by: Author Unknown,
This is not a story. These are lists of thoughts that we remember. The thoughts that show up in our dreams. The thoughts that made us laugh. The thoughts that make us cry. The thoughts that generate flashbacks. The thoughts about our friends from so many years ago. To a Vietnam Veteran, these mind pictures need no explaination.
The sound of main rotor blades beating the sky into submission
The thump of out going mortar fire
The whistle, thump of incoming mortar fire
The smell of rice patties in the heat
The feel of rain so heavy you think you're going to drown.
The taste of ice cold "33"
Or luke-warm "33"
Heating C-Rations with C-4
The ever-present smell of hot JP-4
The scream of 30 turbo-shaft engines under load
The beautiful dark green of the mountains
The smell of burning diesel fuel and shit
Flying lazy circles at 10,000 ft to cool off the beer
The sight of unfamiliar constellations viewed from the top of a sandbagged bunker on a pitch-black night
The chatter of an M-60
The smell of hot gun oil, burning gun powder and overheated metal
The sight of green tracers reaching up
The feeling in the pit of your stomach when you look around and realize that all the civilian workers have disappeared into the bunkers for no apparent reason
R & R in Vung Tao
R & R any place
The whistle a main rotor blade makes when it has a bullet hole through it
The call of a "fuckyou" lizard in the middle of the night
The breath taking beauty of the country from 5000 ft.
Waking up in a panic in the middle of the night because the Artillery at the end of the field isn't firing and it's to quiet.
The scream of the scramble siren in the middle of the night
The feel of your M-14 on full automatic
Drinking Jim Beam straight up and chasing it with warm black cherry soda because that's all you've got
A kidney busting full throttle run down thunder road in a sandbagged duce and a half
The feeling when fewer ships come home than left that morning
The mind numbing sight and sound when Puff lights up the night and saves your sorry ass
The absolute silence when Puff is done
Mike Rollins
Flying over the mountains and seeing a high valley still covered in the early morning fog. And the fog spilling out of a high pass, like cream out of a cup.
High "pucker facter" while hovering up a road into 200&1/4 rain and fog Over the high plateau during the monsoon, cruising along a road in 200 & 1/4 (or less maybe?) and having to pull collective to miss a deuce truck coming at you and going IFR. Never forget the look on that driver's face when we came face to face" for an instant.
Foggy days at Bao Loc. Lining up, one by one, between the revetments and taking off into the fog at 30 sec intervals. Breaking out at 4000 msl, PZ was at 5000 msl and the LZ was still higher.
Skiba
Sliding down to the ridge lines in my Loach and pretending to do a recon while riding the updrafts like I was in a sail plane as the fog starts burning off. In my mind sailing a small "cat" in Cape Cod bay.
Cloud skiing :-)) Get to the top of a puffy cumulus over the coast during the rainy season. Get right on top and dump collective. Try to keep just the skids in the cloud while following the contours.
Cool night air at one mile high and one mile out over the coast.
High "pucker facter" while hovering up a road into rain and fog.
The smell of human blood.
What a hard sideways flare feels like when started at 120 kts and 30 feet AGL.
Jerry Ewen
Sitting on the ground, looking up at a clear blue sky through whispers of ground fog; then flying over that same fog bank towards Dak To, finding only one FSB poking up through the fog. Then sitting on that FSB,
drinking varnish removing coffee made in an aluminum pot over a Mo-gas powered squad stove, waiting for the fog to lift.
Westbrook
Running thru the rounds to get the team airborne when it was your turn on counter-mortar standby.
Doc Dougherty
You notice how small trees look when you had a blade strike at 2000 feet.
You notice how many lights are not lit up on a master control panel.
The beautiful curving red lines of tracers at midnight.
The rice in the rocket pods.
The blood on the windshield.
The basketball size green tracers going upward in slow motion at midnight looking for you.
The eerie light of a parachute flare.
The true beauty of a mini-gun when you are down in the rice.and your wing ship is above covering your sorry ass.
The sight of Nui Ba Den as dawn breaks the horizon.
The mosquitoes that carry harpoons
The sting of a rocket cap hitting your shins.
The taste of crushed cookies.
Pinto Beans cooked on a popcorn popper.
Measuring the grease in C-rat beef stew.
Finding a use for powdered eggs.
Watching momma son pop the heads off those big roaches in the mess hall and eat them.
The whistle of a 122mm rocket inbound...right in the middle of "The Good The Bad The Ugly"
Taking a shower at the edge of the roof during monsoon season.
Missing the submerged boardwalk during the monsoon on the way to the club and find the 6' deep green ditch instead.
Naming all the rats.
Roach races as a sporting event.
Playing Lambretta chicken on Hwy 1
Scrounging missions just for the hell of it.
The white cranes that are bullet proof
The humidity in August.
Finding the true meaning of rocket city first hand.
Rockets in the Mess hall....With me in it
Plugging hydraulic leaks with bubble gum just to get home
The smell of Napalm.
The smell of rocket fuel
The smell of burnt JP-4
The smell of a drunk Bear
The cherry glow of a red hot M-60 barrel.
The pop of a .51 as it flys by to close
The nurses at the Medi-vac pad.
The connex box of the dead
The incessant dust of Cu Chi
The sucking mud
Honolulu looks clean enough to eat off the street from the air.
The ring of the telephone that sends you to action station.
The ring of the phone at 2 am in Hawaii that almost sent you off the 17th floor balcony.
The backfire of a car..the embarrassment..of being face down in a ditch.
The joy of DEROS Day
The loneliness the days after Travis..and ETS
The confusion that followed
Ron Leonard
Wondering why the grunts dont shoot your hook after it blows the air mattress out of their poncho tent and onto the concertina wire at LZ Leslie
Watching the rotor wash of your hook dismantle a hooch and not even care
watching the water buffalo drag the farmer and plow across several dikes cause the boo doesn't like hooks
St Elmo's fire on the rotor blades
Wondering why the marines at Phu Bai don't have counter mortar anything
Listening to 2/20 ARA birds salvo doing counter mortar in Cav controlled area (THANKS!)
Swimming with sea snakes at Wonder beach
Watching how high a blivet can bounce when punched off (50 feet)
Being damn glad to be in Hooks when the last flight of the day you sling back a dead Huey and you can see the pilots helmet rolling around in there. He wouldn't have left it if he were okay............
Wade Kane, Hook Crewchief
The sound of armed forces Radio at 0600...Goooooood Morining Viet Naaaaaammm!
The click as a round went past...
The sounds of the "Mama's and the Papa's" Monday Monday...and you start another day, another one down and ??? to go...
The quite voice of the FDC..."One on the way, wait...." and you wait for the bright flash of the parachute flare to see if you can see Charlie...and you can't.
The voice from the GCA controller, Hey are you hovering up there???
The whispers of the FO..."The Fuckers are close, be careful"...
Ya OK down there?...chick, chick....sigh of relief
The crew chief..."I think we took some on that last pass!"
Jerry Barnes
Baron 67
The taste of a grimy tear in the hollow darkness.
Greg Bucy 25th Avn
THE BEAUTIFUL SOUNDS OF THOSE ROTOR BLADES AS THE "BIRDS" CAME TO TAKE YOU OUT OF PLACES TOO BAD TO REMEMBER!
Andrew Alday 3/22 Infantry
The joy of finding that the spice in the noodles are tiny insects.
Hitting the sack after a 14-hour day, waking up to CS two hours later from those 116th SOB's.
Flying in the middle of nowhere during a rainstorm and having the caution panel light up like a Christmas tree.
Seeing your friend passed out in the "green ditch" and thanking God it's him and not you.
Wondering why a baby's rattle is on a battle field. (VC grenade)
Why is everyone hiding on the ground?
Hearing "Radar service terminated" while night IFR on the downwind into TayNinh and the beacons OTS.
Analyzing the proximity of the AK-47 firing while in the club at Dao Chang.
Your last flight from Chu Chi.
Your first flight into Chu Chi.
Being a FNG
Picking up the FNG at hotel 6.
A box of cookies from home.
Running to a magnesium 229 gal. JP-4 container, in the middle of an open field while incoming falls all around you, then trying to start it.
Saying goodbye to mom and dad at the airport leaving for RVN.
Saying "I love you" to your wife as you depart for RVN.
Saying a last goodbye to a friend as he boards the freedom bird.
Saying The Last Goodbye to a friend at the base chapel.
Saying goodbye to all your friends as you board the freedom bird.
Saying nothing but a big hug and then, "I love you" to your wife at Travis upon returning.
Saying "it's great to see you" to your mom and dad at Travis.
Saying "I miss you" at The Wall in DC.
Saying "Freedom isn't free" to your kids.
Ed Mitchell-25th avn
Sitting on a hot refuel pad in the middle of monsoon at night waiting for the rain to let up so you could return to station or back to the flight line. With no doors.
Pulling bunker guard with your poncho liner over your head, and the mosquitoes sounding like Fox 4s over your head.
Coming in on a late night flight and the cooks ( Bless them! ) they always had something for you to eat! Our cooks were the best!
Yeah, its all coming back now, But they are good memories considering all that went on. You see, I've learned that with all the bad we went through...There were the good times too.
A oriental band at the club trying to sing " If your going to San Fransico" Hey? What a trip! Or playing Wipe out.
How about pulling a late night intermediate on your bird, and while getting oil samples, you look out over the wires and see our brothers working out with Sixties and mini guns a blazing? Then try finding a pilot to do a run up. Good luck! Many thanks to Parish for doing that for us.
Richard Muenz A 25th Avn
The pop of the hand held flares as they lightened the darkness of the midnight sky.
The carefully placed footstep of the one that went before you in the rice fields.
The fear of letting your brothers down as the radio message of a sit rep awakens you and your glad to be alive and now one noticed that you fell asleep on third watch. As the sun rises and it is the end of the A/P.
The deafening ringing in the ears of the APC Driver as he drives and the 50cal mussel blast is 11 inches over your head. Trying to hear the commands of your squad leaders orders in the head set.
The thought of the hot beer as you see the the slings dangling from the underside of the chopper
The cloud of smoke streaming from the rocket pods of those fire breathing Gun Ships as they streak over the top of us, terring the hell out of the rubber trees.
The visions of the carnage that such a air assault left behind. Thinking how glad that Sir Charlie that got his.
The feelling that GOD has been there as you were loaded in the Dust Off on you way to the 25med back in Cu Chi.
This is my way of letting all you Sky Warriors know. Thanks we depended on you more than you will ever know.
Mike Wager 4/23 Armor
Saying "I love you" to your wife as you depart for RVN. That one was a trip. Leaving for second tour with her standing there, eight months pregnant with our "first." She's trying to be brave, with trembling chin and I'm trying not to look like the "rat" I am for leaving her at a time like that. She's a keeper ... eight kids and going on 33 years.
Ed Gallagher
Listening in the morning for the original "Gooood Mornin Viet Naaam" Original now, not the wimpassed stuff later after he had rotated and gotten out. Somebody will remember his name.
Making a fresh pot of coffee at 5000' while going around in lazy circles over the Crows Foot area waiting for ground fog to burn off. Gunner Bill watching all the time, staying alert, looking over his M60, "just in case a
hole was to open up". I almost spilled the fresh made coffee LMAO.
Sling breaking, with large load of Arty rounds some armed or whatever it is they do with 105 Arty rounds when they need them in a hurry(hey, I used to be in the Air Defense Artillery and later self propelled stuff)Rounds impact partially in river partially next to village and some do blow. Save the dounut. THEY will not believe sling broke. Later, THEY inform us that there is residue on the sling where it broke and THEY think a lucky round caught the sling, cutting it. Whatever! Woke us all up with a big bang and several unplanned feet of altitude and do not want to do R&R in that village!
Night Arty resupply mission to Crows Foot area. Green balls coming up off the hills along Hwy one north of old Phu Cat before it was an AF base. Guys up front "Think they can see us up here?" Ship in trail, "Panther 140 if you shut off your rotating becons they probably would stop shooting at you." "Oh shit!" Bill Corbin our gunner opening up and them pretty red dots raining all down and around where the green dots were coming from. Green dots stop coming up. Guys up front felt a bit leftout of the loop since Bill hadn't asked their permission to return fire. Yeah, we had rules back in 66! Bills comment was something to the affect, "Bet they don't shot at anyone else tonight." Later that night I got hungrey thinking about green balls of fire.
Cooking some ham and limas on the one burner cookstove at a couple of thousand at night in the backend of the fat lady and the guys up front wondering "Chief, is there a fire back there?" in their whining voices,
afraid of what they might hear in return. "No, I am cooking some ham and limas on the one burner stove" Real quiet for a long time after that. Of course the big yellow flame lowered to a warm and toasty blue cooking flame soon. They never thought I was quite right after that. Smoking in flight was ok but starting a fire was something else to them.
Dragging the first piggy back load down the middle of an Arty base cause they had not told us something was hooked to the gun. People running for their lives down there. Fat Lady not doing so well handling that little old 105! And why is it hanging way back behind the hole? Then they get on the radio and tell us we are dragging the ammo net behind us. Whoa lady!
Bouncing a piggy back load off the edge of a bluff and hoping that the fat lady will recover RPMs and fly. She is still flying.
First night artillery lift and it is with piggy back loads. Approach LZ Foot or Italy to a black hat with a flashlight and feel things kind of tugging at the Fat Lady. Turn on flashlight and shine on the load and we
are dragging the ammo sling thru the tree tops. Wonder out loud if the stuff is armed.
Punching off two blivets because that damned #2 engine was doing compressor stalls again on approach and "the rpms are drooping and heat is going up and we are shutting 2 down." "Probably should release the...." Bam, I ain't waiting on you guys to debate the situation! All them Huey people running for cover on their piece of the Turkey Farm as the two blivets bounce towards the mess tent. Looked like Artillery guys running! A feeling of relief when blivets stop bouncing and come to rest on either corner of the mess tent without flattening it. "Oh you guys should have seen that shit!" Stopped eating breakfast with the Huey guys and stuck to our own piece of the Turkey Farm.
Damned #2 engine again, doing its galloping .50 cal thing just as we cross over the river on the left side where we ain't supposed to be. Did not pull the d ring that time. Let the guys in front go to jail. Fat lady held
together and we come back across the river still burping but on the good side of the river now.
Low leveling over the S. China Sea, south of Quin Nhon, glassy water, no wind, 130 knots, almost washing the wheels off, playing chicken with a inbound destroyer escort. I swear his mast leaned before we turned away! No shit!
Starting that damned #2 engine by winding her up with fuel and when evidence of fuel came out the back yell "ignition" into the mike and watch that big assed flame come whooshing out the back end.
Setting down in that small clearing in the middle of the bamboo thicket that looked big enough to get them guys out until the tops all leaned in and all we could do was come up out of it. What a mess, water and green stuff all over the place. Later...long dents in the bottoms of all the blades. Keep the blades, how are we going to get rid of that damned #2 engine.
Listening as the #2 engine transmission chewed up and swallowed the sprag clutch as we were flaring on a Arty resupply of 105 stuff slung under us.
Finally getting rid of #2 engine for one that started normal and did not go into hiccups at the worst of times.
Not having to blow up air mattress to sleep on when out with the fat lady. Could sleep 6 in comfort on the seats with the skeeter netting all tied up nice and neat. Then there was the fresh coffee!
Larry cranking the APU to charge up the little battery cause the lights were dimming while the die-hard cribbage fans played up front. Of course that happened just as you were about to drop off to sleep.
Sling breaking...dropping about 15 fuel blivets into the Cheo Reo River. Shucks, missed the sampan by several feet. Quick...save the do nut cause they will never believe the sling broke...THEY never do.
Hot resupply mission for Artillery guys. Pilots a bit under the weather. Been to the occifers club you know! Off we go towards Cheo Reo and along the way call for Arty Advisory and told there is negative Arty. Yeah,
sure, how come stuff is impacting in front of us. Go for altitude. We are first ship in, no lights cause of the bad guys around. Drop off ammo on the portable landing lights and 180 and we are out of there. Standing in the door and notice this big assed black shape go by heading the opposite direction. Tell guys up front. They call second ship and he says he is just approaching the LZ. Why are suddenly all sweating a bunch. Later we all smile and laugh about it over a beer.
Flare ship dropping flares out in the Crows Foot and the metal casing comes crashing down thru one of the aft blades on the ship next to us. Foot had seen that before at base camp and was hiding under his aft transmission next door telling all the guys to get some cover cause when that flare popped the can comes loose and it could kill you.
Oh you guys, get my mind to wandering over the good times or at least some of those we laughed about afterwards. I will try not to remember the other times that weren't so good. At least I will try not to remember.
Chris the Bigfoot
Busting rocket boxes and linking ammo
The metallic zip of a rocket being slid down the tube, and the click-snap as it locked in place
Free-for-all to see who got the pound cake and peaches
Watching the slicks go "covey" when a cold LZ suddenly went hot
Night missions- keeping one eye out for flare chutes
The absolute blackness after passing Phouc Vinh headed for Song Be
Warm French bread wrapped in newspaper and washed down with 33
Round wicker baskets full of chickens and ducks
Hauling marmite cans stacked to the ceiling, full of hot chow...while you ate C's
Arc lights
Cold showers from drop tanks that held the faint remnants of JP-4
Rats! BIG Rats.
Slogging thru knee deep runoff to get that shower
Watching for the team to get back on your day off
Getting dressed to go to bed
Ah yes...A CCN "Prairie Fire" some place west of the Ah Shau (where nobody ever went) in '71. It was dusk over the PZ and the ropes were coming straight up with little people hanging from them. Then the blade tips at 10 O'clock from a Snake giving cover. Oh yes, and the rubber knees that made those darn pedals turn mushy. What a rush. Couldn't see shit. Lots of noise and flashes from all directions. A near midair. Nothing like a low intensity twilight to carry through life.
Sprunger
The distinctive sound that rounds make as they "slap" into the sheet metal of the aircraft;
Sitting in the gunner's well while traveling 100 knots a. soaking wet and freezing b. with one's feet propped up on the ammo can enjoying a sunrise or sunset; being saturated with Agent orange and being told that this stuff won't hurt you; getting blood sprayed all over you and realizing it's not yours;
Cleaning up the aircraft after hauling KIAs or removing the remains of a fellow crewman and all evidence of his demise;
The smell of blood and zinc chromate paint;
Trying to replace an engine oil filter at 10 pm with your Zippo lighter after you have been flying since the crack of dawn;
The blessed feeling of being able to take any kind of shower after a long hot dirty day;
Heating C rations in the exhaust of the engine;
Mud, mildew and rot during monsoon season;
Dust sweat and jock itch during the dry season;
The empty feel of being left behind as you watch your unit fly off into a day of CAs when your bird is "down" for maintenance;
Flying into a hot area just ahead of a CA as you lay down a smoke screen...realizing that every gun is shooting at you;
Cooking a pizza at midnight in the mess hall with the night baker;
Fishing with hand grenades;
Eating fresh fish and being careful not to bite down too hard for fear of finding grenade remnants in your meal;
The smell of wood smoke in your clothing when the Vietnamese laundry has to dry your uniforms over an open fire during monsoon season;
Sneezing... and nearly losing your false teeth at 200 feet;
Trying to take a leak out the door at 200 feet;
Flying over the nurse's quarters at Cu Chi and hoping for a "cheap thrill";
Cooking Jiffy Pop on a Sterno stove;
Beer on your corn flakes.... beer and cookies.... brushing your teeth with beer... soaking your dentures in beer... warm beer.... cold beer... beer
Packages and letters from home;
Working in the "hell hole" of a UH-1 when the temperature is 120 degrees;
The Bob Hope Show!
Donut Dollies!
Party time!
Catch 22!
Tri Borders (Laos, DMZ and Vietnam)
FOB (Flight over the Border)
Frank Tijano-SOG
Standing on the helipad on Nui Ba Dinh enjoying the cool brisk breeze wash over you.
Balancing the stench of the "green ditch" vs. the value of the shower shoe you just lost in it.
Playing a weightless astronaut at the top of a cyclic climb.
The empty pit of the stomach feeling you get looking up through the greenhouse at the hole in the tree canopy, a hundred or so feet up, you just hovered down from
The excitement of stumbling across extension cords and light bulbs while scrounging.
Larry Carter-25th Avn
Not yet dawn, preflight done, walk to tail boom and fling blade strap from stinger. Remove blade hook and blade slowly inches it's way upward. Doors open awaiting arrival of pilots, sure hope we don't get????? For a Peter Pilot today. Gunner mounts 60's and ammo cans securely to gun posts. Pilots arrive, explains the days mission, which of course you already knew from talking to OPS specialist and who also switched the PP that you didn't want in the first place. AC and PP go through start-up, adjust radio freq. and then yells "clear' and igniters pop into action. Turbine slowly gains momentum and the bird begins to rock back and forth coming to life. You suit up, first the 'chicken plate' then the gloves. You swing yourself onto your
armor plated nylon seat, grab your helmet, plug in the mike cord and adjust the mike until it just makes contact with your lip. It was such a rush just getting suited up, you felt almost invincible, almost. AC checks to see if you and the gunner are ready, double click the mike is your reply and he gets clearance for liftoff. Blades turning ever faster, skids get light, a slight rock to the left then the right, then forward motion begins. Clear left, clear right, tail clear, a little transitional shudder, you're past the perimeter pull your 60 from it's clamp on the post and we're up. The day begins like almost every other day, but what will it hold. You fill in the'rest of the story'.
It was only yesterday, wasn't it? We ALL share the same emotion to this part of our lives. Thanks for providing this network of brother and sister hood that allows us to share those moments. IT REALLY MEANS SOMETHING!
A Rhoades, SP5, CE, C/229th AHB, 1st CAV, 6801-6902
Flying past the Batangan Peninsula late at night with no ground lights and no stars my first week in-country ( and first night mission) on the way to a Med-Evac pickup near Mai Lai. Seeing that little flash out of the corner of my eye every minute or so and finally startled when the Master Caution Light started to blink too.
I look closely at the instrument panel and the transmission indicators are almost inverted. Pressure going down. Master Caution light turns on solid.
AC (Aircraft Commander) apparently peeing his pants and no help, as he probably is thinking we are dead and what will happen to our main blade when the transmission freezes up, or when we set down and the bad guys come avisiting.
Dropping stupidly down below 500 feet because it feels safer.
I maintain control of the bird and fly to Quang Ngai MACV compound, all the while waiting for the transmission to freeze.
Landing in absolute blackness and having to use the main landing light to find the compound.
The feeling that I have used up one of my nine lives on shutdown when we check the transmission reservoir and find it empty. The knowledge that I was alive only because I was too stupid to give up, and had so very much to learn.
Finally, thanking God for the Training acquired at Fort Wolters and Fort Rucker, that made me keep control of the bird, rather then executing a forced night landing in Indian Country.
Wondering today where the Crew Chief and Gunner from that mission are...
Michael McCormick
Pelican 223
The sound of main rotor blades beating the sky into submission
The thump of out going mortar fire
The whistle, thump of incoming mortar fire
The smell of rice patties in the heat
The feel of rain so heavy you think you're going to drown.
The taste of ice cold "33"
Or luke-warm "33"
Heating C-Rations with C-4
The ever-present smell of hot JP-4
The scream of 30 turbo-shaft engines under load
The beautiful dark green of the mountains
The smell of burning diesel fuel and shit
Flying lazy circles at 10,000 ft to cool off the beer
The sight of unfamiliar constellations viewed from the top of a sandbagged bunker on a pitch-black night
The chatter of an M-60
The smell of hot gun oil, burning gun powder and overheated metal
The sight of green tracers reaching up
The feeling in the pit of your stomach when you look around and realize that all the civilian workers have disappeared into the bunkers for no apparent reason
R & R in Vung Tao
R & R any place
The whistle a main rotor blade makes when it has a bullet hole through it
The call of a "fuckyou" lizard in the middle of the night
The breath taking beauty of the country from 5000 ft.
Waking up in a panic in the middle of the night because the Artillery at the end of the field isn't firing and it's to quiet.
The scream of the scramble siren in the middle of the night
The feel of your M-14 on full automatic
Drinking Jim Beam straight up and chasing it with warm black cherry soda because that's all you've got
A kidney busting full throttle run down thunder road in a sandbagged duce and a half
The feeling when fewer ships come home than left that morning
The mind numbing sight and sound when Puff lights up the night and saves your sorry ass
The absolute silence when Puff is done
Mike Rollins
Flying over the mountains and seeing a high valley still covered in the early morning fog. And the fog spilling out of a high pass, like cream out of a cup.
High "pucker facter" while hovering up a road into 200&1/4 rain and fog Over the high plateau during the monsoon, cruising along a road in 200 & 1/4 (or less maybe?) and having to pull collective to miss a deuce truck coming at you and going IFR. Never forget the look on that driver's face when we came face to face" for an instant.
Foggy days at Bao Loc. Lining up, one by one, between the revetments and taking off into the fog at 30 sec intervals. Breaking out at 4000 msl, PZ was at 5000 msl and the LZ was still higher.
Skiba
Sliding down to the ridge lines in my Loach and pretending to do a recon while riding the updrafts like I was in a sail plane as the fog starts burning off. In my mind sailing a small "cat" in Cape Cod bay.
Cloud skiing :-)) Get to the top of a puffy cumulus over the coast during the rainy season. Get right on top and dump collective. Try to keep just the skids in the cloud while following the contours.
Cool night air at one mile high and one mile out over the coast.
High "pucker facter" while hovering up a road into rain and fog.
The smell of human blood.
What a hard sideways flare feels like when started at 120 kts and 30 feet AGL.
Jerry Ewen
Sitting on the ground, looking up at a clear blue sky through whispers of ground fog; then flying over that same fog bank towards Dak To, finding only one FSB poking up through the fog. Then sitting on that FSB,
drinking varnish removing coffee made in an aluminum pot over a Mo-gas powered squad stove, waiting for the fog to lift.
Westbrook
Running thru the rounds to get the team airborne when it was your turn on counter-mortar standby.
Doc Dougherty
You notice how small trees look when you had a blade strike at 2000 feet.
You notice how many lights are not lit up on a master control panel.
The beautiful curving red lines of tracers at midnight.
The rice in the rocket pods.
The blood on the windshield.
The basketball size green tracers going upward in slow motion at midnight looking for you.
The eerie light of a parachute flare.
The true beauty of a mini-gun when you are down in the rice.and your wing ship is above covering your sorry ass.
The sight of Nui Ba Den as dawn breaks the horizon.
The mosquitoes that carry harpoons
The sting of a rocket cap hitting your shins.
The taste of crushed cookies.
Pinto Beans cooked on a popcorn popper.
Measuring the grease in C-rat beef stew.
Finding a use for powdered eggs.
Watching momma son pop the heads off those big roaches in the mess hall and eat them.
The whistle of a 122mm rocket inbound...right in the middle of "The Good The Bad The Ugly"
Taking a shower at the edge of the roof during monsoon season.
Missing the submerged boardwalk during the monsoon on the way to the club and find the 6' deep green ditch instead.
Naming all the rats.
Roach races as a sporting event.
Playing Lambretta chicken on Hwy 1
Scrounging missions just for the hell of it.
The white cranes that are bullet proof
The humidity in August.
Finding the true meaning of rocket city first hand.
Rockets in the Mess hall....With me in it
Plugging hydraulic leaks with bubble gum just to get home
The smell of Napalm.
The smell of rocket fuel
The smell of burnt JP-4
The smell of a drunk Bear
The cherry glow of a red hot M-60 barrel.
The pop of a .51 as it flys by to close
The nurses at the Medi-vac pad.
The connex box of the dead
The incessant dust of Cu Chi
The sucking mud
Honolulu looks clean enough to eat off the street from the air.
The ring of the telephone that sends you to action station.
The ring of the phone at 2 am in Hawaii that almost sent you off the 17th floor balcony.
The backfire of a car..the embarrassment..of being face down in a ditch.
The joy of DEROS Day
The loneliness the days after Travis..and ETS
The confusion that followed
Ron Leonard
Wondering why the grunts dont shoot your hook after it blows the air mattress out of their poncho tent and onto the concertina wire at LZ Leslie
Watching the rotor wash of your hook dismantle a hooch and not even care
watching the water buffalo drag the farmer and plow across several dikes cause the boo doesn't like hooks
St Elmo's fire on the rotor blades
Wondering why the marines at Phu Bai don't have counter mortar anything
Listening to 2/20 ARA birds salvo doing counter mortar in Cav controlled area (THANKS!)
Swimming with sea snakes at Wonder beach
Watching how high a blivet can bounce when punched off (50 feet)
Being damn glad to be in Hooks when the last flight of the day you sling back a dead Huey and you can see the pilots helmet rolling around in there. He wouldn't have left it if he were okay............
Wade Kane, Hook Crewchief
The sound of armed forces Radio at 0600...Goooooood Morining Viet Naaaaaammm!
The click as a round went past...
The sounds of the "Mama's and the Papa's" Monday Monday...and you start another day, another one down and ??? to go...
The quite voice of the FDC..."One on the way, wait...." and you wait for the bright flash of the parachute flare to see if you can see Charlie...and you can't.
The voice from the GCA controller, Hey are you hovering up there???
The whispers of the FO..."The Fuckers are close, be careful"...
Ya OK down there?...chick, chick....sigh of relief
The crew chief..."I think we took some on that last pass!"
Jerry Barnes
Baron 67
The taste of a grimy tear in the hollow darkness.
Greg Bucy 25th Avn
THE BEAUTIFUL SOUNDS OF THOSE ROTOR BLADES AS THE "BIRDS" CAME TO TAKE YOU OUT OF PLACES TOO BAD TO REMEMBER!
Andrew Alday 3/22 Infantry
The joy of finding that the spice in the noodles are tiny insects.
Hitting the sack after a 14-hour day, waking up to CS two hours later from those 116th SOB's.
Flying in the middle of nowhere during a rainstorm and having the caution panel light up like a Christmas tree.
Seeing your friend passed out in the "green ditch" and thanking God it's him and not you.
Wondering why a baby's rattle is on a battle field. (VC grenade)
Why is everyone hiding on the ground?
Hearing "Radar service terminated" while night IFR on the downwind into TayNinh and the beacons OTS.
Analyzing the proximity of the AK-47 firing while in the club at Dao Chang.
Your last flight from Chu Chi.
Your first flight into Chu Chi.
Being a FNG
Picking up the FNG at hotel 6.
A box of cookies from home.
Running to a magnesium 229 gal. JP-4 container, in the middle of an open field while incoming falls all around you, then trying to start it.
Saying goodbye to mom and dad at the airport leaving for RVN.
Saying "I love you" to your wife as you depart for RVN.
Saying a last goodbye to a friend as he boards the freedom bird.
Saying The Last Goodbye to a friend at the base chapel.
Saying goodbye to all your friends as you board the freedom bird.
Saying nothing but a big hug and then, "I love you" to your wife at Travis upon returning.
Saying "it's great to see you" to your mom and dad at Travis.
Saying "I miss you" at The Wall in DC.
Saying "Freedom isn't free" to your kids.
Ed Mitchell-25th avn
Sitting on a hot refuel pad in the middle of monsoon at night waiting for the rain to let up so you could return to station or back to the flight line. With no doors.
Pulling bunker guard with your poncho liner over your head, and the mosquitoes sounding like Fox 4s over your head.
Coming in on a late night flight and the cooks ( Bless them! ) they always had something for you to eat! Our cooks were the best!
Yeah, its all coming back now, But they are good memories considering all that went on. You see, I've learned that with all the bad we went through...There were the good times too.
A oriental band at the club trying to sing " If your going to San Fransico" Hey? What a trip! Or playing Wipe out.
How about pulling a late night intermediate on your bird, and while getting oil samples, you look out over the wires and see our brothers working out with Sixties and mini guns a blazing? Then try finding a pilot to do a run up. Good luck! Many thanks to Parish for doing that for us.
Richard Muenz A 25th Avn
The pop of the hand held flares as they lightened the darkness of the midnight sky.
The carefully placed footstep of the one that went before you in the rice fields.
The fear of letting your brothers down as the radio message of a sit rep awakens you and your glad to be alive and now one noticed that you fell asleep on third watch. As the sun rises and it is the end of the A/P.
The deafening ringing in the ears of the APC Driver as he drives and the 50cal mussel blast is 11 inches over your head. Trying to hear the commands of your squad leaders orders in the head set.
The thought of the hot beer as you see the the slings dangling from the underside of the chopper
The cloud of smoke streaming from the rocket pods of those fire breathing Gun Ships as they streak over the top of us, terring the hell out of the rubber trees.
The visions of the carnage that such a air assault left behind. Thinking how glad that Sir Charlie that got his.
The feelling that GOD has been there as you were loaded in the Dust Off on you way to the 25med back in Cu Chi.
This is my way of letting all you Sky Warriors know. Thanks we depended on you more than you will ever know.
Mike Wager 4/23 Armor
Saying "I love you" to your wife as you depart for RVN. That one was a trip. Leaving for second tour with her standing there, eight months pregnant with our "first." She's trying to be brave, with trembling chin and I'm trying not to look like the "rat" I am for leaving her at a time like that. She's a keeper ... eight kids and going on 33 years.
Ed Gallagher
Listening in the morning for the original "Gooood Mornin Viet Naaam" Original now, not the wimpassed stuff later after he had rotated and gotten out. Somebody will remember his name.
Making a fresh pot of coffee at 5000' while going around in lazy circles over the Crows Foot area waiting for ground fog to burn off. Gunner Bill watching all the time, staying alert, looking over his M60, "just in case a
hole was to open up". I almost spilled the fresh made coffee LMAO.
Sling breaking, with large load of Arty rounds some armed or whatever it is they do with 105 Arty rounds when they need them in a hurry(hey, I used to be in the Air Defense Artillery and later self propelled stuff)Rounds impact partially in river partially next to village and some do blow. Save the dounut. THEY will not believe sling broke. Later, THEY inform us that there is residue on the sling where it broke and THEY think a lucky round caught the sling, cutting it. Whatever! Woke us all up with a big bang and several unplanned feet of altitude and do not want to do R&R in that village!
Night Arty resupply mission to Crows Foot area. Green balls coming up off the hills along Hwy one north of old Phu Cat before it was an AF base. Guys up front "Think they can see us up here?" Ship in trail, "Panther 140 if you shut off your rotating becons they probably would stop shooting at you." "Oh shit!" Bill Corbin our gunner opening up and them pretty red dots raining all down and around where the green dots were coming from. Green dots stop coming up. Guys up front felt a bit leftout of the loop since Bill hadn't asked their permission to return fire. Yeah, we had rules back in 66! Bills comment was something to the affect, "Bet they don't shot at anyone else tonight." Later that night I got hungrey thinking about green balls of fire.
Cooking some ham and limas on the one burner cookstove at a couple of thousand at night in the backend of the fat lady and the guys up front wondering "Chief, is there a fire back there?" in their whining voices,
afraid of what they might hear in return. "No, I am cooking some ham and limas on the one burner stove" Real quiet for a long time after that. Of course the big yellow flame lowered to a warm and toasty blue cooking flame soon. They never thought I was quite right after that. Smoking in flight was ok but starting a fire was something else to them.
Dragging the first piggy back load down the middle of an Arty base cause they had not told us something was hooked to the gun. People running for their lives down there. Fat Lady not doing so well handling that little old 105! And why is it hanging way back behind the hole? Then they get on the radio and tell us we are dragging the ammo net behind us. Whoa lady!
Bouncing a piggy back load off the edge of a bluff and hoping that the fat lady will recover RPMs and fly. She is still flying.
First night artillery lift and it is with piggy back loads. Approach LZ Foot or Italy to a black hat with a flashlight and feel things kind of tugging at the Fat Lady. Turn on flashlight and shine on the load and we
are dragging the ammo sling thru the tree tops. Wonder out loud if the stuff is armed.
Punching off two blivets because that damned #2 engine was doing compressor stalls again on approach and "the rpms are drooping and heat is going up and we are shutting 2 down." "Probably should release the...." Bam, I ain't waiting on you guys to debate the situation! All them Huey people running for cover on their piece of the Turkey Farm as the two blivets bounce towards the mess tent. Looked like Artillery guys running! A feeling of relief when blivets stop bouncing and come to rest on either corner of the mess tent without flattening it. "Oh you guys should have seen that shit!" Stopped eating breakfast with the Huey guys and stuck to our own piece of the Turkey Farm.
Damned #2 engine again, doing its galloping .50 cal thing just as we cross over the river on the left side where we ain't supposed to be. Did not pull the d ring that time. Let the guys in front go to jail. Fat lady held
together and we come back across the river still burping but on the good side of the river now.
Low leveling over the S. China Sea, south of Quin Nhon, glassy water, no wind, 130 knots, almost washing the wheels off, playing chicken with a inbound destroyer escort. I swear his mast leaned before we turned away! No shit!
Starting that damned #2 engine by winding her up with fuel and when evidence of fuel came out the back yell "ignition" into the mike and watch that big assed flame come whooshing out the back end.
Setting down in that small clearing in the middle of the bamboo thicket that looked big enough to get them guys out until the tops all leaned in and all we could do was come up out of it. What a mess, water and green stuff all over the place. Later...long dents in the bottoms of all the blades. Keep the blades, how are we going to get rid of that damned #2 engine.
Listening as the #2 engine transmission chewed up and swallowed the sprag clutch as we were flaring on a Arty resupply of 105 stuff slung under us.
Finally getting rid of #2 engine for one that started normal and did not go into hiccups at the worst of times.
Not having to blow up air mattress to sleep on when out with the fat lady. Could sleep 6 in comfort on the seats with the skeeter netting all tied up nice and neat. Then there was the fresh coffee!
Larry cranking the APU to charge up the little battery cause the lights were dimming while the die-hard cribbage fans played up front. Of course that happened just as you were about to drop off to sleep.
Sling breaking...dropping about 15 fuel blivets into the Cheo Reo River. Shucks, missed the sampan by several feet. Quick...save the do nut cause they will never believe the sling broke...THEY never do.
Hot resupply mission for Artillery guys. Pilots a bit under the weather. Been to the occifers club you know! Off we go towards Cheo Reo and along the way call for Arty Advisory and told there is negative Arty. Yeah,
sure, how come stuff is impacting in front of us. Go for altitude. We are first ship in, no lights cause of the bad guys around. Drop off ammo on the portable landing lights and 180 and we are out of there. Standing in the door and notice this big assed black shape go by heading the opposite direction. Tell guys up front. They call second ship and he says he is just approaching the LZ. Why are suddenly all sweating a bunch. Later we all smile and laugh about it over a beer.
Flare ship dropping flares out in the Crows Foot and the metal casing comes crashing down thru one of the aft blades on the ship next to us. Foot had seen that before at base camp and was hiding under his aft transmission next door telling all the guys to get some cover cause when that flare popped the can comes loose and it could kill you.
Oh you guys, get my mind to wandering over the good times or at least some of those we laughed about afterwards. I will try not to remember the other times that weren't so good. At least I will try not to remember.
Chris the Bigfoot
Busting rocket boxes and linking ammo
The metallic zip of a rocket being slid down the tube, and the click-snap as it locked in place
Free-for-all to see who got the pound cake and peaches
Watching the slicks go "covey" when a cold LZ suddenly went hot
Night missions- keeping one eye out for flare chutes
The absolute blackness after passing Phouc Vinh headed for Song Be
Warm French bread wrapped in newspaper and washed down with 33
Round wicker baskets full of chickens and ducks
Hauling marmite cans stacked to the ceiling, full of hot chow...while you ate C's
Arc lights
Cold showers from drop tanks that held the faint remnants of JP-4
Rats! BIG Rats.
Slogging thru knee deep runoff to get that shower
Watching for the team to get back on your day off
Getting dressed to go to bed
Ah yes...A CCN "Prairie Fire" some place west of the Ah Shau (where nobody ever went) in '71. It was dusk over the PZ and the ropes were coming straight up with little people hanging from them. Then the blade tips at 10 O'clock from a Snake giving cover. Oh yes, and the rubber knees that made those darn pedals turn mushy. What a rush. Couldn't see shit. Lots of noise and flashes from all directions. A near midair. Nothing like a low intensity twilight to carry through life.
Sprunger
The distinctive sound that rounds make as they "slap" into the sheet metal of the aircraft;
Sitting in the gunner's well while traveling 100 knots a. soaking wet and freezing b. with one's feet propped up on the ammo can enjoying a sunrise or sunset; being saturated with Agent orange and being told that this stuff won't hurt you; getting blood sprayed all over you and realizing it's not yours;
Cleaning up the aircraft after hauling KIAs or removing the remains of a fellow crewman and all evidence of his demise;
The smell of blood and zinc chromate paint;
Trying to replace an engine oil filter at 10 pm with your Zippo lighter after you have been flying since the crack of dawn;
The blessed feeling of being able to take any kind of shower after a long hot dirty day;
Heating C rations in the exhaust of the engine;
Mud, mildew and rot during monsoon season;
Dust sweat and jock itch during the dry season;
The empty feel of being left behind as you watch your unit fly off into a day of CAs when your bird is "down" for maintenance;
Flying into a hot area just ahead of a CA as you lay down a smoke screen...realizing that every gun is shooting at you;
Cooking a pizza at midnight in the mess hall with the night baker;
Fishing with hand grenades;
Eating fresh fish and being careful not to bite down too hard for fear of finding grenade remnants in your meal;
The smell of wood smoke in your clothing when the Vietnamese laundry has to dry your uniforms over an open fire during monsoon season;
Sneezing... and nearly losing your false teeth at 200 feet;
Trying to take a leak out the door at 200 feet;
Flying over the nurse's quarters at Cu Chi and hoping for a "cheap thrill";
Cooking Jiffy Pop on a Sterno stove;
Beer on your corn flakes.... beer and cookies.... brushing your teeth with beer... soaking your dentures in beer... warm beer.... cold beer... beer
Packages and letters from home;
Working in the "hell hole" of a UH-1 when the temperature is 120 degrees;
The Bob Hope Show!
Donut Dollies!
Party time!
Catch 22!
Tri Borders (Laos, DMZ and Vietnam)
FOB (Flight over the Border)
Frank Tijano-SOG
Standing on the helipad on Nui Ba Dinh enjoying the cool brisk breeze wash over you.
Balancing the stench of the "green ditch" vs. the value of the shower shoe you just lost in it.
Playing a weightless astronaut at the top of a cyclic climb.
The empty pit of the stomach feeling you get looking up through the greenhouse at the hole in the tree canopy, a hundred or so feet up, you just hovered down from
The excitement of stumbling across extension cords and light bulbs while scrounging.
Larry Carter-25th Avn
Not yet dawn, preflight done, walk to tail boom and fling blade strap from stinger. Remove blade hook and blade slowly inches it's way upward. Doors open awaiting arrival of pilots, sure hope we don't get????? For a Peter Pilot today. Gunner mounts 60's and ammo cans securely to gun posts. Pilots arrive, explains the days mission, which of course you already knew from talking to OPS specialist and who also switched the PP that you didn't want in the first place. AC and PP go through start-up, adjust radio freq. and then yells "clear' and igniters pop into action. Turbine slowly gains momentum and the bird begins to rock back and forth coming to life. You suit up, first the 'chicken plate' then the gloves. You swing yourself onto your
armor plated nylon seat, grab your helmet, plug in the mike cord and adjust the mike until it just makes contact with your lip. It was such a rush just getting suited up, you felt almost invincible, almost. AC checks to see if you and the gunner are ready, double click the mike is your reply and he gets clearance for liftoff. Blades turning ever faster, skids get light, a slight rock to the left then the right, then forward motion begins. Clear left, clear right, tail clear, a little transitional shudder, you're past the perimeter pull your 60 from it's clamp on the post and we're up. The day begins like almost every other day, but what will it hold. You fill in the'rest of the story'.
It was only yesterday, wasn't it? We ALL share the same emotion to this part of our lives. Thanks for providing this network of brother and sister hood that allows us to share those moments. IT REALLY MEANS SOMETHING!
A Rhoades, SP5, CE, C/229th AHB, 1st CAV, 6801-6902
Flying past the Batangan Peninsula late at night with no ground lights and no stars my first week in-country ( and first night mission) on the way to a Med-Evac pickup near Mai Lai. Seeing that little flash out of the corner of my eye every minute or so and finally startled when the Master Caution Light started to blink too.
I look closely at the instrument panel and the transmission indicators are almost inverted. Pressure going down. Master Caution light turns on solid.
AC (Aircraft Commander) apparently peeing his pants and no help, as he probably is thinking we are dead and what will happen to our main blade when the transmission freezes up, or when we set down and the bad guys come avisiting.
Dropping stupidly down below 500 feet because it feels safer.
I maintain control of the bird and fly to Quang Ngai MACV compound, all the while waiting for the transmission to freeze.
Landing in absolute blackness and having to use the main landing light to find the compound.
The feeling that I have used up one of my nine lives on shutdown when we check the transmission reservoir and find it empty. The knowledge that I was alive only because I was too stupid to give up, and had so very much to learn.
Finally, thanking God for the Training acquired at Fort Wolters and Fort Rucker, that made me keep control of the bird, rather then executing a forced night landing in Indian Country.
Wondering today where the Crew Chief and Gunner from that mission are...
Michael McCormick
Pelican 223
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