 In
September, 1970, as a young First
Lieutenant, I was on a TDY trip from Headquarters, USASAPAC, to 547
Signal Troop at the Australian base camp at Nui Dat, South Vietnam.
The purpose of my mission was to take a look at the newly developed
Australian Radio Direction Finding System known as SSL, or "the Cell."
SSL was state of the art at that time. I landed at Tan Son Nhut
AFB, and spent the first day at the Radio Research Field Station at
Bien Hoa. It was my first trip to the Republic of Vietnam.
The next morning I flew down to Nui Dat. After an busy and
eventful trip from Bien Hoa (Red Carpet Pad) to Nui Dat (Luscombe
Field), and a warm welcome, complete with a fair amount of beer
drinking, I arose the following morning to the sound of a light
aircraft over the Luscombe Field. I walked over where I
could see better, and an Aussie NCO, also watching, said to me, "say
mate, aren't you the Yank who is down from Bien Hoa."
"Yes," I replied, and then remarked about the flying ability of the
pilot in the plane, which it was easy to see was excellent. The NCO
then launches into a long technical discourse regarding the aircraft,
a PC-6 Porter, and it's characteristics and airworthiness. Then
he said, "by the way, according to the technical specs, the Porter's
airframe will break in half if it is flown through a loop."
While we were talking, he pilot above was putting on quite an
aerobatics show. He was diving, then climbing up into a loop, which
he had not been able to complete to that point. He continued to
try again, and again, and again. A very persistent young
pilot. About the time the NCO told me the aircraft would break
in half if it were flown through a loop, the pilot zooms skyward and
finally completes a beautiful full loop. With a very serious
demeanour, the Aussie NCO looks at me and says, "by the way Mate, that
is your pilot this afternoon." It created a low level
pucker factor.
 The
mission itself was fairly uneventful, over
a rubber plantation north
of Nui Dat. I immediately noticed that the only armament
consisted of one M-16 rifle, and one ammo can of M-16 clips. I
was armed with a borrowed government issue M1911
45 cal. pistol, and only
one clip of ammo. Being reasonably intelligent, I figured if we
were shot down, the 45 was to shoot myself with. While taking
some pictures, I noticed puffs of smoke rising from the jungle below.
Suddenly it struck me that it was an artillery strike, and this was a
for real deal. About the same time, I realized that we were
flying low enough to be in range of small arms fire from the ground.
The pucker factor increased a few more points.
 Just
before we were to return to base, a VC manual morse operator came up,
and we began to fly a series of ARDF lines. At the end of the
run, the pilot would dive into a tight banking turn, and come back on
his straight line of flight. I think we flew the line from point to
point four or five times. By the time we were finished, I
was sicker than hell....but not about to upchuck on an allied
aircraft. Needless to say I didn't want much beer that evening.
There was a U.S. Army Staff Sergeant along on the flight, to "escort"
me I suspect. He quickly jumped into the co-pilot's seat
before we took off, leaving me the seat in the rear with the ARDF
operator. Since then I follow his lead when flying small planes.
Of course I didn't have a flaming clue what the operator was actually
was doing, but I can assure you that he was real busy. He was a short
stocky fellow with red hair and freckles if I remember correctly.
The experience gave me increased respect for the men who flew the
these ARDF missions. They were dedicated professionals who were
definitely in harm's way.
 I
remember the Blue Room very well. It was the watering hole,
complete with some very interesting pictures on the wall. I have
a photograph of the front door somewhere. That evening we had mess
with a large group of officers at what was probably the 104 Signal
Squadron mess hall. The next day we drove down to the the SSL
site and looked it over. I sketched the antenna configuration
for my boss back at ASAPAC after I left your AO. My Australian
hosts were superb. Major Malcolm Raymond was my official host.
He was a delightful fellow, and made me feel very welcome. I
received a Christmas card from him back in the 1970's, but I have long
since lost contact with him.
Ron
Estes
Captain, U.S. Army (1969-1972)
HQ U.S. Army Security Agency, Pacific
Helemano Military Reservation, Oahu, Hawaii, USA
Ron Estes has retired and now lives in
West Plains, MO, USA
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