Retreat, Hell! Part 42

"And you can talk to him?" McCoy asked.

"No problem."

"How are we fixed for fuel?"

"Not well. No matter where we go, we'll have to refuel first."

"Okay. Let's go."

Donald started for the helicopter.

McCoy turned to MacNamara. "MacNamara, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Trying to get to Wonsan."

"You're not going to get there on this road," McCoy said. "It ends at a lake-no ferry-about three miles from here. I'll leave one of my men with you, and he'll get you onto a road around the lake."

"Thank you," MacNamara said. "I appreciate that."

"I owe you," McCoy said. He put out his hand and then trotted to the helicopter.

Before he got there, an Air Force F-51 flew over them, very slowly.

When McCoy climbed into the c.o.c.kpit, the voice of the F-51 pilot was already coming over the headset.

"Road Service, Air Force three oh seven. I have you in sight. How do you read?"

McCoy grabbed the microphone.

"Air Force three oh seven, this is Army four zero zero three."

"Zero zero three, are you the black helicopter on the ground?"

"Air Force three oh seven, can you contact the aircraft carrier Badoeng Strait Badoeng Strait? They're operating in the Sea of j.a.pan."

"I don't know. Who is this?"

"Please call the Badoeng Strait. Badoeng Strait. Let me know if you get through." Let me know if you get through."

"Who is this?"

"A friendly word of advice, Air Force three oh seven- do what I ask, and do it now."

"Stand by."

There was a sixty-second wait, and then: "Negative on contact with the Badoeng Strait. Badoeng Strait."

Major Donald was now sitting beside McCoy. He put his hand out for the microphone, and McCoy gave it up.

"Three oh seven," Donald ordered, "climb to ten thousand and try it again on the emergency frequency."

"Stand by."

This time the delay was on the order of four minutes, which gave Donald time to fire up the H-19A.

"Army four zero zero three, Air Force three oh seven is in contact with the Badoeng Strait. Badoeng Strait."

Donald handed McCoy the microphone.

"Air Force three oh seven, stand by to relay message to Badoeng Strait. Badoeng Strait. Message follows: 'For Colonel William Dunn. Bingo. Killer. Heads up. En route.' Got that?" Message follows: 'For Colonel William Dunn. Bingo. Killer. Heads up. En route.' Got that?"

"Got it. Stand by."

This time the wait was less than sixty seconds.

"Army four zero zero three, Badoeng Strait Badoeng Strait acknowledges. " acknowledges. "

"How are you fixed for fuel?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Could you fly cover for us for a while?"

"Affirmative. I have one hour fuel aboard. Who are you?"

"Thank you, Air Force three oh seven. We're taking off now."

McCoy turned to Donald and made a lifting motion- take it up-with his hands.

Then he said, "Oh, s.h.i.t!"

Donald took his hands off the controls and looked at McCoy.

"I told MacNamara I'd leave him somebody to get him on the right road," McCoy said.

He leaned between the seats of the c.o.c.kpit so that he could shout into the pa.s.senger compartment.

"The Army's lost," he called. "Leave two men and a map behind to get them on the road around the lake."

Sixty seconds after that, two men in black pajamas got out of the H-19A and ran just far enough away so that Donald could see them. When he did, the H-19A lifted off.

[THREE].

USS BADOENG STRAIT BADOENG STRAIT (CVE 116) 37.9 DEGREES NORTH LAt.i.tUDE 129.59 DEGREES EAST LONGITUDE THE SEA OF j.a.pAN 1305 14 OCTOBER 1950 (CVE 116) 37.9 DEGREES NORTH LAt.i.tUDE 129.59 DEGREES EAST LONGITUDE THE SEA OF j.a.pAN 1305 14 OCTOBER 1950.

Lieutenant Colonel William Dunn, USMC, still in his flight suit, had been on the bridge ever since the captain had sent for him after getting the cryptic message from Air Force three oh seven on the emergency frequency.

"Bridge, Radar," the squawk box announced.

"Bridge," the talker replied.

"We have a slow-moving aircraft at a thousand feet at fifteen miles heading three hundred degrees."

"Acknowledged," the captain responded personally. "Keep me advised."

The captain turned to Colonel Dunn.

"That's probably your helo," he said. "Who else would it be?"

"Sir," Dunn said, "it just occurred to me that an Army pilot probably has never made a carrier landing."

"Why the h.e.l.l is he coming here?" the captain asked, and then without waiting for a reply, ordered: "Turn into the wind. Prepare to recover U.S. Army helicopter." Then he had another thought, and issued other orders. "Engine room, full astern. Flight deck, make all preparations for a crash landing."

"Turn into the wind, aye, aye, sir," the talker parroted into his microphone. "Prepare to recover U.S. Army helicopter, aye, aye, sir. Engine room, full astern, aye, aye, sir. Flight deck, make all preparations for a crash landing, aye, aye, sir."

There was immediately the sound of a Klaxon, and another voice on the squawk box: "Make all preparations for a crash landing. Firemen and Corpsmen, man your stations. Make all preparations for a crash landing. Firemen and Corpsmen, man your stations."

Then another voice on the squawk box.

"Bridge, Radio."

"Bridge," the talker replied.

"We are in radio contact with Army four zero zero three on Emergency Frequency One."

"Acknowledge," the captain said.

"Acknowledged," the talker parroted.

The captain turned to a small control panel near his seat, moved several switches, and picked up a microphone.

"This is the captain of the Badoeng Strait, Badoeng Strait," he said.

"Good afternoon, sir," the speaker replied metallically.

"Have you ever made a carrier landing?"

"No, sir, I have not."

"Jesus Christ!" the captain softly said to Dunn, and then pressed the microphone b.u.t.ton again. "I'm going to turn you over to Colonel Dunn, who is a highly experienced carrier aviator. I'm sure he'll be able to help you."

He handed the microphone to Dunn.

"Army zero three," Dunn called, "what we're doing now is losing headway-losing speed-so that the deck, which will be your runway, will be moving as slow as possible. You with me so far?"

"How slow is 'as slow as possible'?" Major Alex Donald inquired.

"Just fast enough to maintain what we call steerage-way, " Dunn said. "You'll hardly notice that it's moving at all. But we can't stop a ship this large right away. Have you enough fuel to circle around for a couple of minutes?"

"Affirmative," Donald replied.

"And you won't have to worry about the wind, either. The ship will be heading into it."

"Okay."

The captain issued another order.

"Engine room, make turns to maintain steerageway."

The talker repeated the order.

"Badoeng Strait, can I fly over the deck? Approaching from the back end, into the wind?" can I fly over the deck? Approaching from the back end, into the wind?"

The captain raised his eyebrows in exasperation, then nodded.

"Permission granted," Dunn said.

The H-19A approached the Badoeng Strait Badoeng Strait head-on. head-on.

"I thought he said he was coming in over the 'back end'?" the captain said.

When the H-19A was several hundred feet from the ship, it veered to its right and flew down the length of the carrier at about the height of the flight deck. Dunn and the captain could see the pilot looking at the ship.

When the H-19A was several hundred feet aft of the ship, Donald turned it around and then flew toward the stern, carefully adjusting his speed to that of the carrier, so that he was moving very slowly toward the deck.

"Jesus Christ, look at that!" Donald's voice came over the radio. "The whole f.u.c.king fire department's waiting for us."

It was clear to both Colonel Dunn and the captain that the pilot of the helicopter believed his microphone switch was in INTERCOM rather than where it was, in TRANSMIT.

Neither officer felt this was the appropriate time to bring the pilot's error to his attention.

"Don't f.u.c.k this up, Alex," another voice said, one Colonel Dunn recognized as that of Major Kenneth R. "The Killer" McCoy, USMCR.

"I have no intention of f.u.c.king this up," Donald said.

The exchange caused snickers, chuckles, and several laughs from officers and sailors on the bridge and elsewhere on the ship.

The amus.e.m.e.nt on the bridge was instantly stilled when the captain said, "Knock that off!"

The H-19A was now over the aft edge of the deck, thirty feet above it. It inched down its length.

When it reached the bridge, on the superstructure called "the island," both the captain and Colonel Dunn could see the men in the c.o.c.kpit. And vice versa. Major McCoy recognized Colonel Dunn and waved and smiled at him.

"Jesus H. Christ!" the captain said.