We had been in Khashuri almost a week. So far all of our missions had been hauling grunts, trash, and supplies from Kutaisi. The Hog drivers from the 45th fighter squadron had been flying some light CAS for the Georgian boots on the ground south of Tskhinvali, but so far everything had been relatively quiet. My Co-Pilot, Tommy, got the chance to swap some stories with one of their pilots yesterday during a run into the city. It sounded like the most action they had seen was a few small arms muzzle flashes from squabbles in the hills. Thus far it seemed like we were there just as a show of force. Contention in this part of the world is nothing new to the Georgian people. Intel so far suggested that this was just a local flare up between the insurgent forces to the north who wish to cause trouble, and the Georgian government trying to hold on to the land they considered theirs.
I was technically on 30 minute alert. Things had been pretty slow, so besides for making sure my gear was packed and the bird was fuelled and pre-flighted, we were mostly just bored. The weather outside was rainy and miserable; like it had been since we arrived. I was sitting in our makeshift bunkroom, really an army-issue tent and a few cots, playing cribbage and euchre with a few of the other pilots when Tommy ran in.
“Grab your gear and meet at the ready tent, we’ve got a pilot on the ground,” he said.
I jumped up quickly, scattering cards all over the cot. Running through the tent flap while snagging my helmet bag I asked, “What? How did he get shot down, I thought intelligence said there were only insurgents with small arms in the area?”
“I don’t know much, but it sounds like they must have gotten their hands on some MANPADS and AAA guns.”
Our Commander was waiting for us in the “ready tent.”
"Gentleman, as of 16:14 local we have a Hog pilot in need of extraction. He has been holding out in the forest northwest of Kornisi and Didi-Tsihiata. His aircraft was shot down by a shoulder-launched SAM this morning while running recon on insurgent movement in the hills around Tskhinvali. Apparently the insurgents have received supplies of IR MANPADS and light AAA guns and have been positioning them in the hills west of the combat zone, trying to catch our pilots by surprise. It need not be said that our pilot is in a world of hurt, and we need to exfiltrate him ASAP.
"His code name for the operation will be ‘Stray Eagle.’ He is equipped with his ELT, smoke and his sidearm. However, if it comes to confrontation we have no doubt he will be captured by the insurgents. We need to get to him before forces from the West and East can converge on his location. He is mobile but hunkered down awaiting rescue.
"Chevy 1 and 2, you will be running the pick-up. Chevy 1 will be primary. Your armament will consist of light machine guns. The rescue team will be on board by the time you hit the tarmac. Chevy 2 will be your light support armed with rockets and miniguns.
“Colt flight, consisting of two AH1 Cobras will provide air support for the pickup. Study the map, especially the suspected AAA positions then get to your birds. The clock is already ticking gentlemen.”
I bent over the map with Tommy. Charlie and Duke, the pilots of Chevy 2, leaned in as well.
“It looks like intel expects guns in every town. We’re going to have run this one low and fast. Swinging wide around the cities would be a good idea as long as it doesn’t put us too far off the pace.” Charlie suggested. I agreed, scribbled a quick map of the area up the river valley and North of Didi-Tsihiata, and looked at Tommy.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be. Let’s go, ‘Stray Eagles’ don’t last long cornered on the ground.”
Sure enough, the gunner crew and rescue team were already on board as we trotted through the chilly drizzle to our waiting Huey. Some may scoff at the fact that we were still flying a bird designed before I was born, but she was pulling her weight. She may not be the prettiest of girls, some would even say she looks a bit like a fat toad sitting on the ground, but I loved her. From the iconic “whup, whup” sound of the accelerating rotor to the impressive whine of the Lycoming turbine, she would sing me that sweet song of reassurance that she would get me home time and again.
With Chevy 1 in a ready state, it was only matter of switching on the battery and fuel and pressing the starter. Chevy 1 lumbered awake like a bear from a long nap.
I pulled her up into a quick hover check while 2 finished his start-up, and then lifted off behind me. “Dallas, Chevy flight departing North.”
“Roger, good luck. Bring our boy home.” Dallas FARP replied.
All systems green we smashed the lights and accelerated out over the city. I set the RadAlt to a max of 200 and a min of 50 for our run up the valley. Pulling the collective harder, I pushed the torque up to the read-line. We weren’t cruising today, I was going to squeak every last knot I could out of her.
Ahead, Colt flight took up an over watch position several hundred feet above.
Nearing Ahalsheni, we got a call from the ground on the FM radio. Stray Eagle had spotted us and would pop orange smoke to lead us to his position. Unfortunately that would also identify his location to the insurgents who were presently combing the hills trying to find him. We would have to be quick. I pushed the nose down a bit more and tried to squeeze a little closer to the red-line on the airspeed indicator. This was going to be close.
My plan had been to hug the river down through Ahalsheni on the East and then cross over past Didi-Tsihiata to the West. I dropped down to around 100ft and gave the door gunners the command to report any tracers and fire back. Chevy 2 pulled back and above a bit in order to get a better bead on anything audacious enough to point a muzzle my direction.
“Tracers, along the road!” Tommy yelled into the intercom.
Without thinking, I yanked Chevy 1 over into a sweeping left climb to outrun the bullets, then aggressively rolled over and pulled the nose down and right into the river valley. It is a good thing the door gunners were belted in. I heard one of them swear loud enough to be heard over the noise of the chopper. Nevertheless it worked. All of the rounds flew harmlessly by and I was quickly obscured by the hills. To his immeasurable credit Charlie followed my maneuver and dropped into the valley behind me. Meanwhile the radio lit up as Colt 1 and 2 started identifying and attacking AAA installations on the south side of the city.
“Smoke,” I said. “Does that look orange to you Tommy?”
“Affirmative, tally orange smoke north by the tree-line. Chevy 2 cover our approach, we’re going to get ‘Stray Eagle.’”
“I’ve got you in sight, I’m running out!” I heard Stray Eagle exclaim.
"Chevy 2. Hills, to the West. Insurgents. Looks like small arms fire. " The deafening roar of M60 machine gun fire rattled through the cockpit as my door gunners opened up on the insurgents drawn by the smoke marker.
“Hold on Tommy, we’re coming in fast,” I exclaimed as I zeroed the collective and dove toward the grassy tree-line. At the last second I yanked back on the cyclic and grabbed a handful of collective in order to snap the complaining helo into a low hover. The boots hit the dirt even before the helicopter had settled to the ground. I kept her light on the skids ready for a quick departure.
It must have only been 30 seconds, but I swear hours passed as I watched neon red tracer fire impact all around my bird. I wondered where all of the bullets I could not see were landing. Instinctively I hunched my shoulders and curled around my vital organs, willing the rounds away from my aircraft.
“All boots on board, Stray Eagle secured.” I heard the door gunner yell before raking another burst over the heads of the insurgents up the hill.
“GO, GO, GO!” Tommy screamed.
I pulled as hard as I dared on the collective, while simultaneously shoving the nose down. A little left pedal and I was blazing south with everything Chevy 1 had.
Colt had done well suppressing the fixed AAA guns, but there were still several defiant insurgents snapping off bursts. I elected to plunge back down the river valley and pop up well south of Ahalsheni.
As my dilated perception of time started to relax, I heard a relieved Texas drawl proclaim, “You Army dudes are insane! I swear I could’ve stuck my hand out and picked the flowers, we were flying so low!” Stray Eagle had apparently maintained his sense of humor while hiding under some grub infested log.
“If you didn’t enjoy the rollercoaster, we invite you to proceed back to the embarking area for a refund on your ride ticket,” I grinned back at him.
As we neared the outskirts of Khashuri, I flipped the lights on and allowed the helicopter to float up to around 500ft as I decelerated.
Colt flight checked back in as well as they crossed the city. “Dallas, Chevy and Colt flights returning with Stray Eagle secured.”
Muffled cheers rang in the background as Dallas replied. “Roger, Chevy and Colt flights cleared to land on the helo pads. Good job everyone.”
I plopped my Huey down on the pad closest to the command tent. Not my best landing, but I’ll give myself a pass on this one. It was hard to disguise the slight shaking of my hands as my adrenaline drained away and exhaustion set in.
The medics rushed out, gathering “Stray Eagle” from the rescue team, whisking them all away to the command tent. I let out a sigh of relief and elation, nodding my head back against the seat back for a moment.
I was glad to be back on the ground and took my time shutting things down.
Somehow the rain didn’t seem as bleak or as cold as we disembarked.
