BRIDGES AND STUNTS
Between Tuy Hoa and Qui Nhon, inland a ways beside a convergence of streams and rivers lays a small village. This village made charcoal in the surrounding hills, like so many "mini mines". A very peaceful village, as Nam villages go – grass huts, a dirt road, you know the type. This one was out in Indian country though.
What made this village special was that a railroad ran next to it. You remember those narrow gauge tracks, just tracks, patiently waiting for the train that never comes. Just down the dirt road a piece, not far, lay the main paved road. I believe this road went up to Pleiku, winding its way thru the mountains and mist.
Anyway, where the roads met lay the river. Now, the river was one of those lazy rivers, so common to Viet Nam. It was close enough to the mountains so the river still had sandbars, no mud flats and still was kinda clear. The road and the railroad crossed this small slice of paradise on a high arching bridge, two of them, one for the road, and one for the railroad.
Now helicopter crews, being the thrill seekers and easily bored souls that, by their very nature they are, saw a challenge. It was soon said in the 129th assault helicopter company (and I am sure the same was said in the 61 AHC and the 498th Medivacs), that if you didn't fly under the bridge spans, you weren't shit.
Now, by the time I had arrived in country, one of our birds had already crashed trying this stunt, as the arches were very close together. Seems they clipped a rotor blade on one of the spans, crashed, and burned. Word came down, NO ONE, and they meant NO ONE, was to try that crap again.
(Shrug), we know the difference between official policy and "real world" policy. A good ole boy wink usually does the trick. With a butt-hole factor of 10, we did it.
Sadly, I was with this same pilot later on when we pulled some more crazy stuff, lost the aircraft in the South China Sea, and he ended up having his wings taken away... but that's another story.