Heroes 2011
'I wasn't about to give up'
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Two Pave Hawk medical evacuation helicopters raced over the barren Afghan terrain near Kandahar, unsure exactly what they were about to encounter at their destination.
“The voice on the radio was pretty hysterical. … ‘We are being engaged and we’re under attack. Someone’s bleeding.’ Just over and over, screaming into the radio,” said Air Force Capt. Luke Will, a co-pilot aboard one of the Pave Hawk helicopters, designated Pedro 16, during a July 29, 2009, rescue mission for the 129th Expeditionary Rescue Squadron out of Kandahar Air Field.
When the two helicopters crested a ridgeline, they found a U.S. Army convoy of mine-resistant, ambush-protected (MRAP) vehicles struck by an improvised explosive device and left idle and exposed. The second vehicle was smoking from the blast, and three soldiers were seriously wounded.
From somewhere on the surrounding landscape, Taliban fighters fired down on the convoy, and two Army Kiowa Warrior helicopters circled the scene, trying to work out some coordination in the chaos.
Pedro 16 was there to get the wounded out. But the protracted rescue and firefight that unfolded earned the air crew the Mackay Trophy for most meritorious Air Force flight of 2009.
The Pedro 16 pilot, Capt. Robert Rosebrough, was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross with valor, and the other members of the air crew — Will, Staff Sgt. Tim Philpott and Master Sgt. Dustin Thomas — each received the Air Medal with valor.
The embattled Army convoy was caught in a “perfect ambush scenario” and the soldiers hunkered down in their vehicles against fire from AK-47s and a DShK heavy machine gun, Will said. Pink smoke wafted through the air from the convoy, signaling the rescue helicopters where to land and load the wounded.
In a hasty extraction plan worked out with the Kiowa crews, Pedro 16 would lay down suppressive fire along a wadi and grove of trees where the Taliban were hiding. The lead Pave Hawk would swoop into the landing zone for the wounded soldiers.
“As soon as his wheel touched the ground, on the radio, he said, ‘Taking fire, taking fire,’ ” Will said. “He was already pulling power and on the go again.”
But as the lead Pave Hawk pulled away, it began to list. There was ominous radio silence.
Finally, a broken message came over the radio.
“ ‘Co-pilot bleeding, something, something,’ ” Will recalled hearing. “It’s all just kind of garbled.”
The lead Pave Hawk had touched down near the convoy and taken direct fire. The co-pilot had been wounded in the arm and leg by shrapnel. Blood was soaking through her flight suit. Two of the crew’s pararescue jumpers had gotten off the helicopter before it pulled up.
“Now, there are two PJs on the ground in the dust cloud also getting shot at,” Will said. “They sprint up to the convoy to help out.”
Pedro 16 zeroed in on the grove of trees where the Taliban had taken up positions while the lead Pave Hawk took another run at loading the jumpers and the wounded soldiers.
Philpott opened up on the grove with the helicopter’s mini-gun, a devastating .30-caliber weapon that fires 2,000 rounds per minute, killing two Taliban fighters and possibly a third.
When the mini-gun jammed, Philpott and Thomas, the flight crew gunner, began firing their M4 carbines.
“I wasn’t about to give up,” Thomas told Stars and Stripes during an interview in 2010.
The crew of the lead Pave Hawk continued to take fire as it loaded the three casualties and the two PJs and pulled away from the landing zone.
As the Kiowas pounded the Taliban, the two rescue helicopters flew from the ambush site, hugging the terrain. But within just miles, the evacuation took another bad turn as Pedro 16 lost sight of the Pave Hawk carrying the casualties.
As the air crew crested a hill, the desert opened up before them and the other helicopter suddenly came into view. It was sitting on the ground in the middle of the barren expanse, its rotor blades still and its radios silent.
“We knew they took a bunch of shots, we knew they got the patients onboard,” Will said. “Now, they’re a mile out in front of us turned around and shut down.”
Pedro 16 moved low over the desert toward the downed aircraft. As Will looked out the window, he watched little puffs of dust rising from the dry earth below. It took him a moment to comprehend that the helicopter was being shot at again.
With a new threat looming, the crew of the downed rescue helicopter took up defensive positions around the aircraft as Pedro 16 orbited overhead. A PJ on the ground radioed that the helicopter had too many malfunctions to fly and that the crew was taking direct fire from a rock mountainside to the north.
“We just kind of troll up looking for someone almost to engage us versus engaging the guys on the ground,” Will said. “We’re just meandering our way up these rock valleys and this rock face.”
Pedro 16 could not find the enemy positions, and after firing a burst into the mountainside, their mini-gun was jammed and the downed helicopter was still under attack.
With options evaporating, Rosebrough devised a plan to evacuate the casualties and the imperiled air crew using the Kiowa helicopters. In a rare move, six servicemembers on the ground would climb onto the landing skids of the Kiowas to get out of the ambush site while the rest of the downed aircraft crew and the injured patients would board Pedro 16.
The servicemembers “would sit on the skids, find something to clip a carabiner to … and hold on,” Will said. “The Kiowas were all for it.”
The helicopters swooped into the site and the crew loaded on board in a sweep of dust and bullets. The Kiowas pulled away with the servicemembers.
As Pedro 16 prepared for takeoff, Rosebrough and Will watched the small puffs of dust from incoming bullets move in a line across the desert floor directly toward the helicopter.
Philpott, firing out of the helicopter with his M4, called across the radio for everyone to immediately get on board for takeoff. The air crew with casualties rushed into the aircraft under heavy fire. After a quick head count, Pedro 16 pulled up and away from the firefight.
“We were like, ‘That was one hell of a day,’ ” Will said.
But it wasn’t over yet.
An unexpected message came over the radio: “You guys forgot us. We’re still on the ground.”
The Kiowas were meant to take six troops, but had only evacuated three. That meant three were still on the ground and under fire.
The Pedro 16 crew did the quick math for taking on three more passengers. The added weight would likely hobble the helicopter and keep it from getting more than 10 feet off the ground.
“Only having enough power to hover at 10 feet is pretty risky,” Will said.
“If anything goes wrong, you don’t have any power to pull away. It is the absolute minimum power margin.”
He passed the grim information to Rosebrough.
According to Will, Rosebrough dismissed the warnings and swung the Pave Hawk around to go back for those left behind.
At Will’s suggestion, Pedro 16 landed on the far side of the downed helicopter to use it as cover for the pickup. The three climbed aboard and Rosebrough punched the thrust on the helicopter.
“He pulls to the max limit of what the helicopter has in terms of power and it just inches off the ground,” Will said.
The overloaded Pave Hawk moved slowly across the desert in a nerve-racking attempt to gain speed and altitude. Eventually it happened — the helicopter pulled away with its crew and casualties.
Pedro 16 caught up with the Kiowas and passed them on the way back to Kandahar.
“We see two of the air crew members sitting on the skids [of the Kiowas] out of the right side. They’re looking over to us waving,” Will said. “It was just this unreal scene.”
