Three Days on a Raft in FRG
In late 1972 I was part of the first Attack Helicopter (Cobras) unit deployed to Europe. The unit had one of the longest histories of Army helicopters and was again going to lead the way. This time attack helicopters were being deployed to Europe to stand ready against the Soviet Union threat.
The unit had been in Vietnam and then the colors (flags representing the unit headquarters) were sent to Fort Knox, Kentucky where it was reorganized and equipped to prepare for Europe. The unit picked up many new helicopters and all new personnel. All but three of the sixty plus pilots were Vietnam veterans. Among the group was what was considered some of the best Cobra pilots the Army had. Many of them had egos to match any reputation they might have had. That was particularly true of the instructor pilots who were some of the biggest prima donnas I ever knew.
When the unit arrived in Germany (Federal Republic of Germany or FRG) there were protests from the citizens about attack helicopters being sent to their country. Over the following months there was very little flying and lots of time sitting. In June 1973 it was decided to take the unit to the field but there would be very little flying. It was a tough transition for pilots who had recently been in Vietnam flying many combat missions to go to sitting most of the time.
After spending a couple of days not doing much someone came up with a big idea; take the pilots and put them in assault rafts and let them row their way home on the Rhine River. It should take about three days and that would keep the pilots busy for a while.
Bright and early one morning the pilots were trucked to the river and given their rafts. The three platoons of pilots were given three rafts and each contained eleven pilots. Each platoon leader took the job of being the rudder man and the ten pilots did the rowing. So the captain sat there holding a stick while the pilots worked like dogs. He had a tough job but somebody had to do it.
The three rafts were launched at the same time. The first and third platoons had going in circles and across the river down pretty well. We in the second platoon worked quickly to refine our teamwork and were soon on our way. Soon we were out of sight of the other platoons and down the river. Well, actually we were upstream. The river had a negative surface current of two or three knots which meant we were rowing against the flow.
About noon while we were eating our C-rations the other platoons passed us. They had hooked on to a Dutch barge and were riding carefree home. They knew that they were no match for us and decided to just go home. Our platoon leader wanted no part of doing things the easy way.
The first day we rowed until after dark and then put ashore. The platoon leader said it was more tactical to not stop until after dark. After hiding the raft we settled down for the night. We ate our C-rations cold to keep from letting anyone know where we were by lighting a fire. None of us knew why we were trying so hard to keep from being spotted. The Germans didn’t care what we did. The other Americans didn’t care what we did. Our platoon leader was an airborne ranger and he liked living without any luxuries or “playing the game”. We slept leaning against trees with only our poncho for a cover. If we had not been so dog-tired I don’t think we would have slept but exhaustion can really help act as a sleep aid.
In the morning we were up before dawn and on our way. Again it was supposed to be good tactically. Cold C-rations for breakfast just aren’t very inspiring. All day we rowed except for the brief times we went through a lock. Again we didn’t stop until night. We could barely move our arms but again we were able to sleep next to our friend mister tree after our evening meal of cold C-rations in the dark with only our little red flashlight to illuminate what we were eating.
The third day we rowed into our hometown. It was Friday night and we were wasted. All of us got rides to our homes and we were so happy to see a bed again. The other platoons had been home for two nights and they were well rested. They made it home the first night and never had the chance to sleep against a tree with their poncho. Three days in the raft had really worn the second platoon pilots out.
It is amazing how we take the wonderful basic things for granted. There is a saying I like that goes, “Bed, bed, heaven on earth to a weary head.” The night I arrived home I truly felt like my bed was heaven on earth. Most of us never give a thought to how wonderful we have it. Almost all of us have a home that is dry, warmed or cooled as desired, a safe comfortable place to sleep and about everything else we desire. We have a great choice of good foods to eat and if there is anything we want we can get it pretty quickly. We flick a switch and have power to run about any luxury we can think of. Even when most of us go camping we take many comforts with us. But out there in the world there are many people that don’t have even the basics. I have personally seen poverty in a couple spots in the world that broke my heart. To some of those folks my poncho would be a great prize and my C-rations the best meal they could have had for a while. Those folks would think they were doing well to have the things we throw away. Thank goodness there are caring people out there that work so hard to give the unfortunate a hand. I hope that none of us forgest that “except for the grace of God there go I” and that we do our part to help those in need.
The unit had been in Vietnam and then the colors (flags representing the unit headquarters) were sent to Fort Knox, Kentucky where it was reorganized and equipped to prepare for Europe. The unit picked up many new helicopters and all new personnel. All but three of the sixty plus pilots were Vietnam veterans. Among the group was what was considered some of the best Cobra pilots the Army had. Many of them had egos to match any reputation they might have had. That was particularly true of the instructor pilots who were some of the biggest prima donnas I ever knew.
When the unit arrived in Germany (Federal Republic of Germany or FRG) there were protests from the citizens about attack helicopters being sent to their country. Over the following months there was very little flying and lots of time sitting. In June 1973 it was decided to take the unit to the field but there would be very little flying. It was a tough transition for pilots who had recently been in Vietnam flying many combat missions to go to sitting most of the time.
After spending a couple of days not doing much someone came up with a big idea; take the pilots and put them in assault rafts and let them row their way home on the Rhine River. It should take about three days and that would keep the pilots busy for a while.
Bright and early one morning the pilots were trucked to the river and given their rafts. The three platoons of pilots were given three rafts and each contained eleven pilots. Each platoon leader took the job of being the rudder man and the ten pilots did the rowing. So the captain sat there holding a stick while the pilots worked like dogs. He had a tough job but somebody had to do it.
The three rafts were launched at the same time. The first and third platoons had going in circles and across the river down pretty well. We in the second platoon worked quickly to refine our teamwork and were soon on our way. Soon we were out of sight of the other platoons and down the river. Well, actually we were upstream. The river had a negative surface current of two or three knots which meant we were rowing against the flow.
About noon while we were eating our C-rations the other platoons passed us. They had hooked on to a Dutch barge and were riding carefree home. They knew that they were no match for us and decided to just go home. Our platoon leader wanted no part of doing things the easy way.
The first day we rowed until after dark and then put ashore. The platoon leader said it was more tactical to not stop until after dark. After hiding the raft we settled down for the night. We ate our C-rations cold to keep from letting anyone know where we were by lighting a fire. None of us knew why we were trying so hard to keep from being spotted. The Germans didn’t care what we did. The other Americans didn’t care what we did. Our platoon leader was an airborne ranger and he liked living without any luxuries or “playing the game”. We slept leaning against trees with only our poncho for a cover. If we had not been so dog-tired I don’t think we would have slept but exhaustion can really help act as a sleep aid.
In the morning we were up before dawn and on our way. Again it was supposed to be good tactically. Cold C-rations for breakfast just aren’t very inspiring. All day we rowed except for the brief times we went through a lock. Again we didn’t stop until night. We could barely move our arms but again we were able to sleep next to our friend mister tree after our evening meal of cold C-rations in the dark with only our little red flashlight to illuminate what we were eating.
The third day we rowed into our hometown. It was Friday night and we were wasted. All of us got rides to our homes and we were so happy to see a bed again. The other platoons had been home for two nights and they were well rested. They made it home the first night and never had the chance to sleep against a tree with their poncho. Three days in the raft had really worn the second platoon pilots out.
It is amazing how we take the wonderful basic things for granted. There is a saying I like that goes, “Bed, bed, heaven on earth to a weary head.” The night I arrived home I truly felt like my bed was heaven on earth. Most of us never give a thought to how wonderful we have it. Almost all of us have a home that is dry, warmed or cooled as desired, a safe comfortable place to sleep and about everything else we desire. We have a great choice of good foods to eat and if there is anything we want we can get it pretty quickly. We flick a switch and have power to run about any luxury we can think of. Even when most of us go camping we take many comforts with us. But out there in the world there are many people that don’t have even the basics. I have personally seen poverty in a couple spots in the world that broke my heart. To some of those folks my poncho would be a great prize and my C-rations the best meal they could have had for a while. Those folks would think they were doing well to have the things we throw away. Thank goodness there are caring people out there that work so hard to give the unfortunate a hand. I hope that none of us forgest that “except for the grace of God there go I” and that we do our part to help those in need.
posted by Bruce | 5:56 PM
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