As the whump, whump , whump of the helicopter’s slicing blades reverberated through my soul I sat with sweat running down may face and dripping steadily onto the its rapidly vibrating floor. This time it was real! This time it wasn’t a drill… a practice… a dry run! And I knew, just knew, that I might not live through it. And I was afraid, deeply afraid and trying hard not to show it to the searching eyes of my companions. We looked into each other’s faces, then quickly away. Each man wondering if those seated around him might be feeling the same fear he felt. Each wondering if he might be the only one feeling it. Quickly the lights of the city passed beneath the Huey’s rapidly turning blades.
The call from the forward observation team had come into HQ at about 300 hours. Most of us had been hard asleep for 2-3 hours, by 330 hours the decision had been made and we had been alerted. By 500 hours we were alongside our assigned “bird”. By 530 hours we had been briefed and were on board. At 545 hours we lifted off. Slipping across treetops, our pilots followed the terrain as closely as possible in the early dawn. At an altitude of what must have been about 500 feet or close to it we headed across the city. In the east the oranges, yellows, blues, and a few streaks red showed that the rising sun would soon be with us. Someone began passing around half sticks of gum. I needed it, my mouth was sticky dry.
The target was a terrorist cell leader known to have family connections in this area. In this South American country, we lived as construction workers with “company” owned Huey helicopters to help us get about. And most of the time, that is what we looked like, though not now. Not today. We had been assigned the task of finding this one man. The whole set up was for this one purpose. We all knew that if we nabbed him today… or killed him, we would be headed stateside within an hour or so. He represented a “clear and present danger” to our country and our host country. He had been assigned a task of coordinating the attempts to hit the upcoming World Cup soccer games. We had been assigned the task of stopping him. Just that simple.
Sergeant Grimes suddenly looked up at the crew chief. The sign of two thumbs up was given! The sergeant turned and tapped the knee of the man next to him. He gave the sign that our LZ was near by placing his right forefinger up against his nose. Each man then tapped the knee of the one next to him and looked to see that he was aware and ready to go. Each man in return signaled with a thumb up sign, then the flat palm down sign to show he was ready and steady. The crew chief appeared to be listening to something as he held his hand up against his earphones. Then looking up, he held up five fingers… we were five minutes out!
Our LZ entry was suddenly upon us! The Huey seemed to suddenly drop and then its nose came up and looking out we watched as the ground rushed up to meet us. The crew chief slapped Sergeant Grimes on the shoulder… when the veteran sergeant felt that it was safely low enough, he bolted out the door dropping quickly to a knee into a shooting position. All of us were out within 10-15 seconds…a well practiced maneuver perfected to perfection, almost two seconds per man. Behind us our Huey was already leaving as three others dropped in and left just as quickly. Now we were 32 men strong. Spread out in a semi circle, we began moving quickly to the south side of the LZ. Each eight man team had a job to do. Ours was to secure this LZ for everyone’s extraction. We spread out, two man teams ten meters or so apart and found cover to help us avoid detection. The other teams headed quickly into the small collection of nearby houses, each team assigned to a certain house. Everything was eerily quiet. A dog barked loudly near the closest home. The frequency of drug runners coming and going from the jungles in their helicopters had ensured that no one came out to look at us when our helicopters had suddenly appeared. Being too curious had often not gone well for the locals. These days no one dared look out when strange helicopters appeared in the night. This was something we had counted on.
The three teams disappeared from sight. We waited, sweat flowing, every unknown sound a possible threat! My eyes burned from the sweat. Remembering, finally, that I had a sweat band tucked into a pocket, I quickly donned it to help fight off the sweat. And we waited. Suddenly a stumbling bunch of figures were seen coming towards us! A coded word sounded from Corporal Smith! In a heartbeat an answer came back…the Alpha team was back, dragging two tied and shrouded figures! At least something had happened! Then the first shots were heard in the distance.
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My
memories of what followed next are confused. We were violently attacked. My
buddy, Jake, in a prone position on my left, was quickly wounded in the first
exchange of gunfire. Those next few minutes seemed to last hours! Jake was
crying out, dust and debris was filling the air around us as ripping lines of
automatic weapons fire and exploding grenades threw our world into a deafening
storm of activity! I remember the medic coming to Jake’s side, then falling as
he also was wounded. Then I was lifted into the air as something
exploded nearby! After that a foggy kind of darkness seemed to overwhelm me and
my vision clouded.
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“Well,
welcome back, soldier,” commented the smiling nurse. I had awakened to feel her
hands on my forehead. I soon learned she had been checking my bandages. As she
walked over to a nearby sink, my eyes followed her. That was when I saw the
small Bible on the bedside table. It was my Bible. I had carried it in my shirt
pocket. It had been a gift from my sister a couple of years ago. But now it
looked very different. It appeared to have gotten wet and somehow was
disfigured. Its cover looked dirty and part of it looked to have been burned a
bit. “That Bible probably helped to save your life,” she said. She had turned
from the sink and caught my gaze as I stared at it. “It has two pieces of
shrapnel embedded in it. They are probably from an exploded grenade. They would
have entered your heart if they had passed through,” she explained. Suddenly, I
felt sleepy and my eyes closed even though I tried to keep my focus, now on
her.
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Today,
I sit here in my office and from time to time I turn and look at that same
small Bible. It is now resting on my bookshelf under a glass cover, protected
from dust and curious little hands. It, and some occasional foggy dreams filled
with shouts and fuzzy images, are all I have in the way of souvenirs of the
worst day in my four years as an Army Ranger. Fortunately, my injuries
healed and today I coach high school football in a small North Florida town.
About once a year, Jake and I talk by phone and catch each other up on our
lives. We talk about our families and how good God has been to us. Last year,
Jake moved to Maine and is now pastoring a Methodist church there. We both are
thankful to God for Sergeant Grimes, who carried us each in turn to the safety
of a waiting Huey helicopter that fateful day. And for the medic, Slim Wilson,
who died that day trying to help Jake.There is a verse in that small Bible which says something like “No greater love has a man than this that he lay down his life for a friend.” Not sure if I quoted that correctly, but I understand its meaning.
Though I had carried my Bible in those days as a kind of good luck charm, it was Sergeant Grimes and Slim Wilson who taught me how to live by it. You see those two helped out at the local Army chapel when duty would allow them to be there. They always put the good of others ahead of themselves. They were men of faith. And as I hear the sound of my children playing down the hall, I am very thankful for that.
Cb
3/4/14
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