Voices From Vietnam: A Collection of War Histories

VOICES FROM VIETNAM

A Collection of War Histories

Edited by

Joe Freitus

Cover art by Dan Saunders

All proceeds will be donated to the Veterans

Copyright 2016 by Joe Freitus

SmashWords Edition

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Compiling personal war histories involves many hours of research, locating sources, interviewing and talking with participants, and conferring with military historians and various contributing military organizations.

I would sincerely like to thank the following individuals and organizations for their contributions to this collection of war histories: Bill Ashley, Mankato, MN; Terry Miller, Exec. Director Tin Can Sailors Assoc,; Veterans for Peace, John Kim, Dir.; Mary and Jack Schantag, POW Network; Mobile Riverine Force; Don Blankenship and Paul Stillwell, US Naval Institute; Vietnam USMC Tankers Assoc., Donald R. Gagnon, Teaticket, Ma.; Dr. Herman, USN Bureau of Med., and a special thanks to the unusual Gang of Five Veterans of Vietnam, who patiently read, corrected details, and commented on the work in progress; Capt. Marshall Hanson, USNR (Ret.) and Capt. Scott Beaton, Statistical Source; Vietnam War: Facts, Stats and Myths.

A special thanks to Stephen Silvasy Jr., Major General, US Army (Ret.), for his untiring assistance in locating, verifying war histories and his advice concerning the situation in Vietnam.

Last, but never least, thank you to my wife, Anne.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Preface

Kenneth G. Riley, 1/50th Infantry Regiment

Daniel J. Sherlock, Pilot. USAF

Rick Broadhead, USS Bausell

Donald R. Alms, 25th Infantry Div.

Howard Blum, Tanker, USMC

Marion C. Crawford, 1st Sgt., US Army

Charles E. Shelton, 5th Tactical Recon

Stephen Silvasy, Jr., 101st Airborne Div.

Vincent Capodanno, Chaplain, 5th MarDiv.

Joe Mays, 82nd Airborne Div.

Jackie Audi, American Red Cross

Rocco Giambrocco. 1st MarDiv.

Theodore Wilson Guy, Pilot, USAF

Arthur W. Fort, US Navy, Sea Bees

Claire Starnes, Translator, USAECAV.

William Townsley, FAC

Patrick Henry Brady, Dust Off Pilot

Betty Ann Olsen, Missionary Nurse

William Raborg, 196th Inf. Reg.

Thomas L. Cochran, Pilot, USN

Paul Stillwell, Cmd. USN

Gerold G. Ricks, Riverine Force

Jimmy Melito, 5th MarDiv.

Elmer H. Haupt, Air Ops.

Karen Offutt, US Army

William T. Brown, US Special Forces

Charles Klusmann, Pilot, Sq. VFP-63

Loren D. Hagen, 5th Special Forces

Karen K. Taufer, Entertainer

Bradley Jimmerson, 101st Airborne Div.

Daniel B. Sheehan, OV-10 Bronco

John Mookie Harris, Air America

Chuck Packer, USS Rowan (DD782)

William Schultz, Musician, US Army Band

Thomas James Davis, 196th Inf Brigade

Helen M. Ross, Field Nurse, US Army

Johnnie Corns, OP Off. Riverine Force

Everett Alvarez, Jr., Pilot, Attack Sq. 144

Martin O. Detlie, Pilot, USAF.

From The Editor

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PREFACE

"In case you have not been paying attention these past few decades, after you returned from Vietnam, the clock has been ticking. Of the 2,709,918 Americans who served in Vietnam, less than 850,000 are estimated to be alive today, with the youngest American Vietnam Veteran’s age approximated to be 60 years old. So, if you are alive and reading this, how does it feel to be among the last 1/3 of all the U.S. Vets who served in Vietnam? I don’t know about you guys, but it kinda gives me the chills. Considering this is the kind of information I am used to reading about World War II and Korean War Vets.

So for the last 14 years, we have been dying too fast, and only a few will survive by 2025…if any. If these facts are true, 390 Vietnam Vets die each day. So, in 2,190 days from today, if you are a Vietnam Vet and still alive, you are looking at 6-10 years."

Ref: (Capt. Marshall Hanson and Capt. Scott Beaton)

The war never ended in Vietnam, after the cessation of World War II. Between 1945 and 1954 Vietnam waged an anti-colonial war to secure its freedom from France. When the French were defeated at Dien Bien Phu, a Peace Conference convened at Geneva. The result removed Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia from France. Vietnam was divided between the Communist of the North and the Anti-Communist of the South.

By the late 1950s, Communist controlled guerrillas, known as the Viet Cong were fighting in South Vietnam. Ho Chi Minh, leader of North Vietnam, directed his forces to destroy the government forces of South Vietnam. President Eisenhower decided that if the North Vietnamese Communist forces prevailed, the rest of Southeast Asia would fall like so many dominoes, hence the Domino Theory. Communism was threatening governments around the world. He attempted to reinforce the French Foreign Legion, fighting in Vietnam, by sending large quantities of World War II surplus military equipment, as well as some advisors. Officially the Vietnam War began in 1959.

In 1960, newly elected President, John F. Kennedy, declared he would not allow South Vietnam to fall to the Communist North Vietnamese. In addition to political backing, Kennedy provided military aid and large sums of money, mostly directed by the intense involvement of the C.I.A. South Vietnam’s conventionally trained and equipped army was no match for the Viet Cong’s irregular guerrilla warfare. It appeared that the fall of South Vietnam was eminent, and the North Vietnamese Communists would prevail.

President Kennedy sent in 2,000 Special Force Advisors to train the poorly led South Vietnamese forces. More and more advisors were sent in, destined to reach a total of 16,300. The political situation deteriorated to the point that the President of South Vietnam, Ngo Dinh Diem, was assassinated by South Vietnam generals.

With the loss of the fertile and food producing area of the Mekong Delta to the Viet Cong, then President, Lyndon Johnson decided to escalate the air war, and sent in air strikes against North Vietnamese targets. Beginning March 2, 1965, Navy and Air Force aircraft began bombing targets in North Vietnam. Along with the air strikes, President Johnson increased the number of ground forces to 536,000, and increased the role of the clandestine operations run by the CIA.

When the USS Maddox was attacked by North Vietnamese torpedo boats in the Bay of Tonkin, Congress passed the Southeast Asia Resolution, allowing President Johnson to conduct all out military operations against the Vietcong and North Vietnamese, without a declaration of war. Young Americans would soon serve in the sweltering jungles of Vietnam, as the draft called up more and more young people. When draft deferments were granted to college students, it was quickly realized that a disproportionate number of troops, serving in Vietnam, were from less affluent and less educated backgrounds.

Anti-war demonstrations erupted, few at first, but then spread throughout the campuses. When President Johnson escalated the war, the protest movement steadily grew. Reinforced by watching body bags, every night on television, being loaded on aircraft headed for the States, Americans steadily became weary of the war.

The war quickly became one of increased technological innovations, massive bombing programs, and the first use of helicopters in an aggressive combat role. In an effort to counter the Vietcong, the war spread into neighboring nations, such as Laos and Cambodia (a neutral).

The North Vietnamese changed tactics, and shifted to engaging US Troops in smaller units. In January of 1968, the North Vietnamese, along with units of the Vietcong, attacked targeted cities throughout South Vietnam. Eventually the North Vietnamese and Vietcong were beaten back with heavy casualties, but the deaths, being reported on daily television news, shook the confidence of the American public.

President Richard Nixon shifted the war to one of Vietnamization, gradually withdrawing American troops. South Vietnam would now be forced to play a greater role in defending their country. Despite the withdrawal of American Forces, the United States continued the flow of arms and money, in order to prop up the government.

When Nixon decided to send troops into neighboring Laos and Cambodia on search and destroy missions, in an attempt to combat the Vietcong, protests erupted across the country, especially on the nation’s campuses.

The withdrawal of Allied troops quickly exposed the ineffective role of the South Vietnam troops in combat. Once again, it was U.S. airpower that was called upon to prevent defeat, as the situation continued to deteriorate.

A peace accord was finally signed in Paris, on January 27, 1974. American Forces beat a hasty departure by March of 1974, and South Vietnam surrendered April 30, 1975.

Although supported by many Americans, countless young people reviled those who were called on to fight the war, and treated them with derision. Returning troops were treated terribly, and even spit upon. For those who fought the war, return to the country for which they fought, was not a fair treatment of their service.

These stories are the histories of the professional and citizen soldiers that served during the war in South Vietnam. While collecting histories for Voices From a Distant war (WW2) I received many additional histories from those who served in Korea and then Vietnam. It was not my intention to write about this era. With so many histories we put together a second book titled: Voices From Korea. The histories of those who served in Vietnam kept arriving at my desk. With so many histories we decided to format them into a book called: Voices From Vietnam.

This editor asks the reader to keep in mind I am the editor not the writer of these histories. With the exception of checking for spelling errors and typographical errors the histories remain as received.

The writers of these histories, which are represented here, seldom relate to their treatment upon return, but only to their experience in the brutality of the war. These are memoirs written in their own hand, and not that of a professional writer. Unlike Voices From A Distant War, most of these men and women, who served during that time, are still alive; suffering not only the brutality of the war, but remembering their treatment upon arriving back home.

The severity of the Vietnam War can be seen with a visit to the Vietnam Wall in Washington, D.C. There are 57,939 names of men and women etched in the hauntingly dark colored gabbro rock.

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KENNETH G. RILEY, VIETNAM

1/50TH INFANTRY, US ARMY

The 50th Infantry Brigade was sent to Vietnam and attached to the 1st Cavalry Div, where it fought in the Central Highlands of Vietnam. The Brigade was involved in the defense of Hue during the Tet offensive.

I was drafted into the Army on 10 August 1966, spending my boot camp at both Forts Gordon and Jackson. From there, I went to Fort Lewis, Washington, then to Fort Knox in Kentucky, and finally arrived at Fort Hood, Texas, in the spring of 1967, with the 1/50th Infantry. We underwent intense training (Infantry, Mechanized, and Combat Assault) for several months. In late August word was passed to pack our gear for deployment overseas.

After twenty days aboard the Liberty Ship, USNS General John Pope, we finally disembarked for Vietnam. We ended up being assigned to the 1ST Cavalry, out of Ahn Khe, and were sent to a new LZ, called Ichiban, after our motto. Not being a very defensive position, we ended up in LZ Uplift for the duration of our tour. Leaving the country in June of 1968, with mixed emotions, I spent the rest of my life trying to pursue the American Dream, never forgetting the guys I left behind. I formed the 1150th Infantry Association, and so far, have been able to track down some 250 men from the original overseas Battalion. I continue looking each day for one more, and hope to find all living Veterans of our great Battalion before I, myself, become a statistic.

My experience with the 1/50th began in 21 September, 1967 to 8 June 1968, which is what you will read here. Allow me to introduce you to war!

It will soon be Christmas, 1999, and you just might meet that guy who was over there. Perhaps you already know him as your dad or husband. Although he may not talk much about his war, give him your respect, because he has earned it many times over. Maybe he strikes you as different. Maybe, just maybe, he did not have a choice.

It occurred to me that there are things that I should say, if for no other reason than for the record. I consider my experiences typical.

It was 1966, a time when a Greyhound bus left every week from our sleepy hometown, to fuel the buildup in Vietnam.

We were combat troops, a distinction meaning that although only one of every seven soldiers in Vietnam actually fought, we took virtually all the losses. On that comment, I would like to make it clear that I do not belittle the other six who served, otherwise known as Support Troops. There was no way we would have survived without the mechanic, cook, mail carriers, etc. They made a hellish climate as bearable as possible. We envied them in the sense they knew they would be going home when their time was up. On the other hand, we got used to the idea that we might not make it to the next day.

However, there are several major distinctions that make a Vietnam Vet different from other veterans. The men who were there know and fell those differences. But, virtually no one else does. The government spent thousands of dollars and countless hours trying to figure out why objects are left at the WALL! They want to know why so many, including myself, never experienced the closure that was such a part of other wars in which Americans fought and died.

Why are so many of us still wondering what the hell went wrong? Why do we view things differently from most people? Why are our opinions so radically different from people that did not serve in the Armed Forces?

First off, political climate. Sure, it was the tune in, turn on, drop out Sixties. But in reality, we were not all hippies! A large amount of us were regular people, just entering the work force, or in some cases, college. Trying to get our little piece of the American Dream.

Vietnam was a very faraway place. It was on the evening news every night, as the first televised war. You did not see carefully edited Movie-Tone News as happened during World War II. We saw body bags and napalm. We saw glowing accounts of how America was defeating the Communist plan for world domination.

As the group Queen later said: We were the champions, standing tall for all that was right and helping a poor under-fed country stave off the bad guys from the North. Americans were dying, but we were politically correct. After all, America was asked to come by the government of South Vietnam, knowing they could not do it alone.

It was the fall of 1966, and there were not enough of us dying to be a national issue. Thousands of All American teenagers were drafted. We were dealt with as cattle in every respect. The military de-humanizes new recruits toward a path of blind obedience. The official opinion was, there can be no individuals, or the system simply will not work. No independent thoughts or you will be second-guessing your Superior. Sounds really awful, huh? The fact is, it works.

Each new crop of new soldiers was the most God-awful mix of young people you ever saw: students, American Indians, ghetto blacks, artists; you name it. But, in several short months they act and function as a trained killing machine. After all, that is it, isn’t it? War is killing more of the other side so that the war ends, right?

This was where the dilemma started for Joe-average. One side of me said: Yeah, John Wayne, Mom, and apple pie. Let’s get it done like dad did in World War II. But another side says: Wait one minute young trooper, is it really okay to kill people you don’t even know or care about?"

Twenty-eight days on the Pacific. Then, disembarking in Vietnam. It is hot and it smells. I was there about fifteen minutes and saw a civilian use the main street as a toilet. The people just stared at us, as we stared back from a truck with prison bars on the windows.

We were the exception, coming by ship. The overwhelming majority flew there. But, eventually, it happens! Your best friend loses his leg on a booby trap; a lovely girl sells you an ice-cold coke with glass in it. Occasionally, you get into a stand-up fight, but mostly, you cannot find the enemy. Slowly, you lose one guy after the another, and you notice these people whose country you are trying to save, hate you for tearing up their rice crop. They won’t tell you where the enemy is, because the mass destruction of American firepower will destroy their village. Or, the Viet Cong will find out who helped us, and they will promptly kill or mutilate the entire family or even an entire village, if an Example must be set. You begin to hate the people, the country, and the war; just about everything.

You focus only on one thing; staying alive to get home! How can you fight those you cannot find? The frustrations mount as many of your friends die. The only good Gook is a dead Gook!

Christ, did we not say that about the Indians?

You have become the Vietnam Warrior: inhuman, unfeeling, ready to explode an old man’s head with a bullet the size of your fist, just because you think he knows where the enemy is hiding.

You are tired, hot, smelly, and even a cold shower would be a luxury. Many of us caught malaria, including a friend of mine, resulting in his drowning in a canvas bathtub filled with ice cubes and rubbing alcohol. The chills were so bad that he almost fell out of the helicopter on the way to the Hospital. They did not have any door gunner and he took over that position. Although he had become quite delirious, he recalls thinking he would rather die throwing hot lead at some enemy, than on a stretcher. Amazing how you can throw normal compassionate behavior away when you want. That evening they mortared the Hospital and he spent several hours under a cot where it was safe.

Compared to what? A cabin on the Titanic?

You start to question, as well as hate. We worked with the South Vietnamese Army on numerous occasions. They would wander around until they stumbled on some Viet Cong or North Vietnamese Army, (NVA,) soldier. Immediately they pulled back, waiting for us to take the fight to their enemy. I remember hauling our dead out on an Armored Personnel Carrier, (APC,) as they looked on, smiling, waving like a day at the beach. Where was their resolve, their commitment? Whose country was this anyway? The entire time I was there, I did not see any aggressive action from a South Vietnamese soldier or a civilian!

You start to question the wisdom of the whole thing. You are called to a nameless hill or village, full of bad guys. You call for air support and artillery, and they pound the place to oblivion for hours and sometimes days. Then you go in and still take heavy losses. Eventually you are victorious and the place is yours. You count your dead, and you count theirs if you can. Then, you pack up and move on. The place had no real importance of any kind.

Your nerves are shot as you watch the Huey, (slang for a helicopter,) take the body away of the guy you went to school with, or who saved your butt from a booby trap you did not see. Then you mount up and roll away. Now, that is Victory?

Mentally and physically, you deteriorate further. Basically, you are an unfeeling shell of a man, who just a short time ago, was only concerned about a good grade on an exam. You are lean, tan, meaner than cat shit, and you don’t care about anything except getting home alive!

Then one day your orders arrive. You get a warm bath, a checkup, a new uniform; and in less than a week, you are home with your family. You are carrying enough emotional baggage to kill, but you try so hard to fit in that it does not show.

I was home a few months and went to the movie where they played the National Anthem, as they once did. I stood up in my field jacket. I was the only one standing! I was booed! I thought of the guys that did not make it, fighting for the country for which that flag stood.

We were soldiers and we did what we were told to do. The American Army never lost a single major battle the entire time we were there; and that was to include some horrendous fights, such as Khe San and Hue. Today, the universal opinion is that we lost the war in Vietnam, even though from a military viewpoint, we kicked their ass every time they had the guts to take us on.

We returned to no parades, no thanks, not even a well done from anyone. Honestly, I did not expect it.

We came home, blended as best we could; bottling up all the questions, hate, and accountability for the friends that never made it, from that Godless death trap half a world away. The combat soldier, who returned in one piece, really did not. It’s just that most of the time it does not show, hidden away because it was burned into our memory that no one cared, and we realized that will never change.

If you meet a Vietnam combat veteran and he strikes you as being a little different, that is, because he really is. He has been through emotional hell that would make Stephen King faint. For a year of his life, he was forced to live at the most primitive kill or be killed level, and he survived the mental ordeal of never knowing if he would return alive.

To survive, he put many normal human feelings aside, and some of the men did not return, ever. He was cooked at 100 degrees for days, and endured weeks of unending rain, living in a mud hole for days, eating food that arrived whenever it could, with mail that was weeks old. He watched his best friend bleed to death, since the Medivac could not get in. This enemy did not recognize the Red Cross, as was the case with other wars.

He endured repeated nights of sheer terror as shadows danced in the jungle and twigs snapped from the unknown, out there beyond the wire.

On any given day, he may have gone a week without hot or even warm food. He drank the only safe water available, which tasted like a metal can filled with chemicals, because that is what it was. He may have spent an entire week in a sea of razor sharp grass, tall enough to hide the unknown, in a downpour that was so heavy it was more like a wet fog. He was shot at, tripped a booby trap, and jammed his M-16 three times. But, it was only a bad day, because his toilet paper got wet!

If he went to town, the question was what soft drink was poisoned and which nine-year-old child had twenty pounds of explosives under his shirt? He saw young girls so beautiful they took his breath away, then found out they smelled terrible due to constant diet of Nuk Maum, a crude fish sauce they put on everything. Most girls over twenty had bad teeth. That was the result of chewing the narcotic Betel Nut. So, he goes back to Base Camp, the only home that he had. If he is blessed, they will not mortar it that night. Perhaps he can find a lukewarm beer, although the smells of burning waste from the latrine always seemed to blow his way.

He brushes a half-inch of dust off his bunk, the result of endless truck convoys on the dirt roads. He gazes at his best friend’s bed, it’s owner now in a frozen metal container, winging eastward to a grief stricken family. Opening a rain soaked wallet, protected by a leaking plastic bag; he stares at a picture of his girlfriend, or his wife, at home. He thinks of the snow in his yard, and the smell of turkey and cookies. It is Christmas Day, 1967, in Vietnam.

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DANIEL J. SHERLOCK

Brigadier General, 509th Sq., USAF, (Ret.)

The 509th (of the 505th Tactical Wing) was equipped with the F-102 Delta Dagger interceptors and assigned to Da Nang Air Base, Vietnam. The Squadron provided close air support for the US Army and the Vietnam Army fighting in the Delta area, south of Saigon.

In 1960, the US Air Force Primary Pilot Training Program was conducted by civilian contractors at five civilian Air Bases, primarily in the southeastern part of the US. My first assignment was to Spence Air Base near Moultrie, Georgia, where we were introduced to the three phases of training: Academics, Simulator, and Flying. We started the class with over 70 students and, although the environment was certainly very friendly, you were always aware that the competition for the aircraft of your choice depended on your relative position at graduation, a year later. We started in the prop driven T-34 and quickly progressed to the jet powered T-37. I can remember my instructor, Mr. Thust, climbing out of the back seat of the T-34, engine still running, signifying I would solo, with the sage advice of, It’s your ass and Uncle Sam’s airplane. The training was challenging but rewarding and provided the solid foundation that would be required to progress to more complicated and higher performance aircraft. Training was conducted by the Hawthorne School of Aeronautics, and the President of the School was a man by the name of Beverly Bevo Howard. He was a world class Aerobatic Pilot, and as each class graduated, he would perform his award winning performance in his German Jungmeister Bi-Plane. His final pass was inverted, hands outside the open cockpit pointing at the runway, as he snatched a banner stretched across the runway with his landing gear. His inverted upper wing was no more than 25 feet above the runway! His performance verified that we were but mere fledglings in the world of aviation, and had much to learn. While visiting the Smithsonian, just a few years ago, I was pleasantly surprised to see that very airplane hanging upside down with the story of Bevo’s extraordinary talents.

Basic Pilot Training was conducted at several regular Military Air Force Bases, and I was assigned to Craig AFB, outside of Selma, Alabama. Once again it was academics, simulator and flying; this time in the T-33 jet aircraft, a converted F-80 Fighter Plane from the Korean War. The training lasted six months, and included more intricate maneuvering, as well as more formation and instrument flying. The competition for class standing became more challenging, the closer we came to graduation. There were 52 of us, and 52 assignments to various aircraft, some more desirable than others. The number one ranking pilot had his choice of any of the aircraft and, then the second man had his choice of the remaining aircraft, and so on. I was fortunate enough to be able to select an F-102 Fighter, nicknamed the Delta Dagger. Sage advice from my Basic flight instructor, Captain Montgomery, included if you can avoid it, don’t fly at night, don’t fly in the weather, and don’t fly with red switches.

USAF F-102 training was conducted at Perrin AFB, near Dennison, Texas where we had our fair share of night flying, and some heavy weather flying. But, for the most part, I was able to avoid the red switches. Instrument proficiency was a prerequisite, prior to flying the F-102, and we flew under the hood, in the rear seat of the T-33, for close to 30 hours. This included blind landings on instruments alone. The F-102 was the first supersonic fighter interceptor and it was a real joy to fly. Single seat. Single engine Fighters were part of the Century Series Fighters, and included the F-100, F-102, F-104, F-105, and the F-106. Training was close to six months, followed by an assignment to your first Operational Squadron.

In my case, it was the 482nd Fighter Interceptor Squadron at Seymour Johnson AFB, Goldsboro, North Carolina. This Squadron was somewhat unique in that we had a Detachment of six aircraft at Homestead AFB in Florida, in addition to the normal alert commitment at Seymour Johnson. Periodic rotations were routine. Routine that is, until the Cuban Missile Crisis in October, 1962. The entire Squadron was ordered to Homestead to fly Combat Air Patrol, (CAP,) missions around the clock. The B-52s and KC-135 Tankers were relocated from Homestead to make room for literally hundreds of Fighters from around the US. For a young Pilot, it was a great introduction to employing my training in a real world contingency. We remained at Homestead, flying our butts off, until the nuclear missiles and Ilyushin IL 28 Light Bombers had been withdrawn from Cuba. The blockade of Cuba was formally ended on November 20, 1962. Shortly thereafter, our Detachment at Homestead was moved to Naval Air Station in Key West, 90 miles closer to Cuba. A year later, on the afternoon of November 22nd, my Flight Commander and I were scrambled on five-minute alert, and directed to CAP, the area half way between Key West and Cuba, to monitor the airspace. When relieved by the two other Pilots on alert, we were quick turned, and set up on alert status again. It was after we landed, that we were told that President Kennedy was assassinated and our flights were a precautionary measure to preclude any reaction from Cuba. We resumed our normal alert commitment to intercept any unknown or unidentified aircraft entering the southern portion of the US. There were numerous middle of the night alerts, bad weather, and slow movers, that required some innovative maneuvering to get tail numbers, and, to direct the errant Pilot to land at a designated airfield. More good experience for a young Fighter Pilot.

In June of 1964, I was reassigned to the 509th Interceptor Squadron, based at Clark Air Base in the Philippines. Although recently married, I was not qualified to have my bride join me, since all housing was scarce and controlled by the Military.

The 509th Squadron was part of the 405th Tactical Fighter Wing, which was composed of an F-100 Squadron, our F-102 Squadron, and two B-57 Squadrons, that joined the Wing shortly thereafter. Col. Chuck Yeager, the first man to fly supersonic, was our Wing Commander.

In the early morning of the 5th of August, I was awakened by a phone call advising me to pack a small bag and report to the Alert Hangar. Our mission was to fly six of our F-102s to DaNang Air Base, South Vietnam, and establish an Alert Posture. Upon arrival, we joined an F-100 Squadron in their alert facility, and put our fighters on alert. Two on 5, two on 15, and two on 30-minute scramble status. The Gulf of Tonkin Incident, on the previous day, was the cause of our rapid deployment. Several days later we established our own alert facility at the end of the runway, consisting of several tents and hot-line communications with the Ground Control Intercept, (GO,) Organization. Daily Intelligence briefings kept us abreast of the North Vietnamese order of battle, and other American and South Vietnamese ground and air missions. Our Rules of Engagement, (ROE,) were written on two sheets of paper and fully reasonable.

Within a matter of weeks, we established additional alert commitments at Tan Son Nhut Air Base in Saigon, at Udorn Air Base in Thailand, and strengthened our already established alert at Don Muang, Thailand. Our primary mission remained Air Defense, although in 1965, we were tasked to assist the US and South Vietnamese Armies in the Delta area, south of Saigon in Close Air Support, (CAS,) Missions. Training for the CAS Missions consisted of a one hour briefing from an F-100 Weapons School Graduate instructor, and one flight in the dual seat TF-102, on the Crow Valley Range near Clark Air Base. Interesting, since we had never been exposed to the air to ground mission prior to this, but, we eventually became proficient working with the Forward Air Controllers, (FACs,) delivering 2.75 rockets on their designated targets. This eventually led to another air to ground mission, conducted at night, using the F-102 Infrared, (IR,) seeker, mounted above the Radome. Although the system was designed to be used for the air to air mission, it was capable of detecting heat sources on the ground, and employing heat seeking missiles against the specific target source. It was an expensive way to employ missiles, but it worked to the great satisfaction of the US and South Vietnamese ground forces.

Further north, at DaNang and at Udorn, our intercept mission was expanded to include Basic Fighter Maneuvers, (BFM,) for both offensive and defensive purposes. This type of potential mission was also new to us Intercept Pilots, and we again relied on our Tactical Air Command trained Pilots, from another Squadron, for our initial training. Although we trained whenever we could, we never reached the proficiency level required to realistically employ in close-in, visual, air to air combat.

All our detachments flew various combat and combat-support escort missions and intercepts, on a range of aircraft, both military and civilian. We flew few F-102 missions in North Vietnam, since the more specific air to ground and air to air tactically trained Pilots and aircraft such as the F-100, F-4, and F-105s were dedicated to those missions. During the next several years, there was a tremendous buildup of Air Force, Army, Marine and Naval forces throughout Southeast Asia. Both the number and intensity of ground and air missions would continue to escalate with a corresponding increase in deaths, injuries, and unknown numbers of Prisoners of War, (POWs,) and those Missing in Action, (MIAs.)

In 1967, I was reassigned to a Tactical Training Squadron at Davis Monthan AFB in Arizona. This assignment was a new beginning for me, since I was now a part of Tactical Air Command, and would learn a different set of mission objectives and procedures, while transitioning into the latest Air Force fighter, the F-4 Phantom. Transition training took four months, followed by an additional two months of Instructor Pilot Training. Our Wing Mission was to train Pilots who would replace F-4 Pilots, serving in Southeast Asia. Most of the students had non-fighter backgrounds, and their conversion training into the F-4 took close to six months. In some cases, it was a challenge to train a former Transport, Tanker, or Bomber Pilot into the F-4, and the various tactical missions. In addition to instructing in the F-4, there were a number of us who were dual qualified, and we also instructed in the AT-33, a re-converted T-33, that carried practice bombs, rockets, and had an internal 12.7 mm gun. Pilot graduates of this course would be assigned as Forward Air Controllers, (FACs,) in Southeast Asia. Overall, three years as a Flight Instructor was a busy, but rewarding, assignment.

Having been promoted to Major status, it was time for a staff tour at TAC Headquarters at Langley AFB, VA. I was fortunate that I could continue flying while serving as a Staff Officer, developing computerized flight plans and profiles for Squadron-sized deployments. Also, I was fortunate to be