David Mitchell
Joe,
Thanks for the tip. Looking at the model JoBi is building is pretty cool. It appears that with Toyota as their partner their future is bright.
Brighter than several of my platoon mates five decades ago. This was one of those days we used to call a "rough day at the office". As usual in my Troop (Company), the Pilot and Observer were both extracted safely. Our two sister Troops were not always so fortunate.
(*** Disclaimer - this photo was not my ship. I only got knocked down once and I got it down upright - well, sorta. I hit kind of hard and spread the skids a bit. But what followed with our backup team coming out to cover my extraction was much more frantic - and funny - another story for another time.)

Not actually an unommon site on the airfield - after being slung back under a Huey cargo hook to be used for scavenging parts. This was a rather common site out in the flight line maintainence yard (see maintainence tents behind). With three Troops operating this low-level search mission full time, you would see one or two of these out there at any one time. A new one about once every week. I seem to recall my platoon of maybe 16 guys (a platoon of 8 at a time, but rotating over time for my 18 months) we had a Loach shot down about 24 times - (Yes - twenty four times - one of us 5 times). Our two sister Troops had worse numbers than that - one Troop, a lot worse.
*** GET THIS - One of their "scout" (Loach) pilots was shot down three times in one day! I still can't grasp the mindset that would cause you (or alllow you) to get back in another cockpit after the second one.
AND - - - - A guy named Hugh Mills (wrote "Low Level Hell") flew this mision for three years and was shot down - - wait or it - - -
- - - 16 (sixteen) times!

When somebody got hit at only 8 or 10 feet, it was hard not to bonk into the ground - too little altitude and immedaite loss of power - sometimes. Sometimes we could nurse it over the next rice paddy or tree line and set it down semi-soft - as in my case.
Fortunatley I was above some trees at the time I got knocked down, so I had about 30 feet of altitude and performed an "autorotation" (a weird form of rotary-wing gliding - practiced in flight school hundreds of times - and I screwed it up many dozens of times!
But the one time I needed to get it right, I did. I was so proud of myself - HA!)
I reacted with a sudden loud grunt, and jerking on my "collective" (in utter panic reaction) which gave me more power and about 10 more feet of altitude for about one second, and gained us about 100 yards distance out into a rice paddy where my AMC (Air Mission Commnader - flying a Huey at 500 feet directing the mision) came down and picked us up (normal proceedure). With close cover from our two Cobra gunships dropping down low beside them.
Sometime I'll explain what followed with my "backup team" - both horrifying and funny.

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