Welcome to flying stories of my time in Viet Nam



These stories are dedicated to James G. Zeimet who I refer to in a number of them. Jimmy was a good friend and class mate in flight school, a "hootchmate" in Vietnam and he frequently talked about his desire to fly Medivac. After about seven months in Vietnam, he finally got his wish and was transferred to the 283rd "Dustoff" Medivac unit at Camp Holloway, Pleiku. On September 4th, 1968, he lost his life flying the mission he dreamed about while trying to save the life of a fellow soldier. His name appears on panel 45W - Line 37 at the Wall in Washington, DC.

When I got out of the Army in 1972, I had this idea of writing a book about my experiences in Vietnam where I flew helicopters. While a noble goal, I didn't get started on it for about 35 years. As time passes, you tend to push bad experiences into some seldom visited spot in your brain where they don't bother you much. But I still remember Vietnam like it was just yesterday and wish I could plug my mind into a PC and play it! It would be an interesting video. I won't post everything I've written all at once because I intend to scan old slides, (I have hundreds!) to add to the stories which should provide a little interest. So here they are and I hope you enjoy them.

In the stories, I describe any enemy combatant as a “gook”. This term has no racial connotation nor is it a slur. We used it as freely as one would say, “bad guy”. I can relate it to WW2 radio terminology for German enemy as “Krauts" or "Gerry’s”. Nothing personal or racially motivated, just a convenient way of alerting your fellow war-fighters about your foe. I also refer to anyone fighting the war on the ground as “Grunts”. This is a term I use with great respect for those that weren’t privileged to fight “their war” from the comfort of a helicopter or enjoy going back to “base camp” each evening to a cold Budweiser and a relatively clean bed. The Infantrymen I spoke with unanimously opined that we were the ones that were at much greater risk than them and they would much rather spend their “tour” safely on the ground and exchanging bullets with the NVA. I guess it’s all in your perspective.



2/24/08

Signal Hill and Dragon Mountain
Flying the chaplains to conduct worship
Sundays gave us the opportunity to fly the chaplains to different locations to conduct worship services and our favorite was the helipad on top of “Signal Hill” on the northwest corner of base camp. The helipad was about 50 feet from the edge of the mountain and when we left to take him back to the main helipad at Hensel we would just feel the shudder of translational lift as we broke over the edge. With the landscape rapidly falling away we’d push the nose over as far as we dared and go roaring down the face of the mountain. When we got to the bottom, we’d be at VNE or “velocity never exceed”, (about 130 MPH) and pull up into a zoom climb that was certain to have the chaplain praying like he never had before. Jimmy described this sort of maneuver as “whoop tee pooping”. We did a lot of “whoop tee pooping”.
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3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Not nice to treat a chaplin that way! Shame on you boys.

June 30, 2007 at 11:11 AM
Judy said...

I bet the chaplins were do the pooping!!!!Bad Boys!

July 2, 2007 at 12:11 AM
Unknown said...

One day the chaplin on my slick left behind part of his communion kit. At first we were delighted, but found they made poor party snacks when washed down with beer. This was the same guy that made the division close down "Sin City," where only enlisted troops could go and the hookers were inspected and treated by Army docs. I understand the incidence of disease rose sharply when the guys had to take their business all the way into town.

July 15, 2009 at 12:39 PM

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