The Battle for Houston...The Aftermath (20 page)

Preston was commander of his flight of four aircraft and knew what to do. They had all studied a map of the airport during their briefing and knew which buildings to hit. So did
Blue Moon
and, even Charlie Six had asked her nicely to destroy a single fuel depot building, a small refueling building he had stated was already full of dead bodies.

Seconds later he heard more orders from
Easy Girl’s
weapons operator. She only carried three powerful 20-mm cannons and
Easy Girl
worked her way down the two northern terminals before causing havoc to the army trying to get out of the airport.

“OK, guys,
Pronto
and
Spectre,
a change of pattern on second run,”
heard Preston as his wing lost altitude and was getting nearer to the battle below. He could see smoke rising from the airport as well now.
“
Pronto
and
Spectre
, head north behind me. There is a mass of vehicles heading southwards on the highway south of the airport. It’s called JFK Boulevard I believe. The enemy vehicles already extend all the way down to the Sam Houston Parkway and there are hundreds of trucks already on the Parkway itself heading west.
Blue Moon
, once you are done with your first run follow us; we are heading south. Over.”

“Roger that,”
Preston heard
Blue Moon’s
pilot.

Preston gave orders for his wing to turn east and head out for a minute or two and then slowly turn west for their first bombing run. That would give
Blue Moon
time to do her thing and get out of their way. He was close enough now to see the first three gunships turning north just above the ground. He was still at 5,000 feet and high above the carnage being dealt out below. He saw
Blue Moon
a mile west of the airport. It was now her turn.

There was clear visibility, the storm had completely disappeared and sunlight was covering Bush Intercontinental Airport, or what remained of it. The long northern terminal had several fires glowing through holes in the roof and there wasn’t much ground movement.

“All aircraft! Foxtrot Fours ten minutes out, Foxtrot Fives five minutes behind us and Tweets behind them. Suggestions and fresh information on best possible views for crowd control? Over.”
Preston heard this as he was going in, so did the three aircraft behind him.

“Highway running east to west a couple miles south of airport is your best bet for a good show, Foxtrot Four,”
replied the commander of Easy Girl. He was in charge of the battle below.
“I believe the airport is now empty of enemy, and all munitions should now be directed towards open highways south of the airport. Remember, we have friendlies in all areas so don’t fire outside a three-mile area around the airport. Fixed Wing aircraft, I suggest you follow us; sweep left at the western edge of the terminal, head southeast, you will see a highway north of the main beltway; turn west over that highway and set up your runs. A mass of enemy has just turned down that road.
Blue Moon,
head west until you reach I-45. There are a large number of enemy heading southwards; that’s now your area. Foxtrot Fours, you have the east/west beltway which is full of targets. All aircraft including Foxtrot Fives, after your first runs, hold off until the air is clear for a second attack. Tweets, stay twenty miles north and wait for further instructions.”

The air got busy as Preston and the three aircraft followed him in. “Martie, Carlos, rockets only this pass. P-38 you are a go to drop hot sauce. All aircraft up to 1,500 feet and stagger your height a couple of hundred feet higher than the aircraft in front of you and remember our briefing; two miles distance between aircraft. I don’t want you to blow each other out of the sky.”

It wasn’t necessary to fire into the terminals as he sped past north of them at 800 feet and 350 miles an hour. He swept his aircraft left and climbed rapidly as he reached the end of the northern terminals and pulled her around hard to begin a “Z” movement which would bring him into line to turn westwards again over their new target. Preston loved this type of flying and his P-51 was like a wild Mustang at this speed and altitude.

He saw the western highway branch off from the southern road and he prepared his rockets for release. “Arming now!” Preston stated as he leveled out above the highway at 1,500 feet, saw a mass of trucks and people running in the same direction, pushed his joystick forward, and went in to fire all four of his rockets. He fired the first two at 900 feet, and counted two seconds before he fired the second set at 700 feet, before heading out of the area. As he flew over I-45 he noticed
Blue Moon
several hundred yards south of him and a few hundred feet below his altitude.

Preston suddenly saw the smoke trail of a rocket or missile rise quickly up from the ground to meet her, and take out her outer port engine. The engine literally blew up in the air and part of her outer right wing sailed down into the masses of people on the highway.

“I’m hit! I‘m hit! shouted
Blue Moon’s
pilot.

“Swing right and lazy, turn around to head over to the airport. You can make it with your height. Carlos, take over!” ordered Preston. “
Blue Moon,
I’ll cover you.”

“All aircraft stay away from the western area of the airport,” shouted
Easy Girl’s
commander over the radio.

Preston turned south in a 180 degree turn and curved around to follow the damaged aircraft now heading north directly in front of him. He knew that he still had a minute or so before the F-4s would arrive and he rose up to 2,000 feet to stay out of her way. He saw
Blue Moon
below him slowly curve to the east. He also saw Martie and Carlos flying in with explosions all the way down the mile and a half of highway they had just attacked. Suddenly the highway behind them lit up as a line of napalm followed the P-38 and spread in a rapid forward movement. He couldn’t believe his eyes as he saw a second rocket plume rise out from exactly where he had seen the first one come from, and his P-38, which had just dropped its two bombs, disappeared in a massive explosion.

Preston immediately felt numbness go through him as he forced his attention back to the crippled AC-130.

It seemed that the rest of her wing was staying in one piece. Her pilot was very experienced and had brought her around 270 degrees gently and was lining her up with the most northern runway of the airport.

The damaged aircraft was still a mile or so out when Preston closed in to the side of the aircraft and saw her wheels go down. Fire was beginning to envelope the rest of the wing.

“You need to use your inner-port engine extinguisher, Dave,” stated Preston concentrating on the aircraft getting closer and closer.

“We are ready to collect you guys at the western end of the runway. Extraction chopper incoming!”
stated somebody over the radio, but Preston was busy willing
Blue Moon
on.

She had a hundred yards to go when he saw her second engine catch fire and the flames spread to the fuselage.

“Dave, open your rear door, your whole aircraft is nearly on fire. You are going to need to get out quickly,” stated Preston, and he saw the rear door begin to open.

As the pilot put the aircraft down hard on the runway, pieces of the undercarriage flew out in all directions. The door continued to open as the aircraft, now a mass of flames on one side scraped nose-down down the tarmac and began to veer off the runway and onto the grass verge. Preston noticed a single troop transporter rushing down the runway from the east and towards
Blue Moon
.

She slowed her scraping as she hit the dirt and grass on the northern side of the runway and shapes began rolling out of the aircraft’s rear.

The flaming aircraft finally came to a sliding halt and several more shapes scrambled out of the rear. He also noticed a dozen vehicles detaching themselves from the closest terminal, less than a mile away; he pulled up and seconds later and on full power, he dropped his aircraft into a tight left turn.

Moments later
Blue Moon
erupted into a massive fireball, and he felt his aircraft jump as the shock wave hit him hard. He hoped that the crew got far enough away.

Due to his hundreds of hours flying low to the ground in his crop sprayer aircraft, Preston was used to low-level flight, and he screamed down a couple of hundred yards north of the airfield and went in fast and steep aiming for the first one of several vehicles directly in front of him. He released his two 500-pound napalm bombs at the first vehicle, an old American Dodge Ram. It was a horrible green color he noticed as he pulled back hard on the stick, felt the seat he was sitting on want to crush him from below and he pulled the Mustang into a steep vertical climb at maximum revs to get away from the blast. He didn’t know napalm bombs very well, but had learned to react fast to High Explosive bombs a few months earlier.

The two bombs hit several yards behind the lead vehicle and a stream of hot fire enveloped the several trucks and jeeps behind it. The lead vehicle was hit by the blast, but carried on towards the blossoming fireball that was once the pride of the U.S. Air Force.

It took Preston several seconds to climb and bank again, go into a near-vertical dive, and swing down to aim the P-51 towards the airfield again. He caught the lead vehicle in his sights and let go with his four cannons. Blobs of material rained off the old Dodge and he kept on firing until the gas tank exploded and bits of green bodywork blew out in all directions. He pulled away and looked at the scene below him.

“
Easy Girl
here. All aircraft resume your attack positions and runs. Stay away from the eastern edge of the airport, extraction chopper going in.”

* * *

Charlie Meyers was in the front seat of their M35 Mexican troop transporter, which was hiding between the closest buildings, across the way from the northern perimeter of the airport.

He and his men, mostly on the roof of the truck and surrounding buildings which were nothing more than burnt out houses, watched as the old propeller aircraft gracefully swept in from the east one at a time, swept around the end of the terminals and then south to line up with the highway just out of their view. It was like watching an air show.

First, three graceful P-51s came in a mile apart, left the terminal buildings alone and then a lone P-38 Lightning followed behind them. It was the most beautiful aircraft he had ever seen, and Charlie was one of the last to ever see it.

Lieutenant Meyers shouted for the men to get aboard, and then told the driver to head through a gaping hole in the fence after the pilot of
Blue Moon
came over the radio saying that his aircraft was hit. He heard another pilot tell the crippled aircraft to head for the airfield, and he told the driver to halt the truck in the fence break and wait.

It wasn’t 30 seconds later when he saw the smoking aircraft coming in slowly towards the runway from the west a couple of miles away and directly in front of them.

“We are ready to collect you guys at the western end of the runway. Extraction chopper incoming!” Charlie stated over his radio as he heard the faint throbbing of an incoming helicopter from the north. He knew that there would always be one in the vicinity of the battle just in case. “Head in slowly and stay off the tarmac,” he stated to his driver as they headed forward.

They watched as the aircraft came in and zigzagged from side to side; her wheels went down and Charlie saw that flames were eating up her starboard wing badly. He then saw the tail door begin to open as some pilot overhead gave the crippled aircraft advice.

The flaming aircraft hit the runway hard, and Charlie’s driver slowly accelerated as they still had at least a mile to go before he judged where the aircraft would stop.

The troop transporter was halfway there when the aircraft came to a grinding halt, grass and dirt spewing everywhere. Men began running and rolling out of the rear door and seconds later a massive fireball went up; her munitions inside exploded, igniting her remaining fuel tanks on the other wing. The blast hit their truck hard but the driver kept on going forward.

“Vehicles coming out of the terminal a mile away,” shouted Charlie to the men in the rear as they closed. He also saw a lone P-51 swoop up vertically, turn on a dime and come down in a fast dive towards the approaching vehicles. Two black shapes released themselves from under its wings; the aircraft went vertical again, and the whole area behind the lead truck enveloped itself into a running fireball of napalm. Lieutenant Meyers had seen this often and was extremely glad he wasn’t in that group.

The driver was aiming for the closest group of airmen lying still on the ground as Charlie watched the P-51 go into a climb, roll and then for the second time, come down vertically, like an acrobatic aircraft, and head towards the last remaining enemy truck. Within seconds it was also a fireball, and he scanned the area to make sure that there were no more.

His driver came to a sliding halt a hundred feet away from the closest men. There could be more explosions, and the area was already extremely hot.

“Everybody out!” Lieutenant Meyers screamed and exited the door. “I want a perimeter for a chopper LZ! Eight men make a perimeter, the rest help with the closest men to the aircraft first. Pull them away from the burning aircraft!”

Charlie headed for the five bodies still lying still on the ground. He could see blackened flight suits and he reached the first one and began dragging him away from the fire. The man was unconscious and looked red and sunburned. He heard the Jolly Green Giant coming in behind him, and seconds later several men arrived from the helicopter and help drag away the remaining bodies.

Within a minute the entire crew of Blue Moon was in the chopper and it lifted off.

“Back to our limo, let’s go and see what remains in the terminals. This fight isn’t over yet,” Charlie Meyers shouted, running back to the truck as three P-51s flew low overhead.