In 1967, SOG made history by using the launch technique H. A. L. O. (High Altitude, Low Opening) on enemy territory, while at war.
Not even two years later, Baker Team B was following suit.
The eight soldiers sat quietly waiting in their row of seats, focused on the red light and at the ready for their 'go'.
They were all dressed in black and had their helmets, glasses and oxygen masks on.
They’d become one and the same and there was no way of telling them apart.
They took slow deep breathes under their masks to keep as much oxygen in as possible, hoping to decrease any side effects the launch could cause. Too much oxygen had side effects as well however, sometimes causing euphoria and faint. With so many variables to consider, it’s easy to understand why HALO jumps were always that dangerous. Cold temperatures and adrenaline didn't work well together either because when your heart rate goes up, so too do your chances of passing out.
Surviving the jump was therefore, just a question of sang-froid.
“TWO MINUTES!” the pilot exclaimed.
Rambo sat in his seat tapping his foot on the metal floor breathing in and out of his high-altitude mask.
Almost all of them were armed with Uzis, a compact, Israeli-made sub machine gun, perfect for close-range engagements and much easier to jump with than a Colt XM assault rifle.
When they expected to have a real battle on their hands, Coletta and Jorgenson generally armed themselves with M16s.
The pilot looked at the team and said: “ONE MINUTE,” pointing his index finger up.
On cue, Rambo rose to his feet and stood under the red light.
He could feel the plane vibrating under him.
In succession, they all got up.
The team moved slowly to the launch pad and got into a straight line.
They all had the same mask on, including the man standing at the hold door, who, upon fastening his spring clip, reached for the button.
Freezing gusts of wind swept through the passenger compartment almost instantly, as the red probe light from the ear-piercing alarm sounded, filling the room with adrenalin.
Rambo looked into the darkness below.
He couldn't see anything at all, not a single city in the distance.
Therefore, they still didn't have any kind of reference point yet.
“GO! GO! GO!” said the man at the hold door as he pointed down below.
Rambo ran up the launching pad and threw himself right into the void.
There was pitch-black darkness surrounding him, with winds reaching three hundred knots hitting with explosive force.
Danforth, Ortega and Messner followed shortly behind jumping out and disappearing into the night instantly, as though they’d never been there.
Not long later, everyone was gone.
The jump had uncovered small area on his neck and Rambo could feel the freezing air stinging him.
He locked his jaw and opened his arms up to slow down.
Rambo had been the first to jump so he was the closest to landing and last in line.
If he wanted to regroup with the others however, he’d have to slow his free fall down.
That’s when for the first time he noticed some small, blue spots, attached to every member’s back, meant to show position.
Rambo had slowed down a little too much however, so he uncrossed his arms again so he could reach down the others.
Just a few seconds of free fall later, Rambo caught sight of the red dots they’d been looking for
Finally – he thought.
Those dots were the three villages he had to use as a reference point.
In the middle of the three, he expected to find the reflection of the moon in the water of a paddy,
because that was the place to land. It was probably too soon for that reflection to be visible though.
Rambo spread his arms and moved to adjust his position in the formation.
The one down there, in front of everyone, must have been Ortega.
Something whirled in the air and Rambo felt it moving past him.
Next thing you know, he was hit by some kind of thunder.
Rambo turned to look fast, with his heart pumping hard inside him.
Was that what he was afraid it was?
Easy – he told inside.
You can still run out of oxygen, if you panic.
Easy does it, slider.
Whatever it is, it isn’t important: stay calm, or you’ll pass out.
Passing out in a free-fall meant dying, of course.
Rambo could feel his heart slowing down like was controlling it. In reality, he was. He was actually doing it. He had become a fucking animal.
Under any other circumstance, it wouldn't have worked.
That’s always how it worked.
That night however, was different. That moment, on that jump, at that altitude, free-falling over North Vietnam was different. That night Rambo had even slowed his own heart rate down.
When the second burst of force hit, thunder followed and this time he saw a green blast flashing in the dark. It was as straight as a laser and almost geometric, as to confirm his terror.
High-calibre tracers – he told himself.
They’re shooting at us with an anti-air weapon.
Rambo flipped over for a few seconds, and saw that the green light was finally starting to change its route curving as it slowed down.
They can't bloody well know about us.
There’s no way.
Yet not only had they located them, they were shooting at them as well.
No, that’s not possible.
Rambo saw other green lights draw various lines a bit everywhere, so it seemed as though they were looking for him.
As he and his teammates continued their fall, his inability to take cover made him feel helpless, almost naked.
There’s no way they can see us – he said to himself.
Your heart, watch your heart. Watch your breathing.
Breathe slower.
Slow your heart rate down.
No one in the world even knows HALO jumps exist yet.
How could those goddamn Vietcong possibly know then?
That’s the thought that calmed him down once and for all.
It was also the same thought that explained everything.
They were aiming at the plane.
That’s it. They were aiming at the plane above them and if one those giant bullets (because they were anti-materiel bullets) actually ended up hitting any of them it would have been nothing more than a terrible accident.
At that point, Rambo asked himself point blank what he should do about it: nothing.
He and the others had no way of communicating as long as they were free-falling and the only one who could decide whether to deviate from the original course was Ortega because he was leading the group. In the dark however, the only way to see him was by spotting the tiny, fluorescent sticker on the back of his neck. The reason for it being there was so that the team could see it as they looked down and consequently follow him, but the enemy he was facing in the other direction couldn't. The sticker made him easy enough to follow but wasn’t a means of communicating.
Ortega didn't change course, and the machine gun resumed fire.
This time the green flash came so close to Rambo he felt the air shift again.
Goddamn shots. Those shots were distracting him.
The village lights below grew clearer and he could now see the reflections in the water of his rice field objective.
He was exactly in position. The entire team was.
Rambo looked at the glowing, tritium-made hands of his Seiko watch: only seconds away.
Three,
Two,
One.
Rambo opened his parachute and the backlash was immediate.
Once the rebound had ended, he started manoeuvring the straps. Not only did he need to set the glide straight, but he also had to alter his speed and slow himself down.
The anti-air machine gun shot again, but this time the shots were much higher above them. That was what finally convinced Rambo the VCs were shooting at the plane and not at them.
The idea itself that the Viets were actually shooting at them was ludicrous, and had been from the start.