…exactly 50 years ago today

Landing at Pope AFB, NC, a couple of days later was a very happy time. It was happy for the Raiders and for all the people awaiting us: family, friends, and the Army support personnel there to process us back into our normal world at Ft Bragg.

In fact, for me personally, that is the most memorable moment. It was not the training or the day of the launch or the landing at Son Tay. For me, it was the landing at Pope AFB. I will never forget what I witnessed that day. I was a single guy, so a couple of my buddies came to pick me up. But, standing there on the flight line, when I looked around at the men unloading from the airplane and I saw their wives and children running out to meet them, it really hit me.

The Bull had warned us that we had a 50/50 chance of not coming home—a 50/50 chance of this moment never happening. If there had been a security breach, it was unlikely that we could have been rescued. These warriors had laid their lives on the line to rescue fellow warriors.

Read the Raiders’ stories, in their own words, and see more photos in Who Will Go.

Click Here:  The book.

Friday November 20th, 1970

…exactly 50 years ago today.

We were awakened at 6am, had breakfast, and went about our morning as normal.

We were told to be at the mess hall at 11am, a little earlier than normal lunch. During lunch, we were told to go to our barracks immediately after we finish eating and get some sleep. To ensure we got sleep, LtCol Joe Cataldo, our doctor who would be going on the mission and into the compound with us, required every one of us to take a sleeping pill as we exited the mess hall. As we walked toward the barracks, the old timers explained that they had never had to do that before. It was pretty clear that this would be the night.

I spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the compound and talking with other raiders about what they thought was going on. The time passed very slowly that afternoon.

By 5pm, everyone was awakened from our bunks and told to get to the mess hall for dinner then meet in the Theater at 1800 hrs.

By about 1730, we started filling the Theater. You could tell everyone was getting pumped for what we were about to learn. Everyone was talking and making guesses. By this time, we all knew we are going on some kind of rescue mission. We just didn’t know the when, the where, and the who.

At 1800, the Bull and LtCol Sydnor walked on the stage. The room got dead silent when the Bull began to talk. Bull was a man of few words. The briefing Theater was a short walk from our barracks. Inside, it had rows of simple wood seating like 2×10 boards on short metal poles—no seatbacks. It would seat around 100. There was an elevated stage with a screen. We had watched a movie there just a couple of days prior.

Bull reveals a large map (it was the area around Hanoi) and says,

“We are going to rescue 70 American Prisoners of War, maybe more, from a camp called Son Tay. The target is 23 miles west of Hanoi.
This is something our American Prisoners of War have a right to expect from their fellow soldiers. We are all part of the same military family. We want these men to know that they are not abandoned by their military family. No man should feel that way. That’s why we are going in there after them.

“You are to let nothing–nothing–interfere with the operation. Our mission is to rescue prisoners, not to take prisoners.

“If there’s been a leak, we’ll know it by the time the second or third chopper sets down. If we’re walking into a trap, if it turns out that they know we’re coming, don’t even dream about walking out of North Vietnam—unless you’ve got wings on your feet. We’ll be 100 miles from Laos. It’s the wrong part of the world for a retrograde maneuver. If it happens, I want to keep this force together. We’ll back up to the Song Con River if we have to and, by God, they’re welcome to come across that damned open ground. We’ll make them pay for every foot across that sonofabitch.”

For about four seconds, you could have heard a pin drop. Then, like a cannon shot, everyone bursts out, shouting, whooping & hollering, slapping each other on the back, raring like broncos, yelling “Let’s go get ‘em!”

Read the Raiders’ stories, in their own words, in Who Will Go.

Click Here:  The book.

Tuesday November 17th, 1970

…exactly 50 years ago today.

Tuesday November 17th, they loaded us up in covered deuce-and-a-halfs and drove us to a larger landing field, the main airfield of Eglin AFB. We unloaded inside a large hangar. Inside that hangar was a C-141 Starlifter, which we boarded. I remember, the seats were like those on civilian planes, except they faced the back of the plane. We still didn’t have a clue as to where we were headed. We all joined in singing the John Denver chorus, “I’m leavin’ on a jet plane. Don’t know when I’ll be back again.” In this case, it was so true.

It was a long flight. We landed in California (we were told it was California–it was actually Washington State) to refuel but had to stay on the plane.

The next place we landed was Alaska. We were allowed to unload while they refueled our plane. A few of us went outside for few minutes, but it was so damn cold and we were not really dressed for winter weather. We had just come from 75-degree temperatures wearing our jungle fatigues.

Our uniforms were sterile—there was no military rank or anything that identified us as US Army soldiers. We didn’t wear our Green Berets—only our regular Army head gear.

On these flights, we had an serious craps game going on. I believe it was Sgt 1st Class Leroy Carlson who converted a cardboard box into a craps table. Talk about a floating craps game!

Our next landing was Japan, but we had to stay on the plane.

The next stop would be our final location–we were not told where.

Read the Raiders’ stories, in their own words, in Who Will Go.

Click Here:  The book.