Category: This great Nation & Its People
Anyone who ever flew an Army helicopter reveres the Loach. Uncle Sam called the bizarre little egg-shaped aircraft the OH-6A Cayuse. Its official classification was Light Observation Helicopter, hence the informal appellation “Loach.” The Loach looks and sounds like a giant, angry bumble bee. It is a simply magnificent machine.
The Loach was used for scouting missions during the Vietnam War. The aircraft was flown without doors at extremely low levels. The typical crew layout was a single pilot on the right with a crew chief sitting just behind on the same side, packing an M60 belt-fed machinegun suspended from a bungee cord. Offsetting the weight on the left was an M-134 minigun in an XM21E1 mount. This electrically-powered 7.62x51mm belt-fed Gatling gun cycled at either 2,000 or 4,000 rounds per minute via a two-stage trigger. It fed from a 2,000-round ammunition magazine. The pilot sighted the minigun via a grease pencil mark on the inside of the Plexiglas canopy.
The Loach operated most commonly as part of a Pink Team. In this configuration, the Loach cruised about down low in the dirt, looking for bad guys, while one or two AH-1G Cobra gunships orbited at altitude, waiting to dive in at the first sign of trouble. The two elements maintained constant radio contact. Experienced Pink Teams were devastating killers on the battlefield. Survival and tactical effectiveness demanded both nerves of steel and exceptional pilotage.
Of all the scout pilots who served in Vietnam, one name percolates above all the rest: Lt. Col. Hugh Mills. He is a legend among Army aviators, even today. A Loach painted as his distinctive “Miss Clawd IV”, dangles proudly from the ceiling at the Army Aviation Museum at Fort Rucker. Among rotary-wing aviators, that is the Army’s highest accolade. Lt. Col. Mills earned every bit of that love.
A Hard Day in Hell
In the summer of 1969, then-Lieutenant High Mills piloted his agile little Loach as the bottom half of a hunter-killer Pink Team. In the back was his regular crew chief, Jim Parker. Mills and Parker had flown together for months and were forged into an exceptionally effective scout team. On this fateful day, they were clearing the route for a supply convoy along a length of highway called Thunder Road.
Without warning, Mills’ Loach was engaged by a well-sited VC .50-caliber machine gun. One of the big thumb-sized rounds punched through the leading edge of one of the Loach’s four rotor blades about four feet from the tip. There resulted a skull-crushing vibration as the hearty Loach clawed to stay in the air.
Mills retained control of the stricken aircraft, but only just. He guided the doomed helicopter to a controlled crash on a nearby flat piece of rice paddy. Parker split his chin on the front sight of his M60, but both aviators were otherwise unhurt. They cleared the aircraft with Parker’s M60 and a seven-foot belt of ammo along with Mills’ CAR-15 and a bandoleer of magazines.
Mills spotted a pair of VC soldiers shooting at them with AK-47s from about 175 yards away. He fired a burst from his CAR-15 as Parker sprayed the area with his M60. Both enemy soldiers fell, but they just kicked over the anthill.
A substantial VC force began slathering the crash site with fire and moving toward the two trapped aviators. Parker returned to the crashed aircraft to retrieve more M60 ammo as Mills covered him with his CAR-15. Meanwhile, the high-cover Snake pummeled the tree line with 2.75″ rockets and minigun fire. However, the Cobra soon ran out of ammo.
Just when it seemed like all was lost, a nearby Infantry Brigade commander in a command-and-control aircraft dropped down to make an emergency extraction. Parker and Mills clambered aboard the hovering Huey and made their escape before the remaining VC could stop them.
Turning an NVA Pot into a Colander
During that same summer, Mills and Parker were tearing along in their Loach on a routine trip into Dau Tieng for a briefing. They had a G-model Cobra flying top cover. As they pitched over a ridgeline, Mills surprised an NVA heavy weapons platoon on the march. Without hesitation, he opened up with his minigun at close range as Parker unlimbered his M60. The NVA troops answered with a fusillade of AK-47 fire.
A pair of NVA soldiers tore off down a paddy dike toward the wood line and cover. The nearer of the two enemy soldiers carried a big cooking pot that flapped against his back as he ran. Mills quickly pivoted his nimble little aircraft, lined up the grease pencil mark on his canopy and triggered a quick squirt from his minigun. His burst passed through the nearest NVA soldier and into his buddy, killing them both.
Mills chased the remaining NVA troops around the paddy until both he and Parker ran out of ammo. Parker then unlimbered both his M16 as well as a 12-gauge pump shotgun. Meanwhile, Mills steadied the collective lever with his knee and emptied six rounds left-handed from his personal .357 Magnum revolver at the fleeing enemy troops. Once completely out of ammunition, Mills rolled clear so the orbiting Snake could pulverize the area with 2.75″ rockets packing flechette warheads.
In two minutes of unfettered combat, their Loach had been hit 25 times. The airspeed indicator and altimeter were both blown away, and the armor plate underneath Parker’s seat had caught two rounds. Mills’ seat armor stopped several more. Five rounds shattered the Plexiglas canopy, two hit the tail boom, and another three struck the rotor blades. One AK round transited the engine compartment but missed anything significant. Another shot the op rod off of Parker’s M60.
Supporting ARP (Aero Rifle Platoon) grunts subsequently inserted and swept the area. They cataloged 26 KIA and seized a pair of POWs along with a large number of AK-47 rifles, an SGM heavy machinegun, a 60mm mortar and a pair of Russian pistols. When they returned to base, the infantry troops presented Lt. Col. Mills with a cooking pot sporting 24 bullet holes.
The Rest of the Story
While serving three combat tours in Vietnam, Lt. Col. Hugh Mills earned three Silver Stars, three Bronze Stars, four Distinguished Flying Crosses, and the Legion of Merit. He was shot down an amazing 16 times and was wounded three times in combat. He ultimately flew 3,300 combat hours in OH-6A and AH-1G helicopters. His record as a combat aviator will never be bested.
The OH-6A was tragically replaced by the Bell OH-58 in Army service. Both aircraft shared a common engine, but in my opinion the Loach was a massively better aircraft. I flew OH-58’s myself, and we all mourned the passing of the Loach. However, that was not the last Uncle Sam saw of this extraordinary little machine.
The Task Force 160 SOAR (Special Operations Aviation Regiment), better known as the Night Stalkers, adopted the OH-6 in an upgraded form as the MH-6 Little Bird. They call it the “Killer Egg.” These immensely capable machines feature an upgraded powertrain along with a more efficient five-bladed rotor system.
The Night Stalkers use both an armed gunship version of the aircraft as well as slick-sided variant designed for covert insertion of special operators in places where stealth and speed are of the essence. If ever I win the lottery, my first call will be to my wife. My second will be to Boeing to pick up an MH-6 of my own.
Lt. Col. Mills penned a book about his exploits in Vietnam titled Low Level Hell. It is an amazing read that is just packed with action along with plenty of cool commentary about small arms. It is available on Amazon.
I once had a friend and patient named Mrs. Nell. She was an elderly woman who lived alone and spent her free time building things in her workshop. In my experience, that’s kind of rare. Most of the serious carpenters I have known were guys.
Mrs. Nell was good at what she did. I have a mirror hanging in my bedroom that she made from repurposed lumber harvested from an old ramshackle building. That woman knew her way around a table saw.
A gifted woodworker can do some of the most amazing things
with these simple woodworking tools. However, they will tear
you up in the absence of close attention.
Notoriously Unforgiving of Inattention
The reason I knew Mrs. Nell so well was that I sewed her hands up, like a lot. To my recollection, I reassembled her fingers at least four times after she got mixed up with her power tools. She was a stoic lass who never complained. I’d just get the lay of the land, numb her up, and enjoy some spirited conversation while I put all the shredded meat back where God had it in the first place.
Eventually, her family grew weary of bringing her to the clinic to have me put her fingers back together. Women who live alone and are master carpenters are, in my experience, predictably headstrong. Mrs. Nell did not heed advice from well-meaning family members. They thought if they enlisted my assistance perhaps, I could talk some sense into her. Once she was well into her eighties, they asked me to tell her to stay out of her workshop. I politely declined to do so.
Once they left, and it was just the two of us, I told Mrs. Nell to do whatever she felt comfortable and capable of doing. So long as it didn’t hurt anyone else, I saw no harm in her working in her shop right up until Jesus called her home. It wasn’t like I needed the business or wanted to see her hurt herself. Quite the contrary, compared to most of her peers, Mrs. Nell was one of the most self-actualized, satisfied and happy senior citizens I knew. She had the option of aging gracefully. She simply made a conscious choice not to do so.
Imponderables
Mrs. Nell is gone now. And no, she didn’t trip and fall face-first into her router. Like most folks, she died of natural causes. However, she was active and created things right up until the end, which kept her mind sharp and her spirit even sharper. She built stuff and then gave it away to the people she loved. That’s where I got my mirror. Along the way, she also inspired me.
I am going to be the most horrible, old, demented man. I have already apologized to my children in advance. When the time comes for them to relieve me of my car keys or change the locks on the hangar where I keep my little fighter plane, I guarantee you I will not go easy into that good night.
I tell people that my life goal is to meet Jesus at the bottom of a smoking hole with the tail of an airplane between my shoulder blades at around age ninety. I mean that as a joke, but not really. I have little interest in whiling away the last decade of my life in a puddle of drool, unable to remember the names of those who love me. To quote the Kurgan from the epic 1986 movie Highlander, “It’s better to burn out than to fade away!”
Introspection
I’m 57 years old and am a man mightily blessed. I have a family that loves me, and I get paid to shoot guns and then tell the IRS it’s actually work. I honestly don’t know why God is so good to me. I also have no idea what the final chapter of my life’s story will look like. I like to think I’ll go out having caught a bullet intended for my wife or something comparably awesome. Alas, I’ll likely trip over my weed eater and break my neck or choke to death on a grape. Regardless, it’s already been a great run.
In addition to being a simply superb woodworker, Mrs. Nell was also both kind and wise. She’s been gone for years now, but I think she still has a great deal to teach us even today. Treat others as you might like to be treated and live life on your own terms. Find something you love and strive daily to remain productive. Bless others with the talents and resources God has given you.
Where someone else might see a pile of discarded garbage from a demolished house, Mrs. Nell saw potential. She could take rubbish back to her workshop and turn it into something beautiful, useful and cool. If your fingers get a bit banged up in the process, that’s honestly a pretty small price to pay for a long, richly lived life.



One hundred and sixty two years ago today, these men tried to capture Ft Wagner near Charleston SC during the war between the states. they did not take it but did establish an offical place in the US Army for the Black Man that has never been taken away. Grumpy
