Back in the day...

Gather 'round, friends, and I'll tell a tale of how I almost died in an embarrassing way.

I was a young stud in the 25th Infantry Division, serving as my platoon's RTO.

And so it came to pass, we deployed to Korea for Team Spirit '87.

Team Spirit was a HUGE biennial exercise with US and ROK forces for the defense of South Korea.

And so it came to pass, one major part of our exercise involved my little platoon taking part in the largest air assault mission since Vietnam.

The 25th ID, supported by elements of 8th Army and 2nd ID, airlifted an entire brigade of light Infantry in one lift. It was massive.

And my platoon leader and I were on the very lead helicopter of the lift.

Now, the UH-60 Blackhawk, which we were riding in, normally seats 11 fully equipped troops. The seating configuration is 4 seats along the back wall of the troop compartment, 4 seats forward facing back to the rear, and 3 seats forward back to back with those.

A smart platoon leader (which mine *usually* was) would sit along the back wall of the troop compartment by the door, because it gave the best situational awareness. But on this day, LT O, for some damn fool reason sat in the middle of the forward three seats.

As his Radio Telephone Operator, I had to sit next to him. I was never more than 2 feet from him ever. That was my sole purpose in life, to provide him the link that the radio gave us to company, and all the love and support Big Army could provide.

So I'm sitting in the forward seat of a Blackhawk. My radio is in my Alice pack, which, as per normal operations, we've taken off our backs, and strapped across our chests for the chopper ride.

Eventually, our really huge and totally for show air assault arrives at the Landing Zone. Which, this being 1987 Korea, in March, is a frozen over rice paddy, of course.

Having landed, it's time to expeditiously unass the bird.

But, with the tight confines of the front seat, and the bulk of about 90 pounds of rucksack strapped to my chest, it's not quite that easy. Turns out, the only way to get out is to back out. And that's when things started to go sideways.

The seats on a Blackhawk are aluminum pipe frames with nylon sheets, braced by wires.

As I'm backing out, with my dead cat like agility, I managed to get one foot entangled in the wires and fall out of the Blackhawk backwards, with my leg still firmly trapped in the bird.

And having landed in a rice paddy with about a half inch of ice over a few inches of water, found myself both stuck to the Blackhawk, *and* as an added bonus, my head submerged and pinned down by my rucksack, which very conveniently slid up over my face.

And of course, having my breath knocked out by the impact of my fall, I aspirated a shitload of rice paddy water.

BTW, you know what Koreans fertilized rice paddies with back then? Night soil. Which you and I call human shit.

So, my normally very bright Platoon leader is pulling like hell on the H-250/U radio handset and not able to grasp why I'm not following along, which keeps pulling the rucksack further over my head. Meanwhile, the very helpful crew chief on the Blackhawk...

Is, instead of reaching down and freeing my boot from the bracing wire, is instead kicking at my boot to free me, and painfully inflicting injuries to an ankle that's going to spend the next two weeks humping over hills in Korea that would make a billy goat puke.

Other than that, it was a pretty nice day.

Comments

[Bill Brandt]

You can think of that as either a lousy day or a great day. In the lousy column: You almost drowned in some shitty water. On the great column: You lived to tell about it.

[Pupster]

I guess stealth was optional on this mission?

[7711C20]

You would of liked it in 1978 it was a dry year and the paddys were all dry. I was in a 4.2 platoon so we got to drive everywhere. There were piles of rice straws all over the place which we decided to use to line the bottom of our shelter half tents. Found out that night it had the secret ingredient. I can still see the ROK air force still using F-86s zipping around the valley.

[Paul L. Quandt]

1986 was also a largely dry year for Team Spirit. As I was in the CalARNG, we only got to play for three weeks. I, too, was an RTO, but as we were with a mech infantry bn, I was riding, not walking ( mostly ).

Thanks for the post.
Paul L. Quandt

[timactual]

I deeply sympathize. I, too was an RTO at one time, but never had anything like that happen. Most trouble I had was trying to get out of a CH-34 expeditiously with that PRC-25 on my back. There is only one door on a CH-34, and it is quite small. Every time I tried to hop out that damn radio would hit the top of the door and knock me back inside. I just couldn't seem to squat low enough.

I am puzzled. Why did you carry your pack on your chest? Was it to use a seatbelt? That is certainly after my time.

[Esli]

My first Huey ride (I was an RTO, too), involved me with my ruck in my lap and unable to find the seatbelt when we landed in the dark. Seconds later, the door is open and my side is empty but for me holding my ruck up and fumbling blindly for my seatbelt with the other. Finally, the crew chief gets out, comes over and takes my ruck so I can unbuckle. I grab the ruck, run out into the dark and throw my ruck on the ground and jump to knee and then into the prone. As I do, someone cries out in pain because I kneed them square in the back. Turns out it was my PSG, who was complaining in the morning that "somebody" had thrown their ruck on him and then kneed him in the back. Fortunately, nobody knew the real story. And, yes, the seatbelt was one of those ridiculously simple old Huey seat belts.

[timactual]

I used to love riding in Hueys. It can be especially interesting when all those silly safety rules are "relaxed" for operational reasons. We once used a single-ship LZ that was just a large crater on the side of a steep hill. The Huey would balance with the front of its skids on the downhill lip of the crater. The rotor blades were actually below ground level in the uphill part of the crater.