In March of 1967, there was a lot of action in the Binh Duong Province, in particular, a place known as the Ho Bo Woods. This area still contained large elements of the politico-military forces of the Viet Cong’s Region 4 Headquarters. This area was laced with tunnels and spider holes (camouflaged sniper holes that the VC used). There had been some heavy fighting in this area for the last 15 months, with no end in sight.  Basically, Charlie owned this piece of real estate. He made us pay dearly for every inch of ground we walked on or flew over. This was "Indian Country" and it was not a very good place to be flying alone on any mission. In this area they had discovered a very large underground complex that included a 3-story hospital and offices for the officers – which were all buried under the forest. This was one of those bad places where you could feel the fear creep up your spine and taste it in your mouth, any time you entered the area. It was a very nasty place to do your business in. I never looked forward to flying missions into or around this area.

On this morning, we had an early start before sunrise. We had been airborne for several hours, but were having a very difficult time locating anything below us in the darkness. When daylight broke over the forest we had to contend with a very thick ground fog that covered as far as you could see. Everything looked white, like a rolling cloud on the ground. You could not see the treetops in most places. We could not tell if there was an open area or tree that we were flying over. The few LZs inside the Ho Bo Woods were small clearings where GIs had cut down the trees or blown them up with explosives. So even the LZ's were no bed of roses. They all had tree stumps and fallen logs which forced you to hover your chopper a few feet off the group, so that the troops had to jump out. You also had to throw out the supplies.

We had been flying support for some elements of the 25th Infantry Division on this day. We were all alone and flying single ship supply missions mostly; fresh food and ammo for the ground troops. We had been concentrating so hard on watching out for Charlie that no one was watching our gas consumption. Needless to say, we had wasted lots of our fuel in a series of long searches, trying to locate where the troops were located.

It was still very early in the morning. The part of the forest we had been flying over was now completely engulfed with heavy thick fog. There was just no way we could carry on our present missions. We circled around to get our exact bearings and location. The pilots had become a little disoriented by the fog and by having no ground references to guide them. The fog level was not burning off, but was still slowly rising. It rose upwards to around 100 feet or more. Just enough so we could not even see the tree tops any more. The good news was that no one could se us either, so we were safe from any ground fire.

The bad news was that our fuel warning light had come on with its audio alarm sounding off. The light flashed on the instrument panel, as both pilots froze at once.  Neither one had any real clue to our present location or where our own troops where below us. We did not have enough fuel to make it out of the fog-shrouded forest.  We had no idea which way to turn the craft around to. All directions held a mystery. All the ground below us was hostile and forbidding. There was no right place to go. We were stuck in this twilight zone between certain death and the fog.
 
We had only about 5- 10 minutes of fuel left. It seems none of us really knew for sure, how much was supposed to be left when the fuel warning light came on. We did not know how much time we had before our aircraft would drop out of the sky into whatever waited for us below. If it were treetops, then our ship would crash and the rotor blades would thrash the trees and twist the body of the helicopter and those inside it. We knew what that would look like because we had seen one of our company ships do that same thing just the week before. That image played over and over again, inside my head.

The other possibility was that if we could crash land and survive, we would certainly be at very high risk of being captured or killed by enemy troops. It would a long time before anyone could find and rescue us. The fog would hide our aircraft for hours and no one would have any idea were we were – because we did not even know for sure ourselves.

All these thoughts ran through our minds. Our hearts were pounding, as if we had just run a long distance race and lost. I looked around, as I would normally do in this kind of situation, trying to figure out what I might need once we crashed.  I grabbed my M-16 rifle and some magazine clips. I wasn’t carrying any food or water. We did have lots of colored smoke grenades to use in case of a rescue attempt. But in this fog, no one would be able to see them at all.

The pilots had been in radio contact with our other company helicopters, but none of them were close by. That was assuming that our guess about were we were, was in fact, where we thought we were.

So even after we had given our mayday distress call, no one would be able to quickly respond.

Our fuel should have run out and we knew we were running on sheer luck. We did not fully understand why we had not dropped out of the sky yet. The fog was endless in all directions. There were just no openings anywhere to be seen. So I began to silently talk to God. Asking for his divine help. To find us someplace to land before we crashed into the Forrest below us.

We were mentally ready for the worse kind of crash. Not knowing what you were falling into gave you no preparation or defense against the certain destruction that came when the rotor blades tore the aircraft apart.

Then out of nowhere, just below us, where we had already looked before, there was a clear opening over a grassy meadow area. A perfect LZ to drop down into. We turn and lined up with the LZ just as the engine died, having consumed it’s last once of jet fuel.  The helicopter was less than 25 feet from the ground and the blades were still rotating with enough force that we did not drop very hard and there was no damage. A perfect landing, in fact.

I immediately jumped out of the ship as it hit. I took my weapon with me. Around the tree lined meadow we saw movement everywhere. Our helicopter was completely surrounded. The crew was all out on the ground and ready to defend us.  There was no way we were going to win this battle. We were completely out numbered and surrounded. Any resistance on our part would have been a death warrant for sure, so we just held our position and waited.

Then we began to notice the uniforms that they were wearing. They were elements of the 25th Infantry. By some unbelievable luck, we had dropped right on top of one of their small base camps. We couldn’t have been more blessed, if we had tried. Not only were we surrounded by our own troops but they also had a supply of jet fuel for our helicopter.

It was a strange experience and hard to explain. For example, why did this LZ just open up in the middle of many square miles of solid fog? Why was there a clearing at this spot waiting for us? Why hadn’t our helicopter run out of fuel prior to seeing this opening? Why had we not seen this opening before, when we were looking right in that same area?

It was a very lucky or blessed day, depending on how you viewed the events. Just good luck you might say, maybe? But then, perhaps other forces were at work. Maybe the power of a small silent prayer opened a big hole in the fog? I do not know for sure why it all happened as it did. I do know that I did not crash and no one was killed or injured – and that was good enough for me. I do not need any one to tell me that prayers do work – I believe.