Vietnam II: A War Novel Episode 3 (V2) by C.R. Ryder Page B

              8
    Yak-40 Codling                            11
     
    Helicopters
     
    ATTACK                                          20
    Mi-24 Hind                                          20
     
    TRANSPORT/SUPPORT              30
    Mi-6 Hook                                          5
    Mi-8 Hip                                          25
    UH-1H Iroquios                            UNKNOWN
     
    It might not look like much, but they had inflicted so many losses on Navy aviators that the Navy developed the United States Navy Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor program, Top Gun, to deal with the Vietnamese Air Force alone.  Sure, much of the Vietnam War was fought in the jungle and it was easy to forget a lot of it was fought in the air.  Our records show the Vietnamese were very good in the air.
    Really good.
    Army Lieutenant Colonel Elway, our resident historian, dug up some numbers for us.  I can’t tell you how useful this guy was.  This was pre-internet and nobody wanted to spend all day in a library.
    Except him.
    Seems the Old North Vietnam Air Force did not have a complete squadron until 1964. By the next year they were inflicting losses on the old F-105s.  Then the Russians gave them the then new MiG-21 and things got a lot worse for the American pilots.
    By the end of the war, we lost over 2000 aircraft.  The Vietnamese only lost 131.  Air to air the Americans produced three aces in during the entire war.  The Vietnamese had seventeen.
    They ended V1 with the most successful air force in history only behind America, the Soviet Union and Israel.
    Now we were about to face them again.  Of course we had new fighters like the Strike Eagle and the Fighting Falcon on our side this time.  I hoped that would make a difference.

Boatswain’s Mate Ridley Ford
    USS Missouri
    Gulf of Tonkin
     
    The storm pounded the Missouri.  We were seventy five miles off of the coast in deep water when it hit.  It was too late to make a run to the Spratly Islands to hide.  We were just going to have to ride it out.
    A lot of guys got sick.  I didn’t and I was proud of that, but I felt like I would at any moment.
    I went to my bunk thinking that laying down might help.  I must have drifted off to sleep for an hour or so.  When I woke up old Bella was standing over me.
    He was eating a big stick of pepperoni and farting in my face.
    “Get up!”  He said poking me in the chest.
    “I don’t feel good.”  I tried to roll over.
    “We’re gonna drill.”
    “There’s a fucking hurricane.”
    “Typhoon.  You can’t have a hurricane in the Pacific asshole.”  Bella shook me.  “Best time to drill is when shit is going down.”
    “I just want to sleep.”
    “I’m serious.”  His tone changed.  “Captains orders.”
    “Shit,” I half climbed, half fell out of my bunk.
    “Come on Riddle.  We’ll make a sailor out of you yet.”  Bella said shaking the pepperoni in front of my face.  Now I have to tell you Bella did not smell good an average day.  If this guy ever showered I had not witnessed it.  Grease and body odor was all that held this guy together.  Now add to that a hunk of meat that smelled like it had turned.
    The smell of that meat was too much. 
    I vomited all over Bella and myself.
    Bella lit a cigarette and laughed. 

Staff Sergeant Gerald Zachary
    Texas National Guard
    Andersen AFB, Guam
     
    The weather is horrible.  We evacuated twice last night for tornado sirens.
    Everyone is taking it as a bad sign.
    The typhoon grazed Guam and was headed for Vietnam.  The deadline was in less than forty eight hours and one look told us nothing was moving for a while.  The planes were gone.  They had evacuated everything that could fly.  What couldn’t get in the air