That Others May Live: A Brief History of U.S. Combat Search and Rescue Operations in Southeast Asia

The story of Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR) in Vietnam is one of unmatched bravery coupled with costly lessons that were counted in lost lives and captured aviators. Throughout the war, the challenge of conducting CSAR operations was hampered not by the men who flew these missions, but by inadequate equipment and the systemic loss of experienced aircrews. Although those involved with these missions were quick to understand the need for better tactics and dedicated search and rescue aircraft, the lack of commitment from decision-makers hamstrung these efforts. To make up for this deficiency, CSAR crews were forced to improvise and develop a unique set of tactics in the face of a determined and cunning foe.

At the start of significant American involvement in the war, there was little to no understanding of the unique mission requirements of CSAR operations in the jungles of Vietnam. These early failures revealed the dire need for leadership, tactics, and equipment that were better suited for the task.

In the early 1960s, the prevailing method of conducting CSAR was simply to send in unescorted helicopters or teams of infantry toward the suspected location of a downed airman in the hours or days after the incident and hope for the best.

Having already developed tactics for dealing with the French Armée de l’Air, the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army were quick to capitalize on the slow and predictable reaction of their new enemy. By this time, it was routine for the communist fighters to shoot down an enemy aircraft and simply lay ambushes for the inevitable search party.

Nowhere was this fiasco more evident than in October 1963.

After the loss of a Farm Gate T-28 near the Laotian border west of Da Nang, a pair of US Marine H-34s were dispatched to the crash site to find the pilot.

Neither helicopter returned.

The next day, two South Vietnamese infantry companies led by American advisors were landed in the area. Both companies were immediately ambushed. The next morning, the remnants of the ARVN infantry found the wreckage of both helicopters. By then, it was far too late to save anyone. Ten of the 12 passengers and crew aboard had been killed and the other two passengers had presumably been captured.

A subsequent rescue team led by US Air Force Major Alan Saunders was airlifted the next day to search for the T-28 wreckage. After finding the plane (but not the pilot), Saunders and his team returned to the pickup zone. When the first helicopter came in for a landing, enemy fire crippled the bird and forced it to set down. Stuck in hostile territory, Saunders and his men attempted to repair the crashed bird without success.

After returning several days later to look for the missing T-28 pilot once again, Saunders and his team were caught in a fierce ambush and narrowly avoided being killed or captured. Despite a three-day intensive search, they never found the pilot.

Early mission reports are replete with such failures.

By 1964, it had become evident to men like Saunders that the enemy was intent on using downed airmen as bait to draw in more aircraft and shoot them down. In order for a successful rescue to be conducted, the deadly “flak trap” would first need to be “solved” before sending in recovery crews.

The failure to halt the insurgency in South Vietnam combined with wider political events soon made it clear to American advisers that the war would grow to a long-term commitment. More missions would be flown and more aircrews would be shot down. If American pilots were to stand a chance of rescue in the harsh environment of South East Asia, the United States military would need a dedicated Search and Rescue service to conduct this task. In June of 1964, the Air Force was directed to send Search and Rescue units to Vietnam and Thailand.

Although the men who formed the backbone of these small units were well-trained and eager to execute their mission, they were hobbled by their own equipment. The HH-43 Huskie (nicknamed “Pedro”) helicopter, though versatile, had limited range and speed. It proved adequate for aircrew recovery near runways or near a friendly base, but sorely lacked the attributes needed for performing safe and timely rescues in the triple canopy jungles and dense forest that dominated the landscape of South East Asia.

The HH-43 Pedro in action.

At the same time, tactics were being developed in hopes of defeating the “flak trap” and providing the safest and quickest methods of aircrew recovery. A-1 rescue escort aircraft began working together with HH-43 helicopters and HU-16 control ships. These teams were at first organic in nature but soon took on a more formal structure as the slow-moving propeller driven Skyraiders proved time and again to be well-suited for suppressing enemy troops and AAA guns. Soon enough, informal techniques of the trade became formal tactics that were taught and passed on from experienced airmen to new crews.

The new method of rescue involved 1.) locating the downed airman 2.) determining the enemy presence and disposition and 3.) coordinating suppression of the enemy to make helicopter recovery possible. In these early years, command and control was achieved through a combination of ground and airborne controllers. Forward Air Controllers in the slow and fragile O-1 “Bird Dog” were used to direct fast moving aircraft to their targets. Safety guidelines for ordnance were developed to help avoid killing or wounding friendlies. Aircrews worked out rules and best practices for controlling airspace and directing fast-moving jet traffic through a narrow corridor of operations.

An A-1E Skyraider escorts an HH-3.

Meanwhile, enemy tactics and equipment improved as well. Soviet and Chinese-manufactured AAA guns were imported and employed to protect high value targets along the Ho Chi Minh trail and in Viet Cong-controlled areas of South Vietnam. North Vietnamese commanders received instruction from Soviet advisors as to the best placement of guns and the training of their crews.

Month after month, the growing American commitment was matched by generous amounts of Soviet and Chinese military aid. This ensured that both the quality and quantity of anti-aircraft guns would expand exponentially along with the threat to US pilots. Despite the growing danger, the bulk of 1965 had men performing an increasing number of CSAR missions with aircraft and equipment that were wholly inadequate to the task at hand. But changes were on the horizon.

In November 1965, the first of the HH-3E Jolly Green Giants arrived in Bien Hoa. A month later, six more of the helos were added to SAR inventory along with dozens more Huskies and dedicated SAR personnel.

The HH-3 Jolly Green Giant represented a leap forward in terms of range and durability compared to the Huskies. Crewed by four men (a pilot, copilot, flight mechanic, and gunner), these teams learned to work together to effect pickup of downed airmen. With dedicated and highly trained pararescue personnel aboard to assist with recovery efforts and give medical treatment, the Jolly Green crews were uniquely suited to the task of Combat Search and Rescue.

Soon, other SAR-dedicated aircraft arrived. The HC-130 was a versatile airborne command and communication aircraft with air-to-air refueling capability for the Jolly Greens. The hard lessons learned from earlier attempts at CSAR were finally being applied. Signs of growth were evident throughout the CSAR community.

An AC-130 refuels an HH-53 over Southeast Asia.

In January 1966, a subtle change in naming convention signaled another shift in Combat Search and Rescue doctrine and approach in theater. The Air Rescue Service had its name altered to the Aerospace Rescue and Recovery Service.  The small and dispersed units across South East Asia were amalgamated into the 3^rd Aerospace Rescue and Recovery Group, which adopted the motto “That Others May Live”. The group was split into four ARRS squadrons (the 37^th,  38^th, and 39^th, and 40^th), which were further divided into detachments spread out among bases across Thailand, Laos, and South Vietnam.

Despite these advances, CSAR in Vietnam would face its greatest challenges yet. 1967 marked the year of escalating air strikes against North Vietnam as the United States attempted to bring its foe to its knees. To cope with the burgeoning demand for CSAR operations, the 3^rd ARRG divided its area of responsibility into five sectors. Two Rescue Coordination Centers were established in November to coordinate rescue operations.

At this point in the war, Air Force studies had proven conclusively that speed was an essential determinant of CSAR success rates. After just 10 minutes on the ground, a downed aircrew faced a much higher chance of being captured. After one hour, capture was a near certainty.

Further highlighting the need for speed was the high chance of aircrew injury after ejection and the need for immediate medical attention. To decrease response time, fixed-wing SAR aircraft were directed to pre-determined orbits near areas of friendly airstrike activity. In Laos, rescue helicopters were stationed at remote landing areas known as Forward Operating Locations or “Lima Sites” and their crews were kept on daily alert.

Other improvements to the Air Force aircraft inventory helped speed the CSAR effort. The O-2 Skymaster was a modified Cessna aircraft that replaced the slower and more vulnerable O-1 Bird Dog as a Forward Air Control vehicle. Despite being a step up from its predecessor, it was far from perfect. The Skymaster was outfitted with a cumbersome communications system that required the FAC to shift his attention from flying the plane to using its three radios.

In June of 1967, the first HH-53 “Super Jolly Green Giant” arrived. This was the first helicopter specifically designed for Combat Search and Rescue. Though it was similar in appearance to the HH-3, it was vastly different in terms of armament and lift power, giving the helicopter a huge boost to its hover capability and the ability to suppress nearby enemies when attempting a pickup.

By this time, helicopter SAR crews had worked out the most suitable team tactics for pickups. One helicopter, designated the “low bird”, would perform the actual rescue while the “high bird” would circle above and swoop in and rescue everyone if the low bird was shot down while performing its mission.

Col. Robert Maloy (left) and Cpt. William Paul (right) after being rescued on Oct. 15, 1967. 

Likewise, search tactics for A-1 Skyraiders had evolved into “high search” and “low search” teams that worked together in pairs. With its extensive payload (greater than that of a B-17 Flying Fortress), durability, and high fuel capacity, the Skyraider turned out to be an indispensable tool for Combat Search and Rescue missions. Nicknamed “Sandy”, the propeller-driven aircraft seemed like a relic from another time, and yet it was highly regarded for its ability to provide accurate and deadly close air support against enemy AAA guns and infantry.

In the late 1960s, Combat Search and Rescue turned into something of an art among its practitioners. By this time, a skilled cadre of dedicated SAR pilots began passing on their knowledge and experience to incoming pilots, many of whom had been originally trained for air-to-air roles against Soviet bombers instead of air-to-ground combat in South East Asia. 

An April 1967 classified report by US Military Assistance Command, Vietnam begins: “From the early days of this conflict, when rescue attempts were often more valiant than organized, the Search and Rescue efforts in Southeast Asia have grown into a large, well-coordinated, disciplined and experienced activity.”

Despite this significant “leveling up” in SAR capability, both the number and enormity of challenges persisted for rescue crews, not the least of which was the systemic rotation of experienced crews out of the theater once they completed their tour in South East Asia. Though these men could always be replenished with new pilots and helicopter crews, the steady depletion of veteran SAR practitioners undercut the mission success rate throughout the war.

Another constant problem were the limitations brought on by nature itself. Without aircraft that were capable of night or all-weather operations, Search and Rescue missions were confined to daylight hours. Pilots who might be on the ground for an extended period could not be picked up in the darkness and would face a night (sometimes two or three) alone in the jungle surrounded by an enemy that could conduct its own search without fear of aerial bombardment.

Likewise, the climate of South East Asia with its monsoons, low cloud cover, rainy seasons, and unpredictable weather patterns would often bring SAR operations to a grinding halt before a rescue could be performed. Visual contact with downed aircrew remained a problem. Establishing a pilot’s exact whereabouts in the lush jungle or forest terrain was a daunting task that consumed precious time and resources.

Enemy tactics also improved. The NVA were quick to learn the patterns of Air Force and Army operations in the field. Radio triangulation methods were used to track down ejected pilots who spent too long communicating with the SAR force as it circled overhead. The North Vietnamese also learned to watch for smoke grenades from downed pilots to mark their location before pickup, and were quick to “pop” smoke of the same color in a bid to confuse the rescue team or even lure the helicopters into their gun sights.

Of course, if the NVA captured a pilot, it was not uncommon to coerce their prisoner into sending radio calls for help in an attempt to lure the rescue team into a trap. The Americans developed a verification system to help sort out false calls from real ones.

Sifting through the countless CSAR mission reports of the time, it becomes apparent that a combination of firepower, luck, distraction, and guesswork were needed to pull off a successful rescue even under ideal daylight weather conditions.

George Marrett, an A-1H pilot who flew 188 combat missions during the war, many of them SAR-related, likened a typical rescue to a “stagecoach robbery”. Along with bravery, a dash of cunning was often rewarded. On one mission, Marrett was ordered to use CS gas, which would have disabled the survivor and hampered the pilots’ ability to fly their aircraft. Instead, he deployed the gas as a smoke screen that distracted NVA gunners long enough to get in to the area and pick up a downed airman.

“While the Hobos were placing gas in the jungle, my Sandy flight led the Jolly Green in for the pickup. My heart rate raced as I called for Papaya 2B to pop his Mark 13 flare. We formed a firing circle around the helicopter as he hoisted Papya 2B up the cable and into the door opening. I led the chopper through our planned exit corridor while two or three enemy anti-aircraft guns fired at us from a river valley. No one got hit; the rescue force go out in one piece. Jolly Green headed back to NKP with the survivor on board; the stagecoach robbery had been a success.” – Cheating Death, page 302

In the summer of 1969, work began on the Night Recovery System, which was meant to allow SAR operations at all hours and in inclement weather. To that end, efforts were directed toward developing enhanced low-light and infrared technology along with terrain radar. Success would mean a huge improvement in the chance of recovery while at the same time reducing the risks to the rescue team of operating in broad daylight. Although some promising advances in this area were made, they proved too little and too late.

Despite the growing need for CSAR missions due to the increasing reliance on airpower from 1970 onward, these operations were curtailed as the Americans began to withdraw from the region. The early 1970s marked a period of inactivations, transfers, and the closure of American bases throughout South East Asia. Several SAR detachments were rendered inactive by the end of 1970 and the entire 38^th ARRS was inactivated by July of the following year. Instead of requesting replacements, men and aircraft were rotated throughout the theater to make up for diminishing coverage.

During this period of “Vietnamization”, the South Vietnamese Air Force was neither trained nor equipped for Combat Search and Rescue mission. Every available helicopter pilot was trained instead for transporting troops and providing combat support. Search and rescue was considered a luxury that the South Vietnamese could simply not afford.

By 1972, a limited night recovery system was being used to help rescue pilots after sundown. FACs in the OV-10 Bronco also had a night observation system and were able to assist with locating downed pilots in the dark. The night-capable AC-130 was incorporated into search and rescue teams to provide accurate and deadly firepower.

But the enemy had not grown complacent either. The SA-7 Grail was a handheld surface-to-air missile launcher that proved deadly to slow-flying aircraft. In the first year of this weapon system’s introduction, it claimed 204 hits. Seven of these were FAC aircraft and three were CSAR A-1 Skyraiders. One was an AC-130. In response to this grave threat, the Air Force began converting fast-moving A-7D Corsairs to the role of rescue Sandy as well as Forward Air Controllers.

For the men who were engaged in this life-and-death ordeal, Combat Search and Rescue missions mattered as much – if not more than the outcome of the war itself. Failure in a Combat Search and Rescue mission meant the capture and torture of a fellow pilot.

The enemy understood that the Americans would attempt to rescue their downed airmen at nearly any price and took advantage of this principle. NVA ground commanders sought to deliberately delay capture of downed airmen in hopes of baiting vulnerable rescue helicopters as they came in for a pickup and thus draw in more and more enemy resources.

Not only would this mean potentially killing or capturing more American pilots – it also resulted in precious enemy air support being diverted from other sectors. One notable critique of Lt. Col. Iceal Hambleton’s rescue in 1972 was how costly it had been. During the rescue operation, 11 airmen were killed and two captured. During this time, the NVA made speedy advances south during the Easter Offensive in part, due to the diversion of available American airpower away from close air support missions to support the ARVN defenders.

When Hambleton was asked years later, whether his SAR rescue efforts had been worth it, he could only answer, “I don’t know.”