Allen Cates Books and Articles
BULL WHIP 01
During the Vietnam War, the Airborne Battlefield Command and Control Center (ABCCC) operated over northern and southern Laos. The first aircraft assigned to the mission was a C-47, but it was later replaced by C-130s. ABCCC remained on station twenty-four hours a day. In northern Laos, the daytime aircraft used the call sign Cricket, while at night it was relieved by another C-130 operating under the call sign Alley Cat.
On May 19, 1970, I was flying an H-34 helicopter for Air America. The aircraft had originally been loaned to Air America by the United States Marine Corps under directives issued during the Kennedy and Johnson administrations.
That day I was operating from LS-32 (Bouam Long), northeast of the Plain of Jars. Three Air America helicopters were working from LS-32: two H-34s and one Bell 205.
A road leading from North Vietnam into the Plain of Jars was heavily defended by North Vietnamese forces equipped with 37 mm and 23 mm anti-aircraft guns. To avoid the threat, Air America aircraft departing LS-20A flew west of the Plain of Jars rather than following the direct route.
U.S. Air Force reconnaissance aircraft routinely flew missions along this corridor searching for enemy activity. Air America was responsible for search and rescue operations throughout northern Laos. In 1964 and 1965, one helicopter was permanently stationed at LS-36 with instructions to monitor the radio in case a rescue mission developed. At that time, the ABCCC aircraft used the call sign CROWN.
Search and rescue activity varied from intense to uneventful. As communications improved through relay stations and remote antennas, it was no longer necessary to maintain a helicopter on continuous standby at LS-36.
Air America aircraft reported to company operations every thirty minutes with an "Operations Normal" report. This two-way communications system allowed operations to maintain the approximate location of every aircraft and dispatch the nearest helicopter to a rescue site within minutes.
Normally, the senior aircraft commander directed rescue operations. That day the senior pilots were H.R. Casterlin and F.N. Smith flying the Bell 205.
Air America Operations received a call from Seventh/Thirteenth Air Force reporting that a U.S. Air Force aircraft had been shot down southeast of LS-32. Two crew members had successfully bailed out and required immediate rescue.
Operations radioed the three helicopters working nearby. We were given the frequency for Cricket and immediately came under its control.
The coordinates Cricket transmitted placed the survivors dangerously close to the heavily defended road. All three helicopters headed in that direction.
As we approached, I noticed small puffs of smoke. At first, I thought they were low clouds because the sky was overcast.
Casterlin quickly informed me that I was being bracketed by anti-aircraft fire from the road.
The Bell, being much faster, rapidly left the area. I was already too high to descend safely, so I elected to continue climbing. At 12,500 feet, however, the H-34 would climb no higher. I knew I had to get out of there and make another approach from low altitude.
Then we received word that the original coordinates were incorrect. New coordinates placed the survivors farther south.
Casterlin and Smith flew around the western side of the Plain of Jars while Woozley and I crossed directly over it.
We rendezvoused over a heavily forested valley where the survivors had come down.
Air Force rescue helicopters had departed Thailand at about the same time we were dispatched, but one developed a hydraulic malfunction and both helicopters turned back just as we were receiving fire near the road.
The bailout area appeared temporarily secure. We advised Cricket that we intended to recover the survivors using the rescue hoist because there was no suitable landing area and we wanted to remove them before enemy forces located them.
Cricket informed us that the Air Force rescue helicopters had resumed their flight toward Laos and asked whether we would allow them to complete the rescue instead.
Woozley calmly replied that the area could not be considered safe and that both the survivors and the Air America helicopters remained vulnerable. He added that if the Air Force wanted to make the pickup, that was acceptable—but we were not going to remain overhead waiting for them.
After about a minute, Cricket came back on the radio.
"Make the rescue."
The Bell went in first while we provided cover.
I watched the rescue hoist descend and saw one survivor place himself in the horse collar.
But nothing happened.
The hoist would not come back up.
The survivor began waving his arms while remaining suspended below the helicopter.
I called the Bell and asked whether they had a problem.
There was no answer.
There was a problem.
The Bell's hoist was less reliable than the one installed on the H-34, and it had failed at the worst possible moment. The flight mechanic was unable to raise the survivor by hand.
Then a comedy of errors unfolded.
Not only had the hoist failed, but the Bell's radios failed as well.
The flight mechanic desperately tried to signal the survivor that the hoist had malfunctioned and that he needed to release himself so another helicopter could complete the rescue.
The survivor had no intention of letting go.
He had survived being shot down, bailed out into enemy territory, and now believed he was finally being rescued.
He wasn't getting off that cable.
Eventually he understood the situation and, very reluctantly, released the horse collar—or so I was told later.
I couldn't be certain what had happened because the Bell could not communicate, but I suspected the hoist had failed. As soon as the Bell pulled away, I moved into position over the survivor.
The elevation required nearly maximum power to hover out of ground effect, while Woozley remained overhead protecting me.
I eased into the hover carefully, leaving myself enough room to move away without settling into the trees.
It was my second rescue in just over a month.
Earlier I had recovered Navy Lieutenant M.P. Hamilton after his A-7 Corsair was shot down in southern Laos during a bombing mission. We had received heavy ground fire during that rescue, and our helicopter had been hit in the rear fuselage. Filipino flight mechanic Romeo Nery had been with me on that mission.
Those memories made me more than a little apprehensive as I hovered above the trees—a stationary target.
Fortunately, I still had a small amount of power in reserve.
My flight mechanic, M.A. Leveriza, was a true professional. He guided me precisely over the survivor while I held a steady hover using the horizon as my reference.
Leveriza lowered the hoist.
The survivor secured the horse collar around himself.
Leveriza brought him aboard.
I immediately transitioned into forward flight.
Once I had enough altitude to see Woozley, I directed him to recover the second survivor, who had landed only a few hundred yards away.
Woozley's rescue went as smoothly as mine.
We then flew both survivors to LS-20A.
We shook hands with them and may even have exchanged names, although I don't remember doing so.
By the time we landed, the Bell crew had repaired their radio.
The Operations Manager at Twenty Alternate instructed the Bell to transport the survivors back to Udorn, Thailand, where they had launched earlier that day in their RF-4C Phantom.
Shortly after the Bell departed, the Air Force rescue helicopters finally arrived. They demanded that the Air America helicopter turn around so they could transport the rescued airmen to Udorn themselves.
Short of murder, Casterlin was not enthusiastic about that idea.
Nevertheless, he explained the situation to the two survivors and allowed them to decide.
Their decision took about two seconds.
They stated they had been rescued by Air America and were going home with Air America.
Casterlin and Smith received a royal welcome upon arriving at Udorn.
Woozley and I?
We stayed in the hills and went back to work—unknown and unrewarded. That’s simply the way Air America operated.
Still, when the day's flying was over, dinner tasted especially good.
Several years later I received an official letter from the Department of the Air Force identifying the aircraft we had rescued. It was an RF-4C Phantom based at Udorn, Thailand. The crew members were Captain F.P. Norton and Major C.A. Crawford.
Their call sign was Bullwhip 01.
Allen Cates
Former Air America Pilot
Author
Honor Denied
Above the Rice
The Girl with a Silver Necklace
Integrity’s Conundrum
The Uncertainty Protocol
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