Jolly Green pilots receive Distinguished Flying Crosses, AF award

Published May 8, 2012
By Airman 1st Class Maeson L. Elleman
18th Wing Public Affairs

KADENA AIR BASE, Japan -- It was nearly noon when then the third call of the day came in.

Two Soldiers were wounded in combat in the Afghanistan valleys and needed helicopter evacuation.

Though already exhausted from the previous missions, the aircrew of Pedro 84 grabbed their gear as quickly as they could and ran to the two awaiting HH-60 Pave Hawks - it was a matter of life and death.

"Our only thoughts were to just get there as quickly as we could," said Capt. Louis Nolting, 33rd Rescue Squadron HH-60 pilot during the March 29, 2011, mission. "We were only five to 10 minutes from the extraction point, but we had to get all of our ducks in a row before take-off."

Despite being so close to the casualties, the situation grew even sourer - this wasn't going to be just a quick mission.

In the company of numerous U.S. Army AH-64 Apache helicopters flying close overhead, the '60s picked up radio chatter that would make anyone's blood run cold. Rather than a single extraction of two individuals in a single location, radio traffic confirmed a total of six casualties were spread across three locations under enemy fire.

"It was a higher-risk mission," said Maj. Philip Bryant, a 33rd RQS HH-60 pilot during the mission. "We had gotten Apache support to accompany our formation of two '60s."

The flight lead called in the order to "execute," and the formation proceeded through the Konar Valley. Though they overflew two of the locations, they noticed signaling devices.

After one more order from the flight lead to begin the first pickup, Nolting placed the helicopter in a 140-foot hover to deploy pararescuemen, or PJs, and begin extraction.
Directly beneath them was a 45-60-degree slope to a cliff with a mountain blocking the right side.

With Nolting in the left pilot's seat controlling the aircraft and Bryant in the right monitoring the rescue helicopter, it would be up to both pilots to maintain steady control while lowering and hoisting up the PJs and casualties.

Two PJs, strapped into the hoist, prepared to exit the aircraft, but the unthinkable happened as six distinct "pop" sounds filled the air.

"I thought it was our gunner shooting," said Nolting. "I hadn't heard shots that close before besides our gunner."

As rounds painted the side of the hovering helicopter, alarms began to sound in the cockpit as the aircraft's rotor began to slow, causing it to plummet quickly toward the ground.

"Go left! Go left! Go left!" Bryant shouted to his copilot, but Nolting had already begun to steer the aircraft's nose down and away from the mountain to attempt to get the rotor going faster and generate lift.

"We only made it because of the altitude," said Bryant. "It didn't look like any of the emergencies they talk about in our flight manual. The engine was over-temping, but it wasn't putting out any power."

Forty feet from the ground, the aircraft's rotor miraculously accelerated with the dive, but by the time Bryant took the controls, Nolting said he was running purely on survival instincts.

"As we came down, I kept looking at places to land the aircraft safely that we could defend it from," said Nolting. "And when we turned down the river, right before Phil took the controls, I was still looking for a place to land it."

Severe damage had taken its toll on the rescue chopper. Bullets had rained across the right side of the aircraft causing catastrophic damage to the right engine.

"Once we had forward air speed, [the flight engineer] got the PJs secured and was looking at the instruments with us and just recommended shutting the engine down," Bryant explained. "I played with the collective a little bit to see what the engine instruments would do, and only the number one engine - the one that wasn't affected - was responding."

Without two working engines, the helicopter could no longer hover and would have to make an emergency divert to an airfield that had a full runway instead of a helicopter landing pad.

"I started thinking 'do we have enough gas to make it?' because we could no longer go to the [forward operating base] we were supposed to go refuel at," said Bryant. "Capt. Nolting started calculating our fuel requirements, and we had just enough to make it to an Army airfield, which was about a 20-minute flight away."

With the flight lead escorting the formation, Pedro 84 made it back to the airfield with only minutes of fuel to spare. It was the quick actions of Bryant and Nolting that saved the multi-million-dollar aircraft and, more importantly, the lives of its seven crew members.

For their actions in the most unforgiving of circumstances, Bryant and Nolting were awarded Distinguished Flying Crosses during a formal ceremony here May 8. The two were applauded by Brig. Gen. Matt Molloy, 18th Wing commander, for their heroic actions that helped save the lives of the crew aboard their HH-60 that fateful day.

"I can't tell you what an honor it is to stand on this stage with Louis and Philip to present this award to them in front of their peers," the general said. "American airpower enjoys a huge safety margin because of how we train, our professionalism, our tactics, techniques and procedures such that the only thing that makes combat operations not safe is the fact that the enemy gets involved."

Following the presentation of the medals, the recipients were also honored by Maj. Gen. Gregory Feest, Air Force Chief of Safety, who presented the pilots with the Air Force Aircrew of Distinction Award. The 33rd RQS was also presented the Air Force Flight Safety plaque.