As far as survivability goes, everything is great as long as you have your rotors, but the world turns dark when either the main or the tail rototrs depart the scene. In tandem rotored aircraft it's one of those good night Harriets, in the main rotor - tail rotor world, life is just a little more complicated.

Getting to the hilltop zone. I recall one mission that took us a long flight west from DaNang to a radio relay type zone. Zone was completely socked in so we pulled the traditional, get close enough to the mountain to see the trees and hover up the side. Got to the top and had a devil of a time fitting the 46 into the zone. As we left the zone the man on the ground thanked us and commended us for our landing saying "That Huey had a hard time fitting into the zone the other day.":o

So far as beauty goes, I've flown the Frog, the UH-1s and the Snakes. Yes, the Snakes were a lot nicer to look at, but the Frog was one of those birds that only its pilots could love. And we did.

...well that's the thing Bob,

only those who flew them / loved them, and I hope I don't distrupt things :confused:here by preferring the design of the 'much better looking' Hueys or Cobras:D

What must be revealed here is, had you been able to see the crews, you would have realized that the 46 crews were always remarkably better looking that the other crews! 😀

Hi USMC,

Jim Bell and I were flying a Cobra during a medevac for a patrol out of Ross in my first week in country in July of 70. We were between Ross and Baldy, south of the Que Sons. We were shot down on our first pass and picked up by the 46 we were covering. After we took off and I as I was breathing a sigh of relief, we went right back down to get the wounded Marine. He had a sucking chest wound and he showed me right up front why the helicopters were there. Wounded as he was, he had a big smile and thumbs up for us as he came aboard. I had 10 minutes of pucker, but that Marine, his buddies and you lived with pucker every day.

My hat's off to you all.

Semper Fi and God Bless,

Buck Simmons
Scarface 48

... the was we were just a bunch of kids all following the fearless leader who in most cases was as scared as we were.

walking accross open rice patties.. approaching tree lines from the wide open?

who ever thought of these ideas? we had no clue, but had to do as we were told.

lots of times I found the guy behind me following almost directly behind me rather than sweeping next to me in order for me to hopefully block the first sniper shot out of a tree line.

at first I was like,... what the hel#?

only later, after seeing a few guys get taking down I ended up kinda doing the same thing whenever possible.

ya just never knew when or where the first round or multiple rounds were going to come from. Usually we had no cover other than floppn down in the water behind the walk ways that were built up a bit around the periminter of the rice patties which was cool with me as long as I was close enough to one, but when ya had to run 20 to 40 feet to get to one ya usually didn't make it in time before rounds were hittn the water all around ya..

Was gung ho in the begining till I had my first confrontation then 'charge' went right out the window with John Wayne.

after the first firefight I use to cringe anytime I was rounded up for another patrol or ambush off our base camp.

was so happy to get out of that place ya just wouldn't beleive.

some guys thought they were smart when going on ambushes, by 'not' going to their designated grids at night. Instead they'd stay close to the base, as close to the wire as they could then just before morning they'd pick up and come in like they were out there all night on location.

When I found out about it I told em they were all nuts because if we started getting hit at the base during the night they would have been the first ones shot once the flares went up cuz the guys on watch wouldn't have expected them to be there and would think they were gooks close to the wire.

and ya wonder why so many marines were killed by friendly fire.

they caused it to happen to themselves..

The guys flying weren't much older.

We used to call the pilots "The Rich Kids" because back then only rich kids went to collage.

Sorry to break your bubble but some of us " rich kids" were dirt poor. Some of us, however, were fortunate enough to pass the college GED [ with no actual college credits ] while in boot camp [ Parris Island ], pass the flight physical and the evaluation interviews and get selected to go to flight school as a Marine Aviation Cadet [ MarCad]. In my pre-flight class at Pensacola, there were 6 MarCads- 4 of us were prior enlisted [ Fleet Marines ] and the other 2 came from college [ Paper Marines- sorry about that]. MarCads- twice the pilot at half the price-ask Marion Sturkey. Semper Fi Joe H.

I know Joe, most were just rich kids though. We had all the respect in the word for all of them.

Update on Buck Simmons' Post Above

"Jim Bell and I were flying a Cobra during a medevac for a patrol out of Ross in my first week in country in July of 70. We were between Ross and Baldy, south of the Que Sons. We were shot down on our first pass and picked up by the 46 we were covering. After we took off and I as I was breathing a sigh of relief, we went right back down to get the wounded Marine. He had a sucking chest wound and he showed me right up front why the helicopters were there. Wounded as he was, he had a big smile and thumbs up for us as he came aboard. I had 10 minutes of pucker, but that Marine, his buddies and you lived with pucker every day." Buck Simmons

Buck told me about this mission on the day it happened. We were in the shower at Marble in the evening. He accurately went through each and every detail. Indeed, he paid a nice compliment to the '46 pilot. I never told him that I was the 46 pilot he was referring to!

Dear Ray,

Thanks for coming to get us that day. When I jumped out of the front cockpit, I stepped on a marker pointing to booby traps. Naturally, I only saw it after I crushed it and so could not tell where it pointed. We started taking fire from a tree line about 100 meters away, the same guys that got us during our pull out. We had to choose between taking fire in the open and running through an unknown booby trap. We took the third option, that being that our feet didn't touch the ground until we landed on your ramp.

Perhaps you remember how we used to smirk when the grunts would shoot out the window and then duck down behind the paper thin skin of the 46? Jim and I shot though the windows and ducked down behind that great bullet proof skin like anyone else.

I really thought we would die when you arced right down after take off to pick up the wounded guy. I don't have the courage to be a 46 driver or a grunt. I do remember the great big smile you had as wee ran to your bird. You seemed to say "look at the hot shot gun bird drivers now!".

Aren't you Smokey Norton of fame and legend? My wife, children and grandchildren and maybe my inlaws all thank you for coming to get us. May God bless you.

Buck

To Keep The Record Accurate

"Aren't you Smokey Norton of fame and legend?"

No, I am not. Smokey was my senior as he was a flight instructor at Pensacola when I was a student. I also had the honor of serving with him after my 'nam tour at MCAS Kaneohe.

We could be distant cousins, as my family tree dates back to John Norton who landed in Connecticut in 1620.

Finally, I am certainly not of "fame and legend!" I just did my job.

gunships to 46's

We Huey people are very proud of our bird. We are very aware of who ''went in''. I hope we covered you well. you 46 guys. you , as well as the grunts were our top concern. We were flying medivac one time and blew an engine and got a ride back to Marbel with you ( and a wounded) Thank you. ( the 53 that brought my bird back dumped it at the hanger too high up and drove the skids through the belly!!!!!) You ''Phrog'' guys are tough and respected. TV-4 ''Pied piper'' Huey Guns

We loved the skid kids too, you covered us good!

:)Thanks for all the adulation and kindness you give to us.

From the Huey and Cobra squadren members who had to spend all their time down on SKID ROW. 😎

Tom Knowles

reply to Tom

"Skid Row" wasn't bad for the Cherry Dueces or HML-167 !!! Pour me another 4 ozs of Scotch--and another 2 ozs for a chaser !! C U in Reno !!
Drippy

Yep we'll all meet in Reno!

flying the best

too bad those praising the huey and 46 didn't get a chance to fly a real helicopter. i flew in a huey from montgomery, al to cherry point once. i promised god that if i lived through it, i wouldn't ever do it again. long live the '34. took a lickin and kept on tickin.

George the 34 with PT-6 turbine engines kick a$$! I rode in the civilian version with Carson Helicopter in Pa.

George McKee

I did fly a real helicopter-- the H34D. My first squadron was HMM-161 in '66 and I selected to remain in country to fly with VMO-2. From a pilots point of view and MANY crew--the UH-1E was the best thing going. nuf said.

Tom Knowles

huey

and another one is brainwashed. i agree the s-58t can sure hack the load. and certainly everything after the hu-1c was a vast improvement in maintence per hour flown and in capabilities. i was graveyard maint foreman at lowe field ft rucker late sixties and early 70's and it was a snap to maintain the 90% availability required of the contract with the huey. i am just partial to the smooth flight of the 'ole '34. served with hmm-365 '64-'65 with over 180 missions in the 'ole dog.

Nomenclature: Winders???

Buck Simmons;25791 wrote: Dear Ray,

Thanks for coming to get us that day. When I jumped out of the front cockpit, I stepped on a marker pointing to booby traps. Naturally, I only saw it after I crushed it and so could not tell where it pointed. We started taking fire from a tree line about 100 meters away, the same guys that got us during our pull out. We had to choose between taking fire in the open and running through an unknown booby trap. We took the third option, that being that our feet didn't touch the ground until we landed on your ramp.

Perhaps you remember how we used to smirk when the grunts would shoot out the window and then duck down behind the paper thin skin of the 46? Jim and I shot though the windows and ducked down behind that great bullet proof skin like anyone else.

I really thought we would die when you arced right down after take off to pick up the wounded guy. I don't have the courage to be a 46 driver or a grunt. I do remember the great big smile you had as wee ran to your bird. You seemed to say "look at the hot shot gun bird drivers now!".

Aren't you Smokey Norton of fame and legend? My wife, children and grandchildren and maybe my inlaws all thank you for coming to get us. May God bless you.

Buck

Windows? At least in a CH-46A, it wasn't the window's or port holes I fretted about; it was the stub wings that contained all fuel that seemed to attract the outgoing fire of the recon Marines who were demanding a little pay back activity when leaving a hotly contested extraction zone.

Window's? You must be referring to the clear Plexiglas coverings that the stateside birds had installed in them at the Boeing plant. Those round pieces of clear plastic were all removed by one means or another soon after reaching d'nam. I suppose it may have been the extra weight and less strain on the T-58's, or maybe the reflection of sun to ground alerting NVA on the ground to our coming that they were removed but really; window's?

Their removal was just another thing that didn’t need spit shinned and thusly saved the glass cleaner for the hacks who actually thought they needed to see where they were going. Also, one more reason to 86 those "winders" was that they made fine bullet bouncers when fired on from within. Little things like that made the rest of the crew a little uneasy as one might expect.

Windows? didn't have no stinking winde'rs in my bird. 😀 They only served to block the clean phosphorous, cordite and napalm scented air that would clear out the redolent stink of the leaking hydraulics from the cabin as well as the occasional rancid nuoc mam sauce that some hapless but happy refugee NVA prisoner spilled on the decks.

Those open ports kept the bird smelling just like ...Wild Hickory Nuts!:p

One of my lighter stories and somewhat happy memories was while taking a break from Shinning Brass missions and while in Danang on a Milk Run, fully expecting to haul some famous USO people north for a Christmas Show at 3rd Mar Div [Heard it was gonna be Bob Hope and maybe Ann Margaret? One could only hope!] and having that mission scrubbed, [DARN the Luck!] we flew south to An Hoa to transport some grunts to Danang. I heard that they may be going home for Christmas. That softened the blow of not seeing Ann Margaret, Bob Hope or whom ever the USO folks were.

After picking up the full load of "grunts" from An Hoa nigh on Christmas of '67 and putting up with all of the usual loving and brotherly snide remarks they all made about "Air dales, swinging with the Wing and living on Easy Street pls some not too kind words describing kitty cats etc" , we departed for Danang in a flight of the usual division of two birds. I was in the trailing chopper. We were hauling fast, balls to the wall as many knots as we could muster and we were flying low, bobbing and weaving as we crisscrossed over the open flat paddy country. I was standing at my usual gun station, standing tall.crouched behind my 50 rocking back and forth, taking full advantage of the thick chest plate from a bullet bouncer I had wedged in my gun tub for protection [Of my Huevos Ranchero's] as we banked hard port and hard starboard so as to keep my 50 pointed in the general direction of the ground. The Horizon would appear then fly upwards then sink down again and I'd get a full view of the rice paddy’s and vill's below then we'd rise again to view the sky and the horizon. I'd hang on the spade grips of my 50 keeping watch, ready to push the Iron butterfly unleashing a hail of APIT destruction to anything in the way, all the while depressing the muzzle toward the earth until the gun stops prohibited the weapon's muzzle from shooting through the blades {Christmas Story hadn't been written yet and it was an attempt to keep us from shooting our eyes and ass's up.] as we went hard port. Then we'd rock or roll back starboard again as I's start depressing my muzzle toward the paddy’s until we again swung back to port. This drew a little good natured hazing from the troops on board until, Craaaaaaaaaaack! A bullet penetrated the deck mid way between the cabin and station 410. Later I discovered that t actually came up through the heavily armored Budweiser can tin floor, hit the rail and didn't penetrate the overhead. But to my amusement and the grunts chagrin, they all did what they were trained to do. They all, in unison, simultaneously as if choreographed, hit the deck belly down and all tried to crawl in or underneath their helmets. It was early evening and it was just a tad dark in the cabin but when I looked back over my right shoulder, all I saw were about 16 bright unblinking eye lights located slightly over the noses of those Marines laying on their belly's proned out on the belly of my bird. I couldn't return fire because I didn't see from where it came and below were many civilians and some V.C. water boo finishing up their daily rice growing tasks. I did manage a great big smile and thought out loud as I observed those Mud Marines looking to me for...maybe guidance maybe some glimmer of hope or what do we do now. If this were the usual recon mission, guns would be blazing from all the open ports and even some not so open. I’d be having a cow wondering what damage my bird was taking from friendly fire, but no, not a sound. “It was quiet…, too quiet” as they say in the movies. I thought out loudly as I smiled looking back at the sprawling melange of USMC, my brother Marines spread out flat on the deck…

''Hey wise ass's that is the last place you'll find me in a 46 taking fire from the ground, lying on the deck in the back of the plane; Man...ya know, Charlie don’t lead!"

As it were, no one was injured that day, no one died,..., well maybe some grunt egos went down the piss tube but of course, that didn’t mean a dang thing.

I hope they all got home safely and even better, I got to have a fine Christmas back at Phu Bai with my brother Air Dales and Swinging Wing mates of HMM 164.

Semper Fi to all

CH-46 windows

Windows? didn't have no stinking winde'rs in my bird

Me 'neither, not usually. Whenever one crashed and had a remaining window or two, I'd go get them and hide 'em. Come monsoon season they were worth their weight in beenie weenies!! WE were GLAD to have 'em then. Then we would school the recon teams and grunts NOT to lean back so far as to poke something through them, but, alas, it wasn't to be.....;)

Joe Reed;25914 wrote: Me 'neither, not usually. Whenever one crashed and had a remaining window or two, I'd go get them and hide 'em. Come monsoon season they were worth their weight in beenie weenies!! WE were GLAD to have 'em then. Then we would school the recon teams and grunts NOT to lean back so far as to poke something through them, but, alas, it wasn't to be.....;)

joe,

I just saw your post on a CH-46 site re: placement of the guns on the starboard side port behind the front hatch. You were absolutely right. No body ever mounted a M-60 or a Ma Duce in the front starboard hatch. They were probably thinking of the UH 34. Anyway that was the best place to test out unauthorized/confiscated weapons borrowed from Charlie. IE, M-79's, Thompson's and of course the infamous rumored M-67 grenade lodged in a mason "fuel" jar????

Every photo i have of my bird shows that it had no porthole or winder coverings in d'nam. The only one with windows is when she first came to d'nam and that was taken by Mr. Montoya prior to my arrival in June of '67.

I was just jesting and writing in my nom de plume mode of Sgt. Justin A. Jolknow when I was taking jabs at the "Windows" comment... Windows wasn't even invented by Bill Gates until '95.

S.F.

Chuck aka Justin A.Jolknow

Buck Simmons;25791 wrote:
Aren't you Smokey Norton of fame and legend? My wife, children and grandchildren and maybe my inlaws all thank you for coming to get us. May God bless you.

Buck

Capt. "Smokey Norton" was a Cobra Pilot after he flew 34's.