Lt. Col Jackson was a small cargo pilot during Vietnam and he transported troops and supplies to and from bases. He was a personable, witty speaker and his story is amazing:
When the Vietnam War began, Jackson found himself piloting a C-123 Provider on 298 combat sorties in his third war. In May 1968, the special forces camp at Kham Duc, South Vietnam was tucked away in the central highlands, 16 kilometers from the Laotian border. After the fall of Camp Lang Vei during the Tet offensive in February, Kham Duc was the only observation camp remaining in I Corps, the northernmost military district in South Vietnam. When Kham Duc came under heavy mortar attack on May 10, Army Gen. William Westmorland ordered it evacuated.http://www.af.mil/information/heritage/person.asp?dec=&pid=123006517
On May 12, Mother's Day, a heavy fog hung over the camp, obscuring enemy movements in the surrounding hills. An Army CH-47 helicopter and two Air Force C-130s tried to land and takeoff with personnel, but were disabled by enemy fire. One C-130 burst into flames at the end of the runway, killing the crew and more than 150 Vietnamese civilians. Finally, a C-130 was able to land and takeoff with some passengers.
At 3 p.m. that afternoon, a C-123 took off from Da Nang, bound for Kham Duc. Jackson was at the controls, along with Maj. Jesse Campbell, Tech. Sgt. Edward Trejo and Staff Sgt. Manson Grubbs, his crew. As he circled at 9,000 feet in a holding pattern, the scene below was one of increasing devastation as the Viet Cong moved closer to the camp's 4,000-foot airstrip.
Hostile forces had overrun the forward outpost and established gun positions on the airstrip. They were raking the camp with small arms, mortars, light and heavy automatic weapons and recoilless rifle fire. The camp was engulfed in flames and ammunition dumps were exploding and littering the runway with debris. In addition, eight aircraft had been destroyed by the intense fire and one remained on the runway, reducing its usable length to only about 2,200 feet. To further complicate the landing, the weather was deteriorating rapidly. As the last C-130 was about to takeoff with the last of the men on the ground aboard, the airborne commander ordered jet fighters circling overhead to descend and destroy the camp. It looked as if Jackson's aircraft wasn't going to be needed in the rescue attempt. But then the radio crackled, informing them that the three-man combat control team, in charge of directing the evacuation, was still on the ground. As they searched the camp for anyone who had been left behind, the realized they were the only ones left.
One C-123 attempted to land, but enemy fire intensified and the C-123 was forced to accelerate for take off without finding the men. Jackson and his crew began their dive from 9,000 feet at a rate of almost 4,000 feet per minute. Jackson realized that if he reversed his propellers to stop the aircraft, he would shut off the two auxiliary engines he needed for a quick escape. Instead, he jammed on the brakes and skidded halfway down the runway. As it turned to be able to take off the way it came in, the three men jumped from a culvert next to the runway and leaped into the open cargo door in the rear. At that moment, from the edge of the runway came a 122 mm rocket, fired from just outside the perimeter. The men watched as the shell skidded along the asphalt, broke in half and stopped only 10 meters from the plane. It did not explode. Jackson taxied around the shell and applied full power, taking off under heavy fire from the hills on either side. The plane had been on the ground at Kham Duc for less than a minute.
Here he is in an interview a few years back:
After he picked up the command team and they were safely above enemy fire, one of the rescued men tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Jackson, when we get back to base I'd just like to see you stand up." Puzzled he asked why. "Because you must have balls this big!" [Indicating cantaloupe size].
I did a little research on the man and it turns out he is remarkable not only for his bravery, but for his service in the community and his humility. MSNBC did a story on him earlier this year and they found that he'd been serving in a food kitchen in Kent Washington for 18 years. Most of the people he'd helped and served never knew that he was a war hero.
Here is Chris standing next to him.
Pinning on of the wings is a very big deal in the Air Force and Chris had the opportunity of a lifetime to have a medal of honor recipient pin them on. He decided to give that honor to his dad instead.
Dad is just about bursting with pride. It's a wonder those buttons remained intact.
(Unfortunately the lighting in the room was poor and my flash not quite up to the task...)Father and son (now with wings!)
