Meanwhile, 30mm rounds, RPGs and high-explosive rounds from the various cannons (not to mention bullets from the hundreds of infantrymen coming their way) were filling the air with hot lead and shrapnel. Doc could hear the other members of his team viciously returning fire. They were throwing hundreds of 5.56mm and 7.62mm rounds down the hill at the enemy, in a volume of fire that far exceeded the team’s limited number of personnel. Like most ODA teams, they were punching way above their weight level, and making the enemy pay for each foot of distance they traveled up the hill.
Lee looked over at Jordy. “Can you get us any more air support? We need them to place some bombs danger close, several hundred meters below us!” yelled Chucky to his tactical air combat controller.
Jordy was already on the radio to a flight of Marine F/A-18s, begging for air support. “We have troops in contact-multiple US Forces casualties and in danger of being overrun. Requesting all available air support,” he said frantically over the radio net to any fighter aircraft monitoring this frequency.
A new pair of F/A-18s heard the cries of distress. “We still have two 500 lbs. bombs each, and we will come in hot and heavy on the coordinates you provided.”
Another pair of A-10 Warthogs came over the net, saying, “We have a full load of bombs and we can assist.” Jordy vectored them in towards their position and warned them of the enemy anti-aircraft guns near the enemy airbase.
The F/A-18s came in first, hitting several of the armored vehicles and anti-aircraft vehicles and guns near the enemy airfield. When the A-10s arrived, they dropped a series of cluster bombs across the base of the hill and near their positions, obliterating the enemy soldiers advancing up the hill towards them.
While the A-10s were tearing into the enemy, one of the 25mm anti-aircraft guns stopped firing at the F/A-18s and took aim at the Warthogs. Within seconds, one of the A-10’s engines was riddled with 25mm rounds, causing the engine to explode. Black smoke billowed out of the aircraft as it banked hard to the left, trying to gain altitude and move away from the anti-aircraft gun. The Warthog continued to take hits, until the pilot realized that he would not make it if he stuck around and limped back towards home. The other A-10 did his best to rake the enemy positions with his 30mm chain gun and his remaining bombs before turning to home to escort his wounded comrade back to base.
While these attacks were taking place, they began to hear the familiar sound of helicopter blades beating against the air in their rhythmic thumping. Then, Jordy heard a call over the radio from the Cobra gunship pilots. “We are going to make a few quick passes to hit the enemy positions, so you can have cover to fall back to the LZ,” they told him.
CW4 Lee spoke into his mic. “Chunk-it’s time to blow those charges on the trees in our makeshift LZ.”
Seconds later, he heard a series of smaller explosions. Chunk came over the radio, chuckling. “The alternate landing zone is ready, Sir.”
Then, the pilot in the lead CH-53 came over the net. “We are on our final approach to the LZ,” he announced.
“Maverick, I need you to buy us some time to get the pilots on board the helicopters before you join us at the LZ. I want to blow the claymores if the enemy gets close enough. When I give you the signal to head to the helicopters, blow the claymores whether there’s enemy nearby or not. Got it!?” yelled Chucky as he got up and began to look for the pilots.
He ran over to Major Woods, who had the stomach injury, and began to pull him off the ground. Doc was helping Eagle Eye move to the LZ and a couple more of the wounded were also making their way to the CH-53K, which had settled down on the plateau they just cleared.
As the wind from the rotor wash hit Chucky’s face, he felt a sudden relief as he approached the back ramp with Major Woods on his shoulder. A Navy corpsman ran forward and assisted in taking the wounded pilot from him and began to assess his injuries in the helicopter.
Chucky sent the final message to Maverick. “It’s time. Blow the charges and beat feet back to the LZ!”
CW4 Lee couldn’t hear the claymores going off, but he saw a small cloud of smoke rise from their old positions, so he knew they must have gone off. Then, he saw Maverick come running over the hilltop towards them. The second CH-53K was still in a low hover a couple of hundred meters behind them; the door gunner opened fire on something he saw.
One of the Super Cobras flew in low and fast, firing off several 70mm anti-personnel rockets and using his nose gun on something. As Maverick made his way into the helicopter, the tail gunner let the pilots know they had everyone on board. The chopper immediately began to lift off and turn away from the Chinese positions and down the opposite valley.
The Cobras stayed behind for a few minutes longer, tearing into the enemy vehicles and positions below before a pair of Chengdu J-10s flew in and blew three of the four Cobras out of the sky. Before the J-10s could go hunting for the two CH-53Ks and the remaining Cobra, a pair of F/A-18s joined the fray, and the fighters took their fight high in the sky, allowing the rescue helicopters to escape.
Chief Lee took his helmet off and rubbed his hand through his sweaty, greasy hair with his right hand, still in a bit of disbelief that they had made it out. He was completely unaware of the enemy fighters in the area or the fact that three of the four Cobra’s had just been shot down. All he knew was that everyone in his team and the two downed pilots appeared like they were going to make it. They had been hidden behind enemy lines now for twenty days and accomplished multiple missions given to them. Now it was time to recover, rearm, and get ready for the next mission.
An hour later, their helicopter flew over the beachhead and they got a good glimpse of what was going on down on the ground. They could see the city had been hit hard during the fighting. It looked like the military officially had the logistics “gravy train” fully up and running. Ships were now docked and offloading heavy armor and other equipment, along with thousands of additional Marines. Their helicopter continued out to sea, until they arrived at the USS Iwo Jima. The chopper slowly hovered and then settled down on the deck. Several Navy members ran up to the ramp of the helicopter, along with several corpsman and stretchers for the wounded.
A Marine officer approached Chucky. “I’m Major George,” he said, extending his hand. “Are you Chief Warrant Officer Lee?”
He nodded. The Major guided him away from the helicopter to the tower and opened a hatch. Once they were inside, he turned and said, “Chief, Colonel Bigsby wants to speak with you in the operations room.”
“What about the rest of my team?” Lee asked, wanting to make sure they were taken care of.
“They are being escorted below to one of the SEAL team rooms. They can rest up in there for the time being,” Major George replied as he continued to lead Lee through the winding corridors of the ship.
When they entered the operations room, Lee could see they had a lot of maps up on the walls with the disposition of various enemy and friendly troops. Lee was still wearing his body armor and weapons when he walked in, so he looked a bit intimidating. He also had a three-week beard going and hadn’t showered in that time either, so he was sure he stunk to high heaven.
Colonel Bigsby walked towards Lee and extended his hand. “Well done out there, Chief. Your team did a bang-up job. I’ve been reading over your contact reports. Impressive. The Air Force was able to destroy a number of those mobile ballistic missile launchers before they could fire their missiles. Then you guys directed a number of airstrikes that prevented the KPA (and later the Chinese) from pushing my Marines off the beach into the sea. You guys saved a lot of lives,” he said, with genuine conviction and gratitude.