I've recently been asked about my experiences in
the VN war and how it has affected my life. I wrote this a few years back in an
answer to pretty much the same questions. It's about my reflections on my time in-country. It's how I deal with it
and have dealt with it. It's about what I choose to
remember....
We were a small group. 6 Gunships. 6 gunners, 6 crew chiefs, 11 warrants,
and 1 commissioned officer (About half didn't make it the entire year so there
was always some new guys around I guess but we were still pretty tight) - our
platoon leader was a Captain. About the only time I had anything to do with him
was when I was assigned to fly with him, which thank God wasn't too often.
During that year he blew up a parked helicopter while he was taxing to
refuel after having forgotten to place the arms of safe.He flew too low once on
a dive and nearly tore the skids off so we had to hover for 20 minute while a
ground crew made a stand for us to sit down on out of sand bags. Once while
flying at tree top level with his head buried in a map attempting to figure out
where we were he nearly flew us into the side of a tree, when the co-pilot
warrant grabbed the stick to save our asses he jerked it back and in the process
fired off a rocket which went about three feet under the skids of the lead
gunship. And once when it was obvious that he didn't have the Rpm's to obtain
transitional lift before the end of the runway he waited too long before
shutting it down and crashed us into the tree line. His nick name became CB,
short for "Crash and Burn" after that until he was finally grounded.
I don't remember that we ever had many formations, we just went to the
flight shack to get our assignments after breakfast. While the pilots had their
briefings us crew hung around the shack or checked out the helicopters and gun
systems. Mostly we did a lot of waiting. If we were still at base camp during
lunch and dinner we ate in the mess hall, other then that we didn't spend much
time in the company area except to shower and sleep.
Some nights we were assigned to being on alert status and then we spent the
night in the flight shack where there were 8 bunks, the officers and enlisted
slept together then. There we got to watch TV a little and play some chess and
we all did that together as well. All of this of course was when we were not on
missions.
While I did get to see the Bob Hope show and was allowed time to take care
of my laundry, take showers, etc., I don't remember ever really having a day off
either except for the 7 days I had of R&R.
We rarely ever wore complete uniforms, I mostly wore fatigue pants, a green
T-shirt and a floppy bush hat when not flying. I don't even recall what platoon
number we were, we just called ourselves the gun platoon. The company had other
platoons in which there were mechanics, avionics people, supply clerks, admin
types, cooks, etc., but they were in separate hooch's and I really don't
remember any of them, nor did we interact much with them. I suppose the crew
chiefs interacted with the mechanics a bit but I wasn't part of that. I was a
door gunner.The only part of that scene I was involved in was out back where
they had some 50 gal drums cut in half that I cleaned the guns in.
I was just a 19 year old kid at the time who was scared out of his skull
most of that year (though I'm told I hid it well), my introspective thoughts
never much got past eating, pissing, crapping, showering, sleeping, and
surviving the day.Actually as I remember it I merely functioned much like a
robot. I didn't think too much about anything at the time. I just followed
orders and did what was expected of me, which was mostly to keep the guns clean
and working and to keep on pulling the trigger. My mind and my personality was
just... well, pretty much numb and put on hold for that year. The Army really
didn't require that I had or used either, just that I kept the guns clean and
working, and of course that I had great eyesight.. and aim... so that's pretty
much all I gave the Army during that year.
But I do remember the CO and XO. The CO was a LTC and he reminds me now of
Col. Potter of MASH, sort of a gruff fatherly guy who wasn't very military, nor
did I see much of him. The XO was a Major. A quiet man who never got excited
much but inspired a great deal of respect and admiration. It was he who gave
most of the briefings. They even flew a few missions too.
On one mission I accidentally shot door handle off when the old man
was the AC and when we landed I had to key the mike and say, "I'm sorry sir
but I won't be able to open your door this time." "Why not?", he calmly asked.
"Ah, because I think I may have shot it off sir." He paused for a moment and
then quietly replied, "No problem Mike, I can still open my own door." And he
never said another word about it to me after that. When we had our small
gatherings to present medals it was he who presented them. He would stand you at
attention, read the citation out loud, then shake your hand, look you straight
in the eye and say, "Thank you Mike" (He knew all of our first names and always
used them instead of our last names or rank.) Then he would hand you the medal
and immediately salute you, I mean first. It was the only time an officer ever
saluted me first. He had this way of making the hair stand up on the back of
your neck, sending a chill up your spine, and putting a lump in your throat.
When he had finished presenting medals at those small gatherings there was
usually more then one eye in the group that was glistening or teared up.
The rest of what I can remember I try not to....
Michael AKA Bumper US Army Spec - 4 8/64 - 8/67 American Legion Rider, Post 575 |