The Ravens: The True Story of a Secret War Read Free Page A

Army had insisted that any FAC working fighters near troops be fighter-qualified himself, believing that such a pilot would be safer and more competent. It was the Army’s illusion that the Air Force would respond to this requirement by filling all the FAC slots with old-time combat-experienced fighter pilots. Instead, the Air Force took the young FAC, gave him eighty hours of flying time in a fighter, trained him in fighter-weapons delivery to give him an idea of what it was like to deliver ordnance from a high-performance airplane, and then declared him fighter-qualified. At first the FACs were trained in Phantom F-4s, but the expense proved to be prohibitive, so they were relegated to T-33 Shooting Stars, the cheapest jet fighter-trainer available. Pilots thus qualified were ‘A’ FACs, the only group allowed to direct ordnance near American troops. ‘B’ FACs were not required to be fighter-qualified, but could direct ordnance near South Vietnamese, Korean, or Australian troops. It is unlikely the Allies were aware always of these distinctions.
    Survival schools came next. At water survival in Homestead, Florida, a pilot learned what to do if he was shot down over the ocean and was left to bob on the waves in a one-man boat. Scooped from the sea, the FAC was sent to Fairchild Air Force Base, Washington, where he was subjected to interrogation in conditions replicating a North Vietnamese prison camp.
    After Fairchild he was sent to the Far East for the final and most challenging survival training - Snake School. This was the Jungle Survival School in the Philippines. There were lessons in recognizing edible and inedible jungle roots and berries, how to deal with the sort of medical problems that might be encountered, and E&E - escape and evasion. (One instructor urged his students to imagine themselves as so much 10-weight motor oil, effortlessly slipping downhill through grass.)
    Clear distinctions began to emerge among the pilots during the courses at the various survival schools. There were those who treated the whole thing as a prank, something to be endured and shrugged off, while others went through each stage of the training as if their lives depended on it. The second group began to take pains, almost without knowing it, to distance themselves from the first. War was still only a word to all of them, but there were those who intended to be fully prepared when it became real.
    Once in Vietnam there was one final step before being allowed to join the war - the in-country checkout at FAC-U (FAC University) in Phan Rang, headquarters of the 14th Air Commando Wing. A combat tactics instructor sat in the back seat on the local area checkout rides. The FAC would be given a set of military grid coordinates - two letters and six numbers, which came over the radio in the form ‘X-Ray Uniform 436457’ - check his map, fly to the area, and orbit. He would then stand by to receive a ‘two-ship’ (pair) of fighter-bombers. Once the fighters arrived, the pressure was enormous. Handling the radio traffic alone would fray the average man’s nerves to breaking point: the FAC maintained constant radio contact not only with the airborne command post but with the unit on the ground and each of the individual fighters. In a large operation he might be talking to a couple of other FACs as well and to as many as five sets of air - pairs of fighter-bombers - stacked in layers above him awaiting their turn.
    The FAC would then roll in and mark the target with smoke - which had to be accurate - and direct the fighters onto it: ‘Cleared in hot - hit my smoke.’ (‘Hot’ meant that the guns and ordnance on a fighter should be armed; the ‘smoke’ came from the FACs marking rocket.) Technique apart, the instructor was watching the new FAC to see if he could operate under pressure. After a few dummy tree-busting runs a FAC was supposed to be ready for the real thing, known in the trade as the ‘dollar ride.’
    After what seemed