Carl P. Parlatore

I was on my first tour in Vietnam as a “Phantom” F-4 backseat pilot, assigned to the 558 Tactical Fighter Squadron (TFS), 12th  Tactical Fighter Wing (TFW), Cam Rahn Bay AB, Republic of Viet Nam (RVN).  I was scheduled to be on 15-minute day alert on 3 Sep 1968.  Alert duty is where our aircraft must get into the air in less than 15 minutes to support our troops in case they need close air support, in a hurry. We got scrambled off the Alert Pad at approx.1450 hrs. (2:50 PM) to go support a Special Forces Camp near the Cambodian border in III Corps.  The camp was under siege and needed supplies to survive.  However, every time a supply aircraft tried to land it was hit by very accurate, and sometimes deadly, 14.7mm heavy machine gun fire.  Our job was to knock out the gun so the camp could be re-supplied.  As a sidebar, one of the aircraft on alert with us that day had tried to take the gun out that morning, but couldn’t find it – camouflaged very well – in the process our fellow squadron mate’s F-4 was hit and nearly went down.

When we arrived at the target area the Forward Air Controller (FAC), flying in a small observation aircraft, gave us the target brief, told us he hadn’t been able to find the gun all day but had a good idea where it was.  We then got ready to roll in and deliver our ordnance. On our first pass there was this sickening sound that I had never heard before – thump, thump, thump – our F-4 was now traveling about 500 Knots ( 575 MPH ) and 400 feet above the ground. Immediately, our trusty ole’ Phantom began to pitch up and roll wildly.  I was thrown around the cockpit, my head banging off the canopy several times.  My front seater (the aircraft commander in the front of the F-4) started to yell at me to eject (the ejection seat literally blows you out of the aircraft). I don’t remember much of the ejection only that it was VERY VIOLENT – the impact of the slip steam tore off my helmet, gloves and watch!

When I finally got my senses back I hanging in my parachute 10–20 feet off the ground, stuck in a tree – very thankful to be alive! The tree was at the edge of a huge bomb crater.  My right shoulder was on fire (broken and dislocated during the ejection – couldn’t move it) and my right leg was not feeling any better – it was twisted to where my foot was pointing in a direction it normally shouldn’t be (broken and dislocated right knee) and I was bleeding profusely from numerous deep cuts to my head and face (got those crashing through the tree that I got hung up in).  I then realized that someone was shooting at me as I hung there. The shooter was either a lousy shot or was deliberately missing me to get someone to rescue me – in other words using me as human bait.  I struggled to get my survival radio out and called for help. I had the use of only one arm and could hardly see due to the blood and sweat that was running into my eyes.  I waited for what seemed to be an eternity when finally an Army UH-1 (Huey) gun ship showed up.  He then began to hover over the crater. Two of the Huey crew jumped out to get me. They got me out of the tree; they carried me over to the Huey.  As they were about to put me in the Huey there was a tremendous amount of gunfire. The Huey took a number of hits and crashed, almost pancaking on top of me.  If the Huey had gone off to the left I wouldn’t be here now, but fortunately he rolled off to the right and crashed.  At this point the war in III Corps stopped and every bit of airpower in that part of Viet Nam was focused on the area I was in.  It was an awesome display of airpower.  The good guys were making a statement to the bad guys that they wanted us back and were going to take out anyone that tried to stop them.  I still get tears in my eyes knowing a bunch of GIs were putting their lives on the line to get me out of there.  When things settled down a LOH-6 Cayuses (LOH stands for Light Observation Helicopter) landed in the crater and pulled me out. Other helicopters came in are rescued the Huey crew that risked their lives to pick me up – thank God none of them got hurt. The LOH flew me to the 45th Surgical Medical Unit at Tay Ninh.  While there I received the best medical treatment in the world.  Seven months later I was flying again, only this time in the front seat of the F-4.  I completed two more tours in Viet Nam (a total of over 330 combat missions flown in North and South Viet Nam, Cambodia, and Laos). I retired from the Air Force as a Colonel in Sep 92 after a wonderful 26-year career.

Narrative submitted by Carl P. Parlatore