Missions: "Stick buddies"

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.

2/17/08

"Stick buddies"

“You’ve got it” and “I’ve got it” were the ICS (intercom communication system) comments when transferring control of the aircraft from one pilot to the other. Jimmy and I were on a night mission on the east side of Pleiku city and were making an approach to an improved helipad adjacent to a small hill. There were power or communication lines close to the pad so we had to be careful. We had both been in control of the Huey off and on because visibility of the power lines and at some point the aircraft started making some pretty wild gyrations as we got close to the ground. It was not unusual for the two of us to get into unusual attitudes just for grins but this time we both must have sensed things were a little more extreme than normal and we both asked “You got it?” Nope, neither one of us had it. I guess we both grabbed the controls at the same time and got things settled down. This was a very close call that taught us both to never get casual about who had control of the aircraft. We also agreed to fly with the magnetic force trim on just in case something like this happened again. I think we both matured, (a couple minutes anyway) during this experience. We flew together so much that we trusted each other implicitly and this might be a sound reason not to let the same people “stick buddy” too much like we did.

Before Jimmy moved to the Medivac outfit in Pleiku, we probably logged 500 hours together as it wasn’t hard to get over a hundred hours a month on a normal flight assignment schedule. I finished my tour with 1226 combat hours.