Shot down and surrounded

Downed pilots endure 30 minutes of intensity
By Sgt. 1st Class Thomas Mills, 3CAB PAO
Jul 5, 2007 - 2:15:31 PM

Blackanthem Military News, BAGHDAD, Iraq – What started as a routine reconnaissance mission for two Troop C, 3rd Squadron, 17th Cavalry, pilots suddenly became 30 minutes of intense action as the pilots found themselves shot down, surrounded by enemy fighters, then finally rescued.

Chief Warrant Officers Mark Burrows and Steven Cianfrini had just finished spotting a suspected roadside improvised explosive device for an infantry unit south of Baghdad and had begun to recon other routes for the troops on the ground.

“We were out doing a standard recon,” said Cianfrini.  “The situation was normal.”

Cianfrini was running mission systems for the scout helicopter while Burrows was on the flight controls.

When Cianfrini saw tracer rounds arching up toward them he shouted to Burrows to turn away.

“We started taking fire from behind the aircraft,” said Cianfrini.  “I saw the tracer rounds come up through the rotors and at that point we tried to get out of range, check our instruments, make sure our systems were good and that nobody was hit.”

The firing stopped and the two decided to return to base, even though everything checked out okay.

“It was silent for about 30 seconds and I looked out the left door and saw and heard a heavy machine gun open up on us,” said Cianfrini.  “The aircraft took substantial hits along my side of the aircraft.”

That second volley was more intense, said Burrows, and came from multiple positions.

“I believe we were being shot at from all sides,” said Cianfrini.

There was no time to use the helicopter’s weapons systems to fire back, said Burrows.  They could only dodge and weave and try to get away from the enemy.

“The large caliber munitions started hitting the aircraft, feeling like sledgehammers hitting it,” said Burrows.  “The aircraft took quite a bit of damage and I was very surprised that it kept flying for as long as it did.”

The instrument panel was lit up with warning lights, emergency alarms were sounding in their ears, said Burrows.  Then the instrument panel exploded, said Cianfrini.

“One second it was there and then the next it was a mess of wires,” he said.

Being hit by a combination of large and small caliber weapons for an extended period of time had proved too much for the Kiowa. 

“From the time the second engagement started to when we hit the ground we were taking fire the whole time,” said Burrows.

Burrows made the decision to try a controlled landing in a field as he weaved back and forth in the shaking aircraft, trying to avoid the intense fire.  The main rotor had been hit, he figured, and the helicopter was trying to shake itself to death.  As he slowed, though, the aircraft began to try to spin on its axis, a sign that the tail rotor had been rendered useless.

Burrows brought the aircraft down hard and it bounced over a canal, landing on its left side near a road.

With only bruises and scratches, the two pilots scrambled out of the aircraft and met at the nose.  After assessing the situation, they discovered that Cianfrini’s M4 rifle had been ejected from the aircraft during the crash.  At the same time they started to receive fire from the other side of the aircraft.

Burrows and Cianfrini decided then to escape across the canal, away from the enemy fighters.  The canal’s thick growth of reeds afforded camouflage for the pilots and seemed like the best route to get away from the insurgents firing on them.

“When we got into it we realized the water was up to our necks and we were in knee deep mud,” said Burrows.  “We physically couldn’t move from the center of the canal.”

As luck would have it being stuck in the canal was a good thing.  A group of insurgents was approaching the other side of the canal and the two pilots would have run right into their arms, Burrows said.

Soon insurgents were gathered on both banks of the canal and they began shooting blindly into the reeds with their assault rifles, trying to hit the pilots they couldn’t see.

“They were within 15 to 20 feet of us on either side of the canal,” said Cianfrini.

All the two pilots could do, said Burrows, was wait for what seemed to be the inevitable.  Bullets clipped the reeds around them, hitting the water they were standing in, but not them.

“They just didn’t see us,” said Burrows.  “I had one of the attackers in my sights but I knew if I’d shot him they would have known where we were.”

A truck pulled up with a heavy machine gun and it began to fire into the reeds.  Again, though the rounds came close none hit the pilots as they hunkered down in the water.

Burrows said the insurgents began moving down the canal, firing into the water, but soon they loaded up into vehicles and left.

“When they started leaving, walking away, I felt amazement that we were still there,” said Burrows.

Burrows used his radio to send out a distress signal and Army helicopters and Air Force jets began to arrive on scene.  The Kiowa Warrior that had been flying with them had been hit as well and had retreated to a safe distance at the start of the shooting where it had called in reinforcements over the radio.

“Aircraft started arriving on scene and they were circling over head so we assumed it must be safe,” Burrows said.  The two decided not to fire a flare, though Burrows had one ready, just in case the enemy fighters were nearby.  He climbed out of the canal, leaving Cianfrini in hiding with the radios, and waved down a Kiowa helicopter.

A pair of Apaches from the 1st Cavalry Division from Fort Hood, Texas, had responded to the “Fallen Angel” call and was circling nearby.  One of the Apaches, piloted by Chief Warrant Officers Allan Davison and Micah Johnson, landed nearby.  Johnson, the front seat pilot, jumped out to check Burrows and Cianfrini for injuries.

Because of the possible danger of enemy fighters returning the pilots decided to extract Burrows and Cianfrini immediately instead of waiting for further assistance so they performed what is commonly called a “spur ride.”  The spur ride is an unconventional means of extraction in which the pilots clip themselves onto the outside of the aircraft using their built in safety harness and d-rings, said Burrows.

Cianfrini was placed in the front seat of the Apache, and then Johnson strapped himself onto the outside of the Apache on the right, while Burrows strapped himself onto the outside of the Apache on the left.

Once they gave the thumbs up to Davison who was at the controls of the Apache, said Burrows, they took off and flew the ten minutes back to Baghdad International Airport where 3/17 Cav. is based.

“It wasn’t the most comfortable flight but I was elated to be out of there,” said Burrows.  “(The Apache) was going 120 mph so you can imagine the wind was pretty strong.  I had no hearing protection and I couldn’t open my eyes so I just held on and rode it out and was just glad to be out of there.”

An Air Force Thunderbolt II destroyed the downed helicopter with two 500-pound laser-guided bombs some time after the extraction.

Both pilots say they can’t believe they went through what they did with nothing more than scratches and bruises.  From the moment their aircraft hit the ground to when they started the flight back to base was a span of nearly 30 minutes, said Burrows.  At the time, he said, they didn’t really think too much about how lucky, or unlucky, they were to survive that half hour.

“It happened so fast I don’t think we really thought about much except just trying to stay alive,” said Cianfrini.

The whole time all they could do was hope that they made it out alive, Burrows said.

“I knew we would be rescued but I can’t believe that through all this series of events we made it through (without serious injury),” said Burrows.  “That’s the kind of unbelievable part.”

The 3-17th Cav., part of the 10th Mountain Division from Fort Drum, N.Y., is attached to 3rd Combat Aviation Brigade from Fort Stewart, Ga.