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Aviation History
1967
1967 - 0061.PDF
|,-Hr International, 12 January 1967 60-61 elv green jungle interspersed here and there with meadowsi , o'n ^s southern fringes paddy fields. The jungle swept uphd over, unbroken, the range of gentle hills along the western [nk of which the FAC was flying. The growth was veined by vers No movement or habitation was to be seen anywhere. ka scene was one of apparently perfect peace; it was im- hssible to think that there might be armed and hostile men, y weapon stores, down there. It was all reminiscent of a [ther grand, very green ducal park. [The illusion was shattered by the FAC, who reported that i his first passes over the target he had drawn ground fire. •e was passing details of the spot he wanted us to bomb, lentioning a loop in a river and the line of trees thereby. I'd like you to put your ordnance just inside that line of said the FAC. The directions meant little to me—I emd to have missed a vital sentence or two at the begin- Lg but the leader, now well ahead, understood the spot he leant. There was a very short discussion on the order m Ihich we'd drop our stores, and the direction of the first run . "We'll put bombs in first," the leader said, and I saw him a shallow dive in the reverse direction to us as we orbited lie area at about 3,500ft, just beneath the cloud. There was puff of smoke beneath him—the FAC's smoke marker—-and iien a larger cloud as his first bomb exploded. Then we were filing in, the afterburner banging on, and diving gently on the explosions, hitting 450kt as we passed the target, the Ircraft jumping as our first bomb went. "Tally on you," said le FAC. "You're clear." We were climbing up to circuit •eight, the g-suit inflating as we pulled up and my note- ad rolling on my suddently grotesquely fat Michelin Man's high. Collapse of stout party, however, as we rounded out at eight, and the balloon went flat. There was some R/T com- nt which I did not catch, but it was the FAC giving his orrections for the second bombing run. The first had overshot, sleek, low-drag bombs are best dropped in steep dives tarn 12,000ft or so; in the shallow dives from 3,500ft which he overcast dictated they are more difficult to place, and high- [irag bombs would have been better for this morning's strike. We saw the FAC then, crossing immediately over the target Jrea at well below our height. The Bird Dog gleamed against green and looked extremely vulnerable. I wondered fvhefher they were getting ground fire again but could see none. Neither had we seen any on our first run in. "Coming in from the east again." It was the leadship making his second GP bombing run. We saw him clear and were ^gain diving to lay our second bomb. Again there was the jolt we passed over the rising smoke and the sharp climb to psrbit height. "Just short three metres and off right by eleven," aid the FAC. I spared a thought for colleague Tom Hamill, the valiant FAC, as we caught a glimpse of them travers- ng the target yet again. Run "Put your napes between the smoke," he called again. The leader was diving in again for his napalm run, this time on a (leading different from his last, from north to south, the better confuse the Charlie with the gun if he had stuck around. POue off dry" was a cryptic comment from the FAC, spotting pnly one explosion from the two napalm bombs dropped—but that one explosion was an evil looking, burgeoning ball of ly fire engulfing trees. Then we were rolling and diving on i different heading still—lower this time, very low—for napalm does not demand the safety margins necessary with HE. We assed well below the FAC, who was still right over the target »rea. The treetops were very close and we were doing 450kt. My pilot did not release on this run, being momentarily ^sighted by smoke and coming out laterally displaced from p desired aiming point. But bombs or no, the terror quotient s the same and I would soon tire of the sight of treetops Quite so close. We went round again, taking yet another run-in heading for the second try. The aircraft jumped very notice- |ab'y as all 1,5001b of napalm—both bombs—went at once. Beautiful," said the FAC. "Right on the bull." The FAC, displaying some excitement for the first and only [w then reported a secondary explosion, apparently fired 7 the napalm. It looked as though there might be something here. was now time for gunnery before heading for home. The target was well covered with both white and oily smoke, dragging downwind. We watched it clear, partially, from circuit height. There were still plumes which served as markers how- ever. "Put it 50 over and 50 right of napes," said the FAC. We went down after the leader, even lower this time, the aircraft shuddering to the stutter of our cannon, seemingly about to collide with every next tree. "Let's have two passes in there." Again we went round, seeing first the FAC passing over the target and then the leader diving past him, shooting. "Real good shooting," the FAC remarked. "One more pass, that'll do it." Up and round again. "Where do you want us to fire this time?" the FAC was asked. "If the smoke's not in your way— just to the right of the smoke." Dive, fire, pull out, skim the trees, climb, swell like a puffer fish, deflate—yet this pulsating corset was cutting out the intense g fatigue I'd encountered on previous training sorties of this kind. But perhaps the shots of adrenalin were good, too—this was, of course" for real. We stood by for the FAC's BDA—battle damage assess- ment "You might have got something. Beautiful. Put some more 20mm on that secondary fire. Looked like a small ammunition cache." One more run, passing directly under the FAC again, who really stayed glued to the battered, smoky patch of jungle that we'd hit. "All right, thank you, a very good trip," said the FAC, "I can't see too much just now with all this smoke. I will take a look later in the day when all this has cleared, but you certainly got something down there." We climbed out and closed again with the leader, passing under him and then he under us, each visually checking the The napalm burst seen on page 59 grows into a plume of oily smoke
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