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Chickenhawk Robert Mason PENGUIN BOOKS PENGUIN BOOKS Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Books USA Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A. Penguin Books Ltd, 27 Wrights Lane, London W8 5TZ, England Penguin Books Australia Ltd, Ringwood, Victoria, Australia Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2 Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd, 182-190 Wairau Road, Auckland 10, New Zealand Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England First published in the United States of America by Viking Penguin Inc. 1983 Published in Penguin Books 1984 15 17 19 20 18 16 14 Copyright © Robert C. Mason, 1983 All rights reserved LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING IN PUBLICATION DATA Mason, Robert, 1942Chickenhawk. Reprint. Originally published: New York: Viking, 1983. 1. Mason, Robert, 1942- . 2. Vietnamese Conflict, 1961-1975-Personal narratives, American. 3. Vietnamese Conflict, 1961-1975-Aerial operations, American. 4. Helicopter pilots- Biography. 5. United States. Army-Warrant officers-Biography. I. Title. DS559.5.M37 1984 959.7041348 84-440 ISBN 014 00.7218 7 Printed in the United States of America Set in Video Times Roman Grateful acknowledgment is made for permission to reprint portions of copyrighted material that originally appeared in Newsweek, copyright Newsweek, Inc., 1965; The New York Times Magazine, copyright © The New York Times Company, 1966; and US. News & World Report, copyright ©1964 and 1966 by US. News & World Report. Map by David Lindroth Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Robert Mason was born in 1942 and grew up on farms in New Jersey and Florida. His boyhood dream of becoming a pilot was finally realized when he earned his private pilot's license prior to his graduation from high school. After studying at the University of Florida from 1960 to 1962 and then working at a variety of jobs for the next two years, he enlisted in the army in 1964. He flew more than 1,000 helicopter combat missions in Vietnam before being discharged in 1968. Chickenhawk: Back in the World, a sequel to this book, was published by Viking in March, 1993. Mr. Mason is married and the father of one son. "A hypnotic narrative" -The New York limes "Better than any movie about the war" -Boston Herald "Maybe Vietnam is best seen through a shattered helicopter windshield. Chickenhawk is one bloody, painfully honest, and courageous book:' -Martin Cruz Smith "When Mason flies, so does his book:' -Lee Lescaze, Washington Post Book World "Arresting, lean, cool, grotesque, telling" -Village Voice "More than any other writer, Mason has been able to capture the feeling of what it was like to be there:' -John Del Vecchio, author of The 13th Valley Author's Note This is a personal narrative of what I saw in Vietnam and how it affected me. The events all happened; the chronology and geography are correct to the best of my knowledge. The names of the characters, other than the names that are fatuous, and unimportant characteristics of all the persons in the book nave been changed so that they bear no resemblance to any of the actual people in order to preserve their privacy and anonymity. I'd like to put in an apology to the grunts, if they resent that term, because I have nothing but respect for them and the conditions under which they served. I hope that these recollections of my experiences will encourage other veterans to talk. I think it is impossible to know too much about the Vietnam era and its effects on individuals and society. Instead of dwelling on the political aspects of the war, I have concentrated on the actual condition of being a helicopter pilot in Vietnam in 1965-66. The events, I hope, will speak for themselves. I want to thank Martin Cruz Smith, Knox Burger, Gerald Howard, Constance Cincotti, Jack arid Betty Mason, Gerald Towler, Bruce and Susan Doyle, and Jim and Eileen Helms for their generous aid and encouragement. I am particularly indebted to my wife, Patience, for her unflagging support in difficult times, both in the writing of the book and in the life that it's about. Contents Author's Note 7 Prologue 17 I Virgins 1 Wings 21 2 An August Cruise 51 3 Setting Up Camp 70 4 Happy Valley 113 5 la Drang Valley 164 II Swave and Deboner 6 The Holidays 233 7 The Rifle Range 253 8 Bong Son Valley 280 9 Tension 321 III Short-Timer's Blues 10 Grounded 351 11 Transfer 371 12 La Guerrilla Bonita 400 13 Tell Me You're Afraid 434 Epilogue: And Then What Happened? 464 Prologue I joined the army in 1964 to be a helicopter pilot. I knew at the time that I could theoretically be sent to a war, but I was ignorant enough to trust it would be a national emergency if I did go. I knew nothing of Vietnam or its history. I did not know that the French had taken Vietnam, after twenty years of trying, in 1887. I did not know that our country had once supported Ho Chi Minh against the Japanese during the Second World War. I did not know that after the war the country that thought it was finally free of colonialism was handed back to the French by occupying British forces with the consent of the Americans. I did not know that Ho Chi Minh then began fighting to drive the French out again, an effort that lasted from 1946 until the fall of the French at Dien Bien Phu, in 1954. I did not know that free elections scheduled by the Geneva Conference for 1956 were blocked because it was known that Ho Chi Minh would win. I did not know that our government backed an oppressive and corrupt leader, Ngo Dinh Diem, and later participated in his overthrow and his death, in 1963.I did not know any of these facts. But the people who decided to have the war did. I did know that I wanted to fly. And there was nothing I wanted to fly more than helicopters. The experimental division authorized to try out [the air assault] concept is stirring up the biggest inter-service controversy in years. There are some doubts about how practical such a helicopter-borne force would be in a real war. Chapter 1 Wings The experimental division authorized to try out [the air assault] concept is stirring up the biggest inter-service controversy in years. There are some doubts about how practical such a helicopter-borne force would be in a real war. U.S. News & World Report, April 20, 1964 June 1964-July 1965 As a child I had dreams of levitation. In these dreams I could float off the ground only when no one watched. The ability would leave me just when someone looked. I was a farm kid. My father had operated his own and other farms, and a market, in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and West Virginia. When I was nine he started a large poultry farm west of Delray Beach, Florida. Here, in between chores, I daydreamed about flying to the extent that I actually built tall towers to get off the ground.By the time I started high school my father had switched from farming to real estate, .and we moved to town. In my junior year a friend, a fledgling pilot, taught me the basics of handling a small plane. The airplane was a vast improvement over my dreamy mechanisms. It worked every time. By the time I graduated, I had a private pilot's license. In 1962, after two years of sketchy attendance at the University of Florida, I dropped out to travel around the country. A year later, in Philadelphia; two very important things happened to me. I met Patience, my wife-to-be, and I applied to be a pilot candidate in the army. I thought I had finally achieved my goal of goals when I arrived at the U.S. Army Primary Helicopter School at Fort Wolters, Texas, in June 1964. I drove through the main gate. Helicopters flitted over the nearby mesas; helicopters crisscrossed overhead; helicopters swarmed everywhere. My companion, Ray Ward, craned his head out the window and grinned. He had also joined the army to fly helicopters. We drove up to a group of concrete buildings that looked like dormitories. A sign out front said WARRANT OFFICER CANDIDATES REPORT HERE. We were impressed. Having gone through basic training at Fort Dix and a month of advanced infantry training at Fort Polk we thought that all buildings in the army were World War II vintage, wooden and green. I stopped the car. "Hey, this is nice." Ray smiled. "Ask that guy where we should put our baggage." The guy he was referring to was walking quietly toward us, a sergeant wearing a white helmet and bright armbands. But we were no longer trainees and had no need to be afraid. "Say, Sergeant," I asked amiably, "where should we put our luggage?" "Luggage?" He flinched at the civilian word. Neither Ray nor I had on uniforms. "Uh, yeah. We have to check in before five, and we need a place to change into our uniforms." "You're candidates?" he asked calmly, quietly, with the ill-hidden contempt I had witnessed so many times before in basic training.