanctuary. With that, the squadron had to use non-trained communicators to contact allied aircraft and control centers.
The fighted continued for three more hours. Allied transport began dropping supplies, but some were not on the mark. One plane completely missed, and dropped not supplies, but itself into the battlezone. This crash was very intense, and both sides were knocked off of their feet. A huge crator was in the battle field. After spending many hours in the hospital analyzing the situation, I determined that it was a Vietnamese Aircraft, as the U.S. had many hours of training going into each pilot. As the battle continued, another allied jet came crashing down. It was obviously on the trail of the Cargo plane, and could not pull up in time.
Running extremely low on ammuntion, we were given the orders to retreat. With no solid radio person, we were almost defenseless. But Pierre had picked up the radio and was now attempting to describe the location. It was futile, and our squadron was told to retreat. As we ran, we were pursued by the Viet Cong, and we had fighter planes marking our position. One F-104 or F-105 fired a missle, and it sent shrapnel flying everywhere, including towards the “raptors." An extremely large piece of liquid magma from the fiery explosion came our way, and it burned right through my leg. Due to the heat of it, my leg did not bleed, but that did not stop the pain. I blacked out.
I assume that somebody carried me to the helicopter, but I do not know who. We lost over 80 per cent of our numbers, and I was sent home as a useless.
I do not remember any more. A lot of things may be off, but I don’t think that it is too many things. ---
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