Chapter 7

Vietnam!

After thirty days leave, I was sitting in the airport in Anchorage, Alaska. It was cold outside and my destination was Vietnam. I was wondering what it was going to be like. Probably nothing like all the stories I had heard. They were calling for us to board, and I heard we were going to stop in Hawaii on the way there. We did but I never left the airport. I did walk around for a couple of hours and it was beautiful and warm. I told myself that if I ever get the chance to move here I would. Just that short time stayed with me, and I never forgot it.

We were on the last leg of the flight and the next stop was Vietnam. I would dose off for a while and awaken with thoughts of what I was leaving behind. The faces of all, who meant anything to me, continued flashing in my mind. I knew I would never see them again. I thrashed in my mind all of the possible ways I could get killed. I finally gave up. The hell with it let it happen.

"I love you mom." I thought.I felt lonely and a little pain in my heart thinking about Sue. I believe she may have helped me to get over the pain I suffered from Christi. The way I am thinking now, I knew I did the right thing by leaving her. "I love you Sue, have a great life, I hope you get everything out of life you want. Christi, you caught me with my guard down, Thank you. You taught me a valuable lesson. Never let your guard down when I comes to love. I love you, but I hate you. Have a good life and have a bad life. I do not care anymore, what ever happens to you.

This is a long flight, almost as bad as driving home from Kentucky or Alabama. Those were some miserable trips. The ride back to Fort Campbell after Christi dumped me. The ride to and from Memphis to dad's funeral was miserable. The ride to Fort Campbell in the back of a van, handcuffed. The ride back and forth to Memphis trying to figure out how to tell Sue I am going to Vietnam.

My brother Barry is there, I hope I can locate him when I get there. I hope none of my other brothers will have to come here. I wonder where they will assign me. I do not give a dam, put me anywhere.

The plane landed in Bin-Hoe just before noon. The heat and humidity hit my body just as I got off the plane. The temperature was 90 degrees and the humidity felt the same. I was feeling good. I had slept most of the way. They transported me to a small camp where I would stay for no more than a week. They put all the new guys there until they cut orders to where each was assigned. The first couple of days I spent hanging around the hooch (barracks) doing nothing.

I did not know how to get in touch with Barry. He had been there for most of a year and I tried to call him. I did get in touch with people in his company but he was always out. After the third try that week, I gave up on talking to him.

During that week, different companies would come through trying to recruit men. One particular group the 175^th Rangers were here recruiting. It sounded exciting and dangerous to me so I went for an interview. They explained they were looking to recruit men for what they called killer teams. They said, three man teams dropped in the jungle at designated spots. Their mission was to kill as many Viet Cong as they could and do recon. This sounded like what I wanted to do. They would have taken me in but there was a problem. I was trained in aviation and with my MOS they would not take me. I was pissed, but there nothing I could do. I ended up assigned to the 338^th Assault Support Helicopter Battalion (338^th ASHB). I would be working on Chinook Helicopters.

Finally assigned!

Two days later, I was in Bearclaw. It was about seventy miles south of Long-Bin. My first day there was unusual, I ended up in a hooch with a bunch of men that did nothing all day except lie around and smoke pot. I had never smoked it before, but they asked to try some. A little while later I knew what it meant to be high. One of the officers came to take me to the flight line to assign me a job. I tried to act straight and I never knew if he suspected me.

We reached the flight line in just a couple of minutes. It was only about a quarter of a mile. Everyone walked it instead of riding every morning. They offered me two jobs, I could work on choppers or they needed someone to do administrative work doing flight plans and things like that.

They were short on crewmembers so I took that job and the Line Commander assigned me as a crew chief on one of the choppers.

There were five men assigned to each chopper, two pilots, a door gunner, crew chief and the Flight engineer who was responsible for all maintenance done on the chopper. The next day they woke me at four thirty in the morning. There were long days and nights ahead of me for the next year. I would be working seven days a week, twelve to sixteen hours a day, but I would get use to it.

A routine day was getting up at four thirty, eating breakfast and being at the flight line at six. I would meet the FE and we would do any pre-maintenance that needed to be done before the pilots arrived. Once the pilots got there, usually about six thirty, we would be ready to take off. The pilots would do their inspections and pre-flight checks before that days work. Normally, we would take off anytime between seven and eight, then fly to different locations.

We would pick up troops, supplies, and anything that the infantry might need in the different LZ's (Landing Zones) in the jungle. Sometimes we would pick up troops that had been in the boonies for weeks at a time. The stench of their body odor would stay with you for a long time since they could not take a bath or shower. Sometimes the smell was sickening. Many times, we would transport Army Republic of Vietnam soldiers or ARVIN'S to different LZ's. They would carry their wife, children and most everything they owned like pigs and chickens with them. One of the things I did not like doing was flying dead soldiers from out in the field back to the hospital morgue. I always felt sorry for them and their families.

I had heard of a couple of men shot in our company the past year while flying. The Vietcong, with their AK-47'S were notorious for catching choppers coming into or leaving an LZ and shooting up into them. Everyone wore flak jackets but it only covered your stomach and back. They told me one was hit in the leg and the other person took one in the chin at his neck. They both survived and shipped home but that made me realized that at any time it could happen, but that was fine with me.

When you flew from one point to another point carrying whatever cargo, we called it a sortie. On a normal day, we would fly from twenty to forty sorties depending on the distance. I remained a crew chief for about two months and I loved flying and working on helicopters.

Promoted to Flight-Engineer!

The CO offered to move me up in the Flight Engineer spot on another chopper so I took it. It did not take me long to realize the load that would be on my shoulders. Now I was responsible for the safety of four other men and a multi-million dollar helicopter at the age of nineteen. I learned quick and accepted the responsibility. The positive aspect was I loved working on Chinooks. It was easy for me to identify with the mechanics of them. I always had the ability to understand mechanical equipment and to be able to trouble shoot problems.

As soon as I took over my own ship, I became close friends with a couple of pilots. One, I really liked was Lieutenant David Petry because he would let me sit in the co-pilot seat and get stick time. I nicknamed him Jo-Petry and I always loved to fly with him. One of his tricks and my favorite was he would pick a winding dirt road in the jungle, low level about fifty foot off the ground, and hug the turns back and forth. It would turn your stomach sometimes but it was fun and helped with the boredom of the same routines we had to do some weeks. I knew we were taking chances but that was the fun of it.

The chopper had a four by four square hole in the center of the floor with a bar across the center of it and an electric hook on the bar. The pilot would push a button, the hook opened up and any load on the hook released. I would lay on my flak jacket with my head over the hole. While picking up a load, we never touched the ground. The pilot would approach a load. A man on the ground, which we called red-hats, because they wore red hats, would be waiting to hook the loads as the pilot hovered above.

My job at this point in the flight was to instruct the pilot of the distance the chopper was to the load since he could not see once he was over it. Looking down the hole, I would say to him. "The load is in sight, come forward twenty, fifteen, ten, five, four, three, two, one hold. Come left or right five, four, three, two one hold." The red hat would hook the load and I would say to the pilot. "Loads hooked up, come straight up." Once the load was off the ground, I would say. "Loads clear, you are free to go."

One particular day we were picking up a ten by ten gondola in a net. The Red Hat was standing on the load waiting to hook it up. He must have been new because whenever we would hover over him he would jump off the load. I guess he was scared of a thirty thousand-pound helicopter hovering inches above his head. We attempted three or four times allowing him to get back up on the load and try again. We would try to hover no more than five or six feet above the load to allow him to stand on the load, reach up and hook it.

Finally, after being frustrated with him. I instructed the pilot to come down five, four, three, two, one the red hat jumped. The chopper slammed on top of the gondola. I was laughing so hard, I told the pilot what I had done and we laughed about it. Then he told me to go down and hook the load. I crawled through the hole and jumped onto the load, all the time instructing him on the distance. I hooked the load crawled back in and we left. We laughed about it every so often.

My first Encounter!

Sometimes we would get a warning if an LZ were under fire. We called it a Hot LZ. If we were flying a sortie to it, we were not required to enter. Most of the time, we would wait until the incoming Mortars or firing stopped. Warrant officer Hooker my other friend who I nick named "Hook" happened to be one of my pilots on a day we were carrying a sortie of ammunition and food to a hot LZ. We got word that they had been fighting for three days, there were three wounded and seven bodies that needed evacuated. I was surprised when Hook said.

"Chief, it's your chopper. Do you want to take a chance on going in?"

"Let's go for it!" I answered. We went in, dropped off our load. After we had sat down to pick up wounded, two mortar rounds exploded within thirty yards and several at a distance. I already had my ramp down and loading the seven bodies when the pilot yelled over the headset.

"Chief, get in I'm pulling out!

"One minute sir, I've got two more bodies and another wounded!" I replied.

"Now chief now! He shouted over the headset because another mortar exploded close to us.

"Just one second, sir! I replied again, with my Adrenalin flowing. The excitement of action was in a way a great feeling. I got the last one on and said.

"Go sir! We got them all! He lifted off and headed to the Medi-Vac hospital. After landing and removing the bodies and wounded, I was inspecting my chopper to see if we took any rounds or shrapnel. We had not taken any but Hook was pissed. He came over to where I was.

"Chief, You Son of a Bitch! The next time I say we are lifting off, I am not waiting for you."

"Hook! You know you would not leave me on the ground." I said smiling at him.

"Don't call me Hook while I am pissed!" he said acting as though he was.

"You asked me about going in, remember, Hook? I asked continuing to smile.

"Sure I remember but I didn't know you were going to drag your ass."

"Sir, everything worked out. My sweetheart didn't get hurt! I said patting my chopper and leaning over to kiss it. "You're not hurt are you sweetheart? I joked looking at it as though it were my lover.

"Lamour, you are crazy as hell!" he said walking away shaking his head.

Seven days later, everyone on my copper received The Army Commendation, for valor. I smiled at Hook. He smiled back and shook his head. The five of us on that flight would mention it from time to time.

Forget Her!

A few days later, I was sitting alone in the club during the evening drinking a beer. For some reason Sue was on my mind. I could not shake my thoughts of her. I walked to the hooch and borrowed two sheets of paper and an envelope from Fred. He was curious as to whom I was writing because he knew I had not written anyone since I had been there. I would not tell him and he did not press me for an answer. I sat at his little makeshift desk he had built for himself to write his wife, which he wrote almost every night.

He left to shower and I was sitting alone to write. I took her picture out of my billfold, stared at it a few minutes, and laid it on the desk. I thought a few minutes of what to write before I ever picked up the pencil. Glancing at her picture again I thought how beautiful she is. I wondered if she would wait for me as she had said. I knew what I had done to her was almost inhumane. My own experience had taught me that only weeks, possibly days of separation could change a persons heart. I knew that oh so well.

I knew in my heart that she loved me with all of hers but could that love stand the test of time. Knowing I was coming over here, she still wanted to marry me. That in it self says something given that David had died here. She deserves a letter from me but what do I write. What could I say that could ease her pain when the fact remains that I was certain I was not going to return. There was nothing specific I could think of so I picked up the pencil and began writing whatever came to mind.

To the most loving person I know. No, that is so stupid! I wadded the paper.

To Sue my love. No, that sends the wrong message! I wadded that sheet also.

Sue,

How are you? I am certain this letter is unexpected but you were on my mind tonight. I wanted to say a few things that hate might not fill your heart as it has mine. I know your heart and I know you deserve only the best in life. You are the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me but I was and am blinded by events that control my thoughts, but not my heart. In hindsight, it now breaks my heart to know that I have broken yours. I had never felt loved as when I was with you but the world I live in now has my heart trapped with no exits. At this moment in my life, there is no room to share that love. When you find another heart to share your love, I hope it to be deserving of you. However, please remember, there was once a love for you that knew only the joy and beauty of life. You deserved more than I could give. My wish is that the sadness will fade away and you will only know love and joy throughout your life.

Goodbye My Love

This does not make sense! I have no business writing her anything! I laid the pencil down, picked her picture up and stared at it. You are so sweet. You probably would be hurt again just by reading a letter from me. I laid her picture down again and picked the pencil up thumping it on the desk while I thought if I should write. Without thinking further, I wadded the letter up and threw it in the trash. I love you but I do not deserve you. Forgive me. I got up from the desk and returned to the bar drinking several more beers. In the future, I would block out all thoughts of her.

A reality of war!

Sometimes I would get bored with the same routine while flying and tell my door gunner to move and let me sit at his window. On one extremely hot afternoon I had gotten tired of looking at the inside walls of my helicopter. Seeing the same image each day had burned itself in my mind many times over while flying. Walls covered with endless lengths of hydraulic lines and electrical wire harnesses. The continuous screaming sounds of Engines and transmissions above my head penetrating my helmet also added to my extreme boredom.

I was sitting at the left gunners window and looking over the land. I was amazed at the devastation. As far as the eye could see, there were ponds everywhere perfectly round in form. Thousands of them just yards from one another. This country should be renamed "The Land of a Million Ponds", because of all the craters made from bombs. During the monsoons, every crater would fill with rainwater. The dry season took on another form. In some areas, it reminded me of the moon, void of water and vegetation.

I thought of a week ago when I looked out this same window while in another Province and saw thousands of acres of bare rain forest destroyed. The army sprayed the forest to kill all foliage to keep the Vietcong from having places to hide. I new it was necessary in some areas but the effect it had on anyone 's mind viewing it was the same.

I saw few areas untouched by war as I flew missions each day. The greatest devastation to this country was to the people. It was a common familiarity to see young children maimed from fire and explosions. Limbs missing, a scar of burns covering portions of their bodies. If asked how many brothers and sisters some of them have the answer most likely will be three to seven. However, most of them missing, dead or are in the army and not heard from in months or even years.

Many children are born of American fathers, considered outcast and shunned by villages to fend for themselves. The term most often used for these is half-breeds. Everywhere you turn, they are present, begging for money or food to feed themselves. It may be hard for some to understand but it did not take long to turn cold toward them.

I think we as Americans, if asked to speak the truth, look down on the Vietnamese people. The fact is they do not seem to view this war as we do. In simplicity, they are living each day to survive another one. We on the other had are offended because we are defending their country when it seems they have no appreciation of this. When we see or hear of American casualties it compounds those feelings.

Speaking for myself and many other soldiers, I think we as a whole are in total disrespect of them as a people or for their traditions and consider them sometimes, less than human. War instills strange thoughts in the mind of young men placed in battle. No wonder they rotate men during war. We are succumbed by constant devastation with no hope of finality.

We think of ourselves as men by nature and by having served in battle but we return to our homes and families with our minds permeated with images branded in them of all we have seen, having lost our innocence.

My Second Encounter!

Weeks later we had been flying sorties for several hours on a hot but clear day. Several times prior, I had asked Captain Lewis when I had flown with him if I could get some stick time but he always refused. I sensed then it may have been something personal but I thought I would try again. He always seemed like a stuck-up asshole. Some of the other FE's mentioned in the past that they did not like flying with him either.

"Captain, how about a little stick time." I said over the headset.

"Not today chief!" he replied sarcastically. My Crewcheif and door gunner were looking back at me as I stuck my finger up shooting him the bird. They were laughing and shaking their heads. I knew that would be his answer but I had to ask. I knew he did not feel I deserved to fly because I was not a pilot. That was fine with me because other pilots would let me in the cockpit.

We had landed for lunch outside of an LZ. I had not eaten breakfast and for some reason I did not eat lunch. Afterwards, we lifted off and had been flying sorties for an hour when we lost hydraulics in flight. Captain Lewis and Warrant Officer Walden sat us down in the middle of a clearing about seventy-five yards from a tree line where the jungle began. Captain Lewis called in our co-ordinance and asks for a parts run, putting in an order for a hydraulic pump and gunship support.

Everyone seemed nervous about the location where we had landed. The pilots and I carried 38 caliber Pistols. There were two 60-caliber machine guns mounted on either side of the chopper in window openings in which the crew chief and the door gunner operated. The Crewcheif and gunner also had M-16 rifles. That gave some security but would not help in a mortar attack.

Suddenly all hell broke loose with automatic gunfire. I had already begun removing the defective pump at the rear of the ship as I looked forward and saw Delk, my Crewcheif returning fire. I ran forward to the hole to retrieve my flak jacket that was lying on the floor. The pilots had gotten from their seats and moved between the bulletproof walls of the electrical compartment. I glanced out of one of the windows and noticed the grass standing about four feet high, thinking it would give us good cover.

"Sir, get out and take cover in the grass!" I yelled pointing down the hole. The fuel tanks were bullet proof but I was not sure they could take a mortar hit. Shipley, my door gunner was on the floor. His 60-caliber was on the opposite side of the gunfire and was not much use. "Delk, bring your 60 and let's get out the hole! Delk, get your 60 down the hole!" I yelled Twice. As he was trying to dismount it, a round hit him in the shoulder that knocked him to the floor. The pilots had crawled out with Shipley following behind. I ran up to the front of the chopper grabbing Delk and yelling to Shipley. "Get Delk out, I'm going to get the M-60's. He grabbed Delk's flight suit at the collar and drug him to the hole, exiting. I pulled the pin on the mount holding the M-60 in the cradle and crawled to the hole, handing it to Captain Lewis as he was looking up at me.

"Leave the other one! Let's get the hell out of here!" He shouted.

"Hell no, we might need it! I yelled back and ran forward with rounds putting holes in the walls of the chopper from the automatic gunfire. I lunged on the floor and crawled to the other M-60 reaching up and pulling the pin out of the mount. I stood up to remove it out of the cradle and an AK-47 round creased my neck causing a gash. "Shit! Mother Fucker!" I yelled grabbing my neck.

"Get the fuck out Chief!" the Captain yelled with his head protruding from the hole. I dismounted it and laid it on the floor grabbing two ammo boxes and sliding them across the floor to the hole as he took them and dropped to the ground. I grabbed the barrel of the M-60 and crawled to the hole. As I lowered it to him, the blood from my neck was dripping onto his face.

"Damn Chief, are you hit?"

"Fuck yes, the Son of a Bitches!" I shouted.

"The others are about twenty yards over there. Let's go!" he said pointing behind the rear of the chopper. We crawled following the imprint the others had made in the tall grass until we reached them. The gunfire continued relentlessly.

"Where is our Fucking Support?" Walden shouted.

"We're in deep shit. They don't know we're taking fire." Captain Lewis said.

"We need to return fire so they won't attack us." I yelled.

"Shipley, take your M-60 over by the ramp and draw their fire away from Delk! We have to get his bleeding stopped. Chief how is your wound?" the Captain asked.

"I'm Ok." I said. I tore part of my T-Shirt and tied it around my neck, containing the bleeding.

Shipley had begun returning fire every so often not wanting to use up all the ammo at once. Charlie continued spraying the area with gunfire.

"They don't have mortars or they would have used them. It must be a recon patrol." I stated.

"Sounds like there are ten or fifteen of them from the fire." Walden shouted.

"Fuck! I'm hit! I'm hit in the knee! Shipley yelled.

"Walden, go help him and take over on the sixty." The Captain said pulling at his arm. Walden crawled over to Shipley and tied his knee to slow the bleeding. I grabbed one of the M-16's and a belt of clips.

"Fuck this shit. I'm not sitting on my ass!" I said crawling away from them.

"Chief, where the fuck you going! Get your ass back here!" The Captain yelled.

"Fuck this shit!" I shouted and continued crawling.

"You Son of a Bitch, get back here!" he yelled. I laughed to myself, thinking he may have thought I was running.I ignored him and continued crawling. I hope there is not twenty of them Mother Fuckers! I thought to myself. I crawled as fast as I could in a semicircle toward the tree line stopping long enough to remove my flack jacket that was weighing me down. As I reached the edge, I moved toward the gunfire listening to determine how close I was to them. I raised my head every so often to see if I could spot them trying not to be seen myself. When I thought I was close, I moved to an old tree lying in front of me. I peeked around a limb sticking out one side of it. You stupid Mother Fuckers! I thought. They were standing up to look over the grass to get a better view of us, holding the guns over their heads and firing indiscriminately, exposing themselves. There were eleven of them. Six I could easily get but five stood on the other side of a few small trees out of clear sight. Fuck it, I have come this far. I checked the clip in the M-16 to make sure it was full. Then placed three clips in a way it would be easiest to reload.

I'm going to wait until the one just behind the tree needs to reload and then open fire. I lay silently until I saw him beginning to reload. I open fired on them and when I saw the first three fall I ran forward, continuing to fire hitting the other three that were exposed attempting to run. I lunged behind another log giving me the advantage of cover. I forced them to lie behind small rotted tree stumps with little cover. I had gotten behind them keeping them from getting back deeper into the undergrowth. Their only way out was to go through the tall grass into the field or run in the opposite direction.

The firing stopped for a moment as I heard one of them shouting at the others as though he were shouting commands. I knew something was about to happen. I continued observing around the log waiting for them to make a move. Suddenly two of them began firing, running back toward the thicket. I open fired hitting them both. I had emptied a clip and I reloaded. I was in a perfect position to see them if they exposed themselves in any way. I knew we were at a standstill. There were three remaining but I knew I still had the advantage unless the three of them went in three directions and I missed any of them. Knowing they were planning something because they had been silent too long, I kept my rifle pointed at them and my eyes open waiting for them to make a move but they lay still.

I could end it for myself right now by rushing them but I knew what they would do if I were only wounded. They would probably torture me, so I am not going to chance it. I did not care if I died but the thought of being tortured was not so appealing. At this moment, I was willing to wait it out because I knew that soon help would arrive. I hope their help does not get here first. I heard my name called in the distance and I yelled back trying to answer but I was not sure if they could hear me. The shouting was at a distance so I knew no one was coming any closer. I shot a few rounds at the gooks to let the others know it was not safe to approach. As I lay there, it became so quiet it was deafening.

As I listened, I heard a chopper in the distance. By the sound, it was coming closer, but I could not know for sure. I knew they would have to make a move now. I prepared myself mentally to do whatever it takes not be taken alive.

They suddenly began firing and running in three directions. The one running to the thicket was the easiest. I unloaded a clip on him finally bringing him down. I should have gone for the one that ran to the grass. Now he could circle behind me and maybe get the advantage. I jumped up, ran to the grass throwing myself down, and began crawling further into it so he would not know my position. I lay still listening for any sound. My face and hands were stinging from crawling through the tall blades of grass that had cut razor like incisions in my skin. I felt fear that he would see me first. If he went toward the chopper, he could surprise the others. Maybe his commander ordered him to take out the others. I knew I had to make a move now. I began crawling toward the others but felt I was not moving fast enough. My Adrenalin was flowing and I felt my heart beating so hard I was panting to get a breath. I stopped and stood up, looked in a three-sixty circle several times as I ran toward the chopper. I was dodging and weaving to make myself less a target. When I was close, I almost yelled for Captain Lewis to warn him but I caught a glimpse of something moving ahead of me. I was not sure what it was so I did not fire.