1980 Cuban Refugee Crisis in Miami....

Do any of you remember or have even heard of the 1980 Cuban Refugee Crisis that happened in Miami, Florida? I dare say that 99 percent of you reading this were even a gleam in your dad's eye then. Well I was a brand spanking new pilot, commanding a Military Police Aviation Detachment at Fort Bragg, NC. Great duty! I had five OH-58A helicopters (Bell 206 civilian model) to my disposal. And I mean to my disposal. I could take one out for a spin 24/7. Little did I know at that time what a luxury that was. I relish those daze because what I wouldn't give to take one out for a spin now.

Well in April/May of 1980, the knuckle head in Cuba decided to open his doors (one-way) and let those leave Cuba who wanted to. However he also opened up all his prisons and let all the inmates head for the great U.S. of A. Huge flotillas of thugs, rapists, murders and many real decent people were heading for Key West and the Eastern shores of Florida. As a result of this my unit was alerted and the next thing I knew, my soldiers, my helicopters and I were heading for Miami, Florida. Specifically Opaloca Airport. That is where we operated out of for the next several months. Again, great duty!! You don't know how many times I said, "...and they pay me to do this...there is a God". On a typical day we flew anywhere from West Palm Beach to the tip of Key West. I would fly 50 yards off the beach, 20 feet off the deck and look at all the babes along the beach. The only time I gained altitude was to bounce over a fishing pier. I can't tell you how many kites I tore up flying up and down those beaches. I'm still probably being cussed.

As a brand new aviation commander and as a new pilot (5 months out of flight school) I managed to scare the sweet be-Jesus out of myself on several occasions. I was shot at, (Miami riots were going on, that's another story) damn near flew into the side of the US Customs building and screwed with the sharks off shore by hovering over them. Of course, being a young kid with the infallible attitude, "that nothing could happen to me" I never considered having an engine failure over those big fish. Thank God that never happened. But the most memorable thing that happened to me was something that I did, of which I'm sure no one else has done since. It was something that caused me to get several of the biggest ass chewings that I ever received during my career in the Army. But I took it with a smile.

On a daily routine I flew over this man made structure that is well known. I would fly around it, land next to it and looked at it everyday with awe. And then I got the hair brained idea to land in the middle of it. And I don't mean just land in the middle of it but I mean put that sucker down on the 50 yard line. Yep, I was going to land that helicopter on the 50 yard line of the Orange Bowl. You know, the football stadium called the Orange Bowl.

Well I thought it all out and knew I had to get an accomplice to take pictures while on the ground. Well I picked Sergeant Mac (can't give his whole name), a Military Police Staff Sergeant then. He was a good friend of mine and when I approached him with the scheme, he said, "Hell yea, let's do it". The next thing I knew we were heading for the Orange Bowl with cameras in hand. I discussed my approach into the stadium with him and upon arrival we made the approach and landed on the 50 yard line. I shut down the aircraft which takes about five minutes, to include waiting for the blades to stop turning. We jumped out of the aircraft with all smiles getting in place to take some pictures. We would have high-fived but that had not been invented yet. All of a sudden, in the middle of the picture taking, a maniac appeared screaming at the top of his lungs. My first thought was "Oh Crap". I quickly found out he was the ground keeper and he was not a happy camper. He cussed me like a sailor for landing on his turf saying something to the affect that the skids on my helicopter were going to put ruts in the ground and mess up his playing field. What he didn't know and I wasn't about to tell him, is when you shut the aircraft down, the fuel lines purge and a pint or more of jet fuel is dumped on the ground. The results of that would not turn up until I was long gone. So about the time I got this great American calmed down, a rabid Captain showed up and began ripping my butt and wanted to know who gave me permission to land there. Well after I lied...I mean, talked my way out of that one, Mac and I jumped in the aircraft, fired it up and left. We were laughing about what we had just gotten away with when I got a call from headquarters over the radio. The message was, "The Colonel wants to see you immediately". Needless to say that radio call killed the laughter and all I could think of was, my career is over, I'm a dead man, I'll never fly again and I wonder how bad the Alpha Charlie (Ass Chewing) was going to be. We bee-lined straight to the airport so I could get this over with as soon as possible. I parked the bird and reported to the ol' man. I could tell he wasn't happy when I walked into his office. He didn't let me down either. He started ripping me the second I started into his office. He started off with, "Lieutenant what the hell were you thinking?" "I can't believe you landed that helicopter in the Orange Bowl and didn't ask me to come along so I could have flown in there with you". "I've been wanting to do that since we got here." I knew then I was still in business. I said I wouldn't make that mistake again and was on my way. I immediately jumped back in the aircraft and took off. I flew over the Orange Bowl and as I looked down I could see the brown spot already forming where the fuel had dumped on the ground. I just smiled and thought, yep that was me, and I thought again, "....and they pay me to do this...there is a God"......Army Daze.

There I was 10,000 feet.....

It was a beautiful day out, visibility unlimited (if there is such a thing), winds calm (except at altitude) and we were supporting the Green Beret Sport Parachute Club at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. John Raybon and I volunteered to fly the jump mission that weekend in support of the "GB" club (My dad always told me to never volunteer for anything while in the Army, I should have listened). We were flying the UH-1H helicopter (the Vietnam work horse, the UH standing for Utility Helicopter and the other H indicating the model) taking jumpers to 10,000 plus feet as the jump altitude. We had made several elevator trips that morning and had commented on how strong the winds were at altitude. It's amazing how sluggish the huey helicopter gets at that altitude due to the air density or lack there of. At 10,000 plus feet you have to be very gentle on the controls because you didn't want anything bad to happen. To many bad aerodynamic things can happen to explain in this blog. We always joked, "It's not the fall but the sudden stop that hurts". We call it decelerating forces. Anyway, at that altitude and flying into a strong head wind, when you looked down at the ground through the chin bubble of the aircraft it looked like you were flying backwards. A strange sensation and eerie to say the least. The jump run was always flown into the wind and we received minor heading changes from the Jumpmaster to ensure we hit the correct release point for the jumpers. Like I said, John and I had commented on how strong the winds were that day at altitude but it wasn't that unusual, at least to any great concern, so we continued the mission.Well we piled a new group of jumpers on board, all friends of ours, because if we weren't flying these guys we were usually jumping with them. We took off and climbed to altitude. Everything was good to go as we made a right turn to begin the jump run. I was flying the aircraft, being easy on the controls and could feel the wind pushing the aircraft sideways in the turn. The turn was real gradual. Remember I was being easy on the controls and didn't want any big attitude changes at that altitude. John was half turned in his seat looking and talking to the jumpers over the intercom system in the aircraft as we made the turn. Things were going great when all of a sudden there were two or three loud bangs that came from the engine, hell it could have been 10 bangs, all I knew was it was loud and the aircraft was shuttering like mad. As the sequence started, I leveled the aircraft, looked at John and just the look on his face unnerved me and by the time I looked back at the instrument panel to get an indication of what was happening, the damn engine quit. It's amazing how fast or how slow things happen when the shit hits the fan. There I was 10,000 feet and not wanting to be there. The jumpers exited the aircraft immediately. So much for friends sticking around in a crisis. I had already lowered the collective and entered autorotation keeping the aircraft at an 80 knot attitude. I was already looking for a place to land because we were falling like a rock. In the aviation world, planes glide, helicopters fall like expensive rocks.It's strange how quiet it gets at 10,000 feet when the engine quits. You hear sounds you've never heard before and sounds I never wanted to hear again. As we bounded towards mother earth it was nothing but assholes and elbows in the cockpit. As I flew the aircraft, John quickly got the check list out and opened it to emergency start procedures. As John was getting everything in the cockpit ready to pull the trigger for a restart, I kept thinking, hurry up John, hurry up John, hurry up John but I never said it out loud.The procedure for starting is fairly simple but simple is not fast enough when falling like a rock. I wasn't tooooo worried, easy for me to say now, because landing with no power was no problem. We had practiced this many times flying the aircraft to the ground from an autorotation but it's just damn unnerving knowing it's the real thing. Well at about 3000 feet, John pulled the trigger and we were able to get powered flight back at about 1,000 to 1,500 feet. We landed the aircraft safely, shut it down, climbed out, kissed the ground and called the maintenance officer. He said we probably had a compressor stall and that he would come out and fly it back. Well, while he and another maintenance officer flew the aircraft back, John and I went to the GB club and had a nice cold beer, probably two.John was a great friend. He was later killed in a helicopter accident in El Salvador.