Posted on 04/25/2004 4:53:18 AM PDT by RaceBannon
In 1980, I was one of the Marines off Iran for the Hostage Rescue Attempt.
Today is the 24th anniversay of the attempt.
I made a website dedicated to the Rescue Attempt and what is posted here is from that site.
The stories below are personal stories of those at Desert One.
Let us always remember the men who died that day.
Hi Marine,
A friend just recently told me of you website and I wanted to thank you for your efforts. It's hard to believe all of that occurred almost 24 years ago, but your site brought it all back.. I decided to thank you, because I've placed it in my mind's "lock box" for a long time.
I was an AE2 in HM-14 at the time and about 40 days from the end of my enlistment. I had a job line up (with the company I work for to this day - Sikorsky) and was making plans to leave the family behind for 1 - 2 years to work in Iran - of all places. They had RH-53s too.
Right after the hostage taking, as reported, HM-16 got packed out to the IO. A couple days later, at HM-14 we got directed to put 5 or 6 aircraft on the line ready for flight and have no one around them. A Marine helo came in dropped crews and took the aircraft to "an undisclosed location". I think it was about a week later, the aircraft returned and my Skipper called me in and gave me orders for accompany a flight of three aircraft cross country to Yuma and stay behind for 10 days to provide AFCS training to "service personnel" and then return to homebase for processing out. Enroute one of the aircraft developed a problem and I stayed with it in Nashville to change out an Accessory gearbox. So when we arrived at Yuma MCAS, we were alone. The next morning our aircraft was gone and within a few hours the crew, except for me, was directed to get transport back to Norfolk. Around 1400, waiting in the Operations Building, I met Col. Pitman for the 1st time. "get your ass on that Huey out there and keep your mouth shut unless I ask you a question! CLEAR?!" And so, this ground pounding electrician was in.
We flew to a remote airfield (we didn't actually operate out of Yuma) where the Colonel handed me over to a Marine Gunner (everyone called him Dad - I called him Sir for the 1st weeks). He and a Marine Sgt (John Harvey) got me signed in (Non-Disclosure and National Security stuff) and billeted. Over the next few months John and I worked closely together since he was an electrician also. He was a sharp, straight shooter and we respected each other professionally and personally. One thing that didn't seem to come out were the false "go's".
It's a long time ago, but I remember packing up a couple times before April (when the weather would have been more reliable), but got turned back because "Washington wasn't ready". During our time "out West" it is amazing that we didn't lose anyone or aircraft. The Navy pilots were doing things they'd never done before and more than one aircraft showed the damage. The Marines got to have their fun with the "Squid", teaching me some hand to hand, aircrew and weapons training. I'd never fired an M16 or a .50 cal., hell I was a mine sweep ground pounder. Dewey Johnson got the weapons training task - I got a broken nose from the 50 cal recoil (too long a story for here) and Dewey about peed himself laughing. But, he was a great guy and an artist with that 50.
But, we did finally get the Go. From my perspective the unit had gelled in the time we were in AZ and we were ready for the mission. When we got to Nimitz, HM-16 had the aircraft ready. Of course I knew most of the guys in 16 and we went over each aircraft...so I know they were as good as they could be. Until two days before the final go (4/22), as far as I knew I was going to be left behind and only six aircraft were launching. But, it was 1st decided all eight would launch, in case something happened during launch and then it was passed that Dash 7 & 8 would go to "feet dry" and then return and finally we were going the whole route. So, John and I were both going. John was primary so he was assigned to Dash 3 and I got Dash 8. I'd spent alot of time with John and Dewey and really wanted to be in their crew, plus the pilots (Schaeffer and Petty) were the best in the unit (my opinion).
Command didn't want John and I together in case an electrician were needed and one of us didn't get to the site(s). At any rate, we were set, but then shit started to happen. 1st it was the hangar deck fire extinguisher, then one of the senior enlisted Marines got hurt loading internal fuel cells and then we were told to lighten the aircraft (funny, the scene from Pearl Harbor about the Doolittle Raid reminded me so much of the frenzy). Even still - with the internal fuel, spare parts I "acquired" and extra ammo, 8 was probably 10k over max gross weight at takeoff. I remember looking at the other aircraft as we rolled off Nimitz at dusk thinking what a great picture it would make.
So we flew....the crew of Dash 8 was a Marine Captain and a Navy LCDR (later a squadron Commander and ultimately a Captain) a Marine SSgt, a Navy AMH1 and me (2nd crewman). As was reported, all went well initially, in a trail formation. We saw Six going down and followed.
By the time we landed and I ran to them, they had shut down and were inspecting the blades. The real problem wasn't so much the blade as the fact the aircraft had sunk to it's belly in the VERY soft sand and might go ground resonant of a re-start. So it was left there (never found to this day, as far as I know) and the crew boarded 8. Of course we'd lost the formation by then and proceeded alone. The came the sand/dust storm. I don't know how those two pilots kept us from running into stuff, but they followed orders kept it low and stayed off the radios.
Special note here about the "special" nav quipment - it was worthless!
One system said 20 miles left of course, the other 30 miles right. So they shot the middle! Finally, after a very close call they decided to try to climb out of the crap, with no success at 5000, they went back to the deck and finally cleared the storm. It was then that the HAC said, "we're over an hour late, I hope they wait for us!" That wasn't what I wanted to hear! We're lost, no homing beacon for Desert One and starting to run low on fuel. But, we made it to Desert One. As we approached we realized there were only three other 53s there - we were number four to arrive. Touchdown was probably the worst part! We were expecting hardpack - the sand was so deep (like several other aircraft) the nose tires bogged and came off the rims! "leapfrogging" to get close to the C130s, my guys came very close to losing it once. But we were in and started to refuel. I had work to do aboard and really don't know more than what has been reported about the decisions there. I do know from later discussions that the crew for Dash 5 wanted to continue and that LTC Seifert felt very strongly that with a little compromise from COL Beckwith we could have proceeded. I do remember hearing the radio call that the mission was aborted.
I thought I'd never feel worse that when I heard that. Until Dash 3 hit the 130.
I didn't see the impact - I heard the radio call for 3 the lift and reposition so the 130 could taxi for departure and looked out to see them lift. As soon as they pulled pitch the dust cloud obscured them and I turned away. Next thing was to flash and the noise. I looked through the cockpit and could see 3 atop the 130, engulfed in flames. Before we could get flight ready (one engine was offline to conserve fuel) we started get hit with cooked off ordinance and the Captain called Abandon Ship. We retreated to a perimeter and then got the order to load up on the 130s. Several of the Marines volunteered to go back to recover survivors or casualties but were ordered (under duress) to load up. We flew back to an "undisclosed" location and eventually back to the East Coast.
We were sequestered for several days and then placed of Admin leave for about 30 days. I eventually reported back to HM-14, terminated my extension and left the service. About a month after that I (and I'm told all the members of the unit) received the DOD Meritorious Service Medal in the mail, with instructions not to display it or discuss the mission until I received authorization to do so. I've yet to get that authorization.
I did receive a very nice note from Major General Vaught. I think he described it best as " a best effort try, against overwhelming odds, by dedicated Americans." None of us were wanna be heroes, but the orders came down and we did what we had to and what we could.
Was the mission flawed? Yes, but the people who tried did what they felt was best, at the time, for all the right reasons. We lost eight great Americans...three that I got to know well and admire to this day. My greatest hope is that the lessons are not forgotten and that the politicians will remember to simply give the order and leave the execution to the experts the country is so lucky to have.
I want to thank No Greater Love for all that they have done to honor the fallen. What they accomplished at Arlington is exceptional.
Bookmarked.
U.S.N. Sea Bee's 1959 - 1962
"We are not afraid of any of your terrorist co-conspirators, Mr. Reid ...
"You’re a big fellow. But you’re not that big. You’re no warrior. I know warriors....
You are a terrorist, a species of criminal guilty of multiple attempted murders."
To call you a soldier gives you far too much stature. You are a terrorist, and we do not negotiate with terrorists.
We hunt them down one by one and bring them to justice. ...
"See that flag, Mr. Reid?
That is the flag of the United States of America
That flag will fly there long after this is long forgotten."
[Federal Judge Young to terrorist-shoebomber Reid]
I'll be coming back to your site, and pointing it out to others.
ML/NJ
Thanks!
We were very excited about the prospect of rescuing the hostages, and frankly, very fired up about going to war with Iran. It was terribly sad the way things turned out. I knew things had not gone well when I saw the "Old Man" sitting for a long time up on the island, staring out over the water with a deeply sad and worried expression. There were many other things I remember, but that was my strongest impression of it all.
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