Near Misses - Sharing Invaluable Life Experiences

[Straight Arrow]

It was monsoon season; the South China Sea shore of Vietnam was socked-in with clouds hugging the coastline. Three Army troops from my company had a flight out of Cam Ranh Bay scheduled to take them home after a long year’s tour in a place they were pleased to leave. They pleaded with me to fly them down the coast to meet their flight departure time. Familiar with that coastline, I reluctantly agreed and we cranked up the UH-1 Huey, Big Kahuna 749, appropriately named by the young Hawaiian crew chief.

The ceiling was at several hundred feet so we could make our way along the shore with adequate visibility. However, the miles long peninsula north of Nha Trang was covered with a dense cloud with a “sucker hole” clear opening through the saddle where it connected to the mainland, with jungle slopes on both sides. I instructed the young warrant officer at the controls to “take the short-cut” through the saddle opening in the clouds. Midway though the saddle, the exclamation of “incoming!” from the crew chief was not welcome to any of us. The explosion under the aircraft tail boom was deafening and rocked the helicopter tail-up and nose-down. The young warrant froze and I yelled, “I got it!” I took the controls, bottomed the pitch and began a series of diving s-turns down to the beach beyond the saddle. I set the Huey down facing out to the sea and told the warrant officer to depart quickly if I went down as I inspected the damage. The crew chief described the explosion of an RPG (rocket propelled grenade) and expressed relief that his Big Kahuna still had an intact tail boom. Amazingly, the aircraft sustained no obvious damage.

The troops who were headed to their departing flight were almost hysterical and kept saying, “Now we know we gotta get outa this place!”

The remainder of the flight to Cam Ranh Bay and back to Qui Nhon was uneventful and included a long diversion around the peninsula and a flight path out over the South China Sea, low level with the skids just above the waves. You can understand why, to this day, I don’t take short-cuts!

 

[jake23]

It was monsoon season; the South China Sea shore of Vietnam was socked-in with clouds hugging the coastline. Three Army troops from my company had a flight out of Cam Ranh Bay scheduled to take them home after a long year’s tour in a place they were pleased to leave. They pleaded with me to fly them down the coast to meet their flight departure time. Familiar with that coastline, I reluctantly agreed and we cranked up the UH-1 Huey, Big Kahuna 749, appropriately named by the young Hawaiian crew chief.

The ceiling was at several hundred feet so we could make our way along the shore with adequate visibility. However, the miles long peninsula north of Nha Trang was covered with a dense cloud with a “sucker hole” clear opening through the saddle where it connected to the mainland, with jungle slopes on both sides. I instructed the young warrant officer at the controls to “take the short-cut” through the saddle opening in the clouds. Midway though the saddle, the exclamation of “incoming!” from the crew chief was not welcome to any of us. The explosion under the aircraft tail boom was deafening and rocked the helicopter tail-up and nose-down. The young warrant froze and I yelled, “I got it!” I took the controls, bottomed the pitch and began a series of diving s-turns down to the beach beyond the saddle. I set the Huey down facing out to the sea and told the warrant officer to depart quickly if I went down as I inspected the damage. The crew chief described the explosion of an RPG (rocket propelled grenade) and expressed relief that his Big Kahuna still had an intact tail boom. Amazingly, the aircraft sustained no obvious damage.

The troops who were headed to their departing flight were almost hysterical and kept saying, “Now we know we gotta get outa this place!”

The remainder of the flight to Cam Ranh Bay and back to Qui Nhon was uneventful and included a long diversion around the peninsula and a flight path out over the South China Sea, low level with the skids just above the waves. You can understand why, to this day, I don’t take short-cuts!

That’s bad A$$. Thanks for sharing!

 

[ZBB]

It was 07 I think in Iraq, a different platoons cherry Lt. lost his notebook FULL of future operation, grids to our areas and who knows what other info that could be used against us in a little canal next to this compound we always parked next to. We go out my squad leader and I are kicking around in like 5 foot high cat-tails or whatever weird vegetation they have over there and I see this two inch wide by about 4 foot long thing of wood that was wrapped up with tape and had a 9v battery on the end. I said hey is that a pressure plate? My squad leader was maybe two arms lengths away and it was between us. We got out of the little canal and there ended up being two 155 rounds hooked to a pressure plate with a dead battery.

Another time in high school my buddy and I were out four wheeling with a couple girls in his tracker, he hit a deep puddle and got his distributor wet. Him and I got out to look things over, he didn’t put his e-brake in and the tracker started rolling back towards this 10-15 foot cut bank, I ran over jumped through the driver window and pulled the e brake stopping it before it went over with the girls in the backseat...didn’t receive the praise I thought I deserved for that one.

Last and the one that scared me the most, my buddy and I were going to a party I told my parents I wouldn’t go to. We were past the point in the road that I could’ve explained anything other than what we were doing. Driving up over a hill I heard a weird sound coming out of the rear end of my truck and about 10 seconds later the whole rear end locked up and the drive shaft blew out of the transfer case. Had to walk a couple miles to a casino and call my dad and tell him the rear end went out in my truck driving to a party I wasn’t suppose to go to.
Life lessons I guess

 

[Kotimaki]

S.E.AK , early nineties.. Unnamed mountain pushed the envelope a little too far. Had hiked for better than half the day to get above a lone billy. By the time I got where I needed to be the clouds had me blinded with weather on the way in. Ill just wait a bit and see turned into a little longer , then a little longer , then an opening in the clouds. At the shot , he walked to the edge , stumbled and tumbled. On this day gravity was not my friend as now I had to decend about 500 verticle to get to him. I figured I would just pick a new route down afterwards. It was dark and snowing by the time I finished boning him out, and I was cliffed in. Back up was the only route out and it was dark and still snowing. Ended up camped out in a goat hide at treeline overnight in a pretty decent blizzard. Fun stuff....

 

[Deleted member 18333]

Back in the early 2000's I was in South Africa for work. Had a couple days to spare so my brother, who lived in SA at the time, and I arranged a quick hunt on a nearby ranch. We were after bushbuck along a river corridor. The ranch owner provided a guide, Jackson, gave some quick instructions and sent us along our way. One of the instructions was to stay away from the edge of the river due to crocs. I felt like he was exaggerating to make the hunt seem more adventurous and gave the instruction little attention. After jumping a bushbuck in some heavy cover and not making a killing shot, the bushbuck jumped into the river and tried to cross. I was able to get on a cutbank on the edge of the river and hit the bushbuck again as it was swimming across the river. It thrashed around and eventually started to slowly float away. My brother and I looked at Jackson and asked if he was going to go in an get it. He just shook his head "No". The bushbuck was not very far into the river, maybe 20-25 feet from the edge. I took my boots and pants off and jumped in. I could walk all the way to the floating bushbuck and not get in water above my waist. I grabbed the buck, hauled him back to the edge where my brother grabbed him and pulled him from the water. No harm, no foul. Later that night back at camp the ranch owner came to me to ask if it was true that I had gotten into the river to retrieve the bushbuck. I said yes , and he asked if I had recalled him saying to stay away from the river. I told him yes I had but that I thought he was exaggerating the point. He said he was not and that in the morning I needed to leave and that I was not welcome back.

Still not sure if I was in any actual danger but he seemed to think so. I have not been back to Africa since. For a variety of reasons.

 

[Cav1]

I did a detailed write-up with lessons learned about spending an unintended night in the mountains in a snowstorm last winter.

Why I Always Carry Survival Gear

Ah, what we do for public land wapiti...In the old movie The Mountainmen, when Brian Keith’s character is asked if he’s ever been lost, he replies, “Naw. Fearsome confused for a month or two but I ain’t never been lost.” Same goes for me. I wasn’t lost per se, I just couldn’t make it back to the...

www.hunttalk.com

 

[pre6422hornet]

Colorado 1998. My first ever western hunt. 24 years old.

I had dropped a nice cow elk during the third season and I marked the spot with my GPS and hiked back down to the truck to get some help from friends who had the 4 wheelers. We started back up the trail and when we were at the correct elevation, the man leading the way turned around and said " follow me". I did and about 200 yards later he tried to go around a fallen tree, the wheeler tipped over, and both he and the wheeler started rolling down the mountain.

I squeezed the brakes and to my utter horror, the wheeler started rolling backwards down the mountain. Instead of just feathering the throttle to keep it motionless I decided to try and drive it backwards down the trail.... bad idea.

I hit a rock, tree, something.. and the wheeler came back over the top. I jumped off, rifle strapped across my back and started rolling down the mountain, along with the wheeler. I stopped. The wheeler kept going, and going, until eventually coming to rest in a gully, still running and upright.

I looked down and the brake lever was still in my right hand. It snapped off at some point. My rifle barrel was full of mud, I had a few scratches but was okay. My friend wasn't so lucky. He had a baseball sized lump on his head and we had to help him off the mountain. His wheeler was okay too. Just some plastic broke off. He said he stopped rolling and looked up and saw the wheeler I was riding barely miss my head as I was rolling underneath it.

I definitely had an angel looking over my shoulder that day. We still went up and quartered the elk, but I walked the entire rest of the trip. I realized then that wheelers were not made to go across a mountain and it was best to hike it from a groomed trail.

We did also determine that the wheeler I was riding... the brakes were frozen. We sure had some words for our other friend who owned it and had assured us he had went over everything before we left from Ohio.

Ever since then, my boots have become the mode of transportation when I hit the mountains.

 

[Pucky Freak]

Way too many close calls and I've made enough stupid decisions to end up dead 30 times over. Am much more cautious now that I have a family. A sample of hard lessons: don't tightrope wet logs across whitewater streams, check weather before picking how warm of a sleeping bag, bring hand spikes when walking on questionable ice, let someone else be the first to drive their truck on the frozen lake, no round in the chamber when crossing obstacles, pass on shots just below skyline, always hang bear pack (1 bear fight in a lifetime is 1 too many), when your hair stands on end you've seriously misjudged lighting strike risk, drive slow when foggy to avoid deer collisions, don't assume other hunters are wearing required orange clothing, secure harness while climbing tree stand and always wear it in the tree, poke dead looking deer before handling them, don't assume a fence isn't electrified, don't run out of water or let a party member do the same, don't mix medications, be on the lookout for human predators - rapists and muggers know remote areas are ideal for committing crimes. That's about it

 

[AvidIndoorsman]

Way too many close calls and I've made enough stupid decisions to end up dead 30 times over. Am much more cautious now that I have a family. A sample of hard lessons: don't tightrope wet logs across whitewater streams, check weather before picking how warm of a sleeping bag, bring hand spikes when walking on questionable ice, let someone else be the first to drive their truck on the frozen lake, no round in the chamber when crossing obstacles, pass on shots just below skyline, always hang bear pack (1 bear fight in a lifetime is 1 too many), when your hair stands on end you've seriously misjudged lighting strike risk, drive slow when foggy to avoid deer collisions, don't assume other hunters are wearing required orange clothing, secure harness while climbing tree stand and always wear it in the tree, poke dead looking deer before handling them, don't assume a fence isn't electrified, don't run out of water or let a party member do the same, don't mix medications, be on the lookout for human predators - rapists and muggers know remote areas are ideal for committing crimes. That's about it

Been there...

also just because it's snowing doesn't mean there won't be lightening, check that a gun is unload even though your dad said he already checked.