<P>100% of author royalties are being donated to the Tunnel to Towers Foundation</P><P>Helicopters loom large in how we picture the Vietnam War. Kilgore&rsquo;s birds coming in hot (and Wagnerian) out of the rising sun in <I>Apocalypse Now</I>. The infantry/helicopter assault at Ia Drang in the climax of <I>We Were Soldiers</I>. A chopper flying over green rice paddies with a teenaged door gunner manning a .50-cal. A slick dropping into an LZ whirling with purple smoke. We can only imagine it. Tom Feigel lived it as a twenty-year-old crew chief in a Huey. <I>Super Slick</I> is the story of his year in Vietnam. </P><P>Tom Feigel grew up a typical post-World War II kid who wrestled in high school had a steady girl and loved working on cars&mdash;and then everything changed. Less than a year out of high school he was drafted into the army and assigned to aviation ultimately to helicopters. In Vietnam in 1970 he first worked as a &ldquo;hangar rat&rdquo; part of the ground crew responsible for maintaining the company&#39;s thirty Hueys&mdash;the Warriors and Thunderbirds&mdash;of the 336th Assault Helicopter Company which operated in southern South Vietnam in the Mekong Delta and U Minh Forest. In short order Feigel volunteered for a flight mission to replace the rotors of a damaged chopper&mdash;which led to his becoming a crew chief on a transport slick called <I>Warrior 21</I>. Before long he and <I>21&#39;s </I>crew asked the company commander for permission to re-outfit their ship for thicker more dangerous missions&mdash;and they ended up flying an up-gunned helicopter call sign <I>Super Slick</I> tasked with similar missions but into more dangerous zones.</P><P>Feigel&rsquo;s memoir recounts the thick and thin of helicopter combat in Vietnam. Heart-pumping missions into hot landing zones (sometimes inserting and extracting Navy SEALs). Adrenaline-fueled flights into enemy-infested jungles and free-fire zones. Low-level reconnaissance. &ldquo;Hash and trash&rdquo; runs to deliver supplies to far-flung units. Terrifying nighttime operations where trees posed nearly as much danger as the enemy. Razor-thin margins between life and death. It was dangerous; it was thrilling. The crews loved it; the crews hated it. They were proud of it. And they never wanted to do it again. <I>Super Slick</I> is as close as you can get to being inside a Huey&mdash;to hearing the radio chatter feeling the thrum of the rotors the pounding of the door guns.</P>
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