April 2002

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“The Monthly Diamondhead”

Editor-Reporter-Chief Cook-Web Slave-

Reunion-Charleston, South Carolina April 12,13,14

Under threatening skies the Little Bear Association Reunion got underway at the Holiday Inn Mt. Pleasant on Friday April 12. For the Little Bears it would be their third reunion. For the Diamondhead's it would be their first ever since leaving Vietnam. Many old friends were being reunited after 30+ years, and as expected it was an emotionally charged weekend.

For me the emotional charge was one of frustration early on Thursday. When I arrived to find out that I no longer had a room. I had called the hotel on Monday to alter the reservation. Since my wife wasn't coming with me at the last minute due to business concerns with her job, Ed Mitchell and myself had arranged to split a room. I was told no problem. Aaah then the confusion began. Ed Mitchell did in deed have a room 209, so I was moved there. When Ed Mitchell showed up he was stashed in 504. Ed and I just scratched our head on that one and according to the Hotel, no problem we will just fix it tomorrow. At midnight Joe Finch's mother Julia showed up after flying from Tucson Arizona.. She was assigned to room 209 also. Lucky me, I now had a roommate. Well needless to say that was an inoperable solution. Joe Finch came down to spend the night with me and sent his mother Julia to stay with his wife. I smoke, he don't, so Joe moved up to 504 and moved in with Ed Mitchell. The next morning all was made right, Ed Mitchell wound up back in 209 with me, that was the easiest move since the Airlines had lost his luggage. Joe wound up back with his wife, and Julia had her own room. Aaaah but this is not the end of it. Since Ed Mitchell had a room, according to the hotel. I didn't exist so I had three packages returned to sender that had been fed Ex'd in. A package from Ed Beneda that contained a tape he had made up to support the Web page, a box from the Vietnam Helicopter Crew Members Association, which contained many News Letters and application forms. They are the organization that assisted me in finding almost all of the Diamondhead's, and box number three we have yet figured out what it was, or where it came from.

The festivities started almost immediately with the Friday parade at the Citadel where we were one of the guests of honor. It was to be the parade we never got when we came home from Vietnam. Everyone I talked to said it was great and had a good time.

The rest of the day was spent registering, signing in, sight seeing around the beautiful historical city of Charleston, and frequenting the hospitality room, which had been well stocked with our favorite beverages and snacks. As the refreshments were consumed them old war stories got better and better as the night went along. The old camaraderie was evident everywhere you looked. Certain things money can't buy, and this was one of them. It was as though we had been transformed back in time to our youthful days just if but for a few hours. To me this alone had made all the hard work of Ercie Leach, Glen Feilke, myself, and innumerable other people all worthwhile.

Joe Finch, author of “Angels Wing”, a book about his adventures with the Little Bears was around for the duration of the reunion signing books. It covers his true-life events during his tour 69-70. Some are funny, and some are quite serious. It reads well and is on my recommended reading list. If you were there you will understand the stories. If you failed to get your copy, “Angels Wing” can be purchased from Joe Finch directly, or through the Web Site on the PX page.

Saturday began as a gloomy day, a low overcast with threatening thunderstorms just north of Charleston. It threatened to ruin what would be one of the most important events of the weekend, the reuniting of an old Huey helicopter 65-0961 to the group of Diamondhead's in attendance that had once flew her, or crewed her in Vietnam.

That old bird had been a lifesaver to many grunts on the ground, as she had been the “Angel of Mercy” that hauled them to the hospital and assured they would live to fight another day. She laid down the smoke barrier to screen them from the enemy on combat assaults, she lit up the skies at night in her sampan hunting adventures, and yes she was a Nighthawk who hunted down and killed those very grunts tormentors. There had been innumerable medals earned with this old war bird. She was a true hero, just as was her crews and pilots. For the weather to ruin this reunion of man and machine would have been sacrilegious.

After several calls from Anderson S.C. by her pilot, Steve Lindley to update us on weather conditions, the ceiling was 200 feet, and not safe, despair was evident throughout the crowd. We all crossed our fingers the weather would lift and this event would occur .At 1 pm we finally got the call; she was refueling in Aiken S.C. 80 miles away and would arrive in about an hour. The smiles were everywhere. None could have been more glowing than the one on Poncho Salazar's face, her old crewchief. I thought his face would bust wide open in joy.

In the distance you could hear the oh so familiar Wop-Wop-Wop of the rotor blades that only a Huey can make, faintly at first then louder and louder as she approached LZ vacant lot behind the Holiday Inn. After she landed her old pilots and crew mobbed her. They inspected every square inch of her searching out old bullet holes, shrapnel damage, and all the other scars of honor she so rightfully had earned. With all the cameras in attendance this will have to easily be the most photographed helicopter of all time.

961 in LZ Vacant Lot behind Holiday Inn

After the many thank you's were said to the pilot Steve Lindley, and her Crewchief Kevin Matheson, and the other crew members and Search and Rescue Squad. I presented them each with a new Diamondhead patch as a token of our gratitude. Poncho Salazar threw in his old boonie hat complete with wings and 25th division pin to be part of her forever. According to Steve Lindley wherever 961 should fly, Poncho's hat will always be there too.

Ex Little Bear first Sergeant Orlando Davisson passed the hat around and we contributed to the pilots and crews going to lunch, which they appreciated. It also kept it off the county credit card incase they should want to do this again.

Upon their return from lunch the crews and one lucky pilot Bob Seger was treated to an unexpected treat, a ride in this old Huey. It would probably be our last in this lifetime. To read more about it see the stories below, “The Last Ride”, by Ron Leonard, and “Blast From The Past” by Bob Seger. This will prove to be one of our most cherished remembrances from this reunion, and from the “Helicopter War” in Vietnam.

Earlier in the day, as we were waiting for the weather to clear, Sarah Blum a 12th Evac nurse who had been sponsored and sent all expenses paid by Kermit Schayltz a former Wolfhound, and the manager of the Lucky Derby Casino in Sacramento California, as his way of saying thank you to the nurses of the war in Vietnam. Sarah had brought with her a slide show she presented of the OR unit at the 12th Evacuation Hospital in Cu Chi Vietnam. It was well attended by both veterans, and veterans wives and children. It showed what the nurses had to endure day in and day out to help support the grunts, and all other military personnel in their quest to save lives. It was a little gruesome at times, but then there is nothing pretty about war anyway. It gave the viewers that up close and personal view of what we as soldiers, and the nurses and doctors had to endure day in and day out as we strived to win the war in Vietnam.

Sarah closed her portion of the festivities with a poetry reading, one of which is very touching and is presented below “We Did It For You”, by Sarah Blum.

Later in the day around the Holiday Inn pool a business meeting took place. During the informal meeting several things were discussed:

The Diamondheads were invited to join the Little Bear Association, which was accepted and facilitated a name change to the Little Bear, Diamondhead, Clipper Association. The name of the web page would remain the same 25th Aviation Battalion.

The new officers were elected for two years:

President: Orlando Davisson

Vice President: Gary Paris

Secretary: Harold Dye

Treasurer: Ernie Newton

Chaplain: Charlie Kendall

Historian: Joe Finch

Webmaster: Ron Leonard-by default<G>

3. The Frequency of the reunion was voted on and again it was biannually. The next reunion will

be held in April or May 2004 at Killeen, Texas home of Ft. Hood.

4. The Diamondheads would be assessed a one time membership fee of 25 dollars to join the

association just as the Little Bears have been. If you attended the reunion and are a

Diamondhead or Headquarters person it would only be an additional 15 dollars since we were

accessed 10 dollars this time.

There was discussed the creating a 501 (c) tax-exempt status for the association, and Joe Finch is doing the work on that.

Funding for the web page, it's associated equipment upgrades, research, and finding of new people will be left the same as it was for the next two years. It will rely on donations, and the sale of a few select items through the site PX.

Saturday night's main attraction was the “Reunion Banquet”. The Reunion Banquet was attended

by 171 people, sixty-two Little Bears, thirty-one Diamondhead's, and one HHQ person with many family members, wives and friends also in attendance. The complete list follows

Little Bears- Jim Anderson, Peter Barrett,Edward Benada, Hubert "Hugh" Bell, Edmund Bookman, Ben Brint, Donald Burson, Victor Buttner, Andrew Carr, Dean Carte, Hector Castro, Norman Clark, Edwin Cowherd, Ben Crabtree, Orlando Davisson, Jim Dayton, Howard Deane, Ernest Decoito, Fred Dickens, Bill Dooly, Michael Drennon, Harold Dye, Garrett Easley, Ernest Elliott, Jim Evans, Glenn Feilke, Joe Finch, George Foster, Ira Hartwell, Richard Healey, Ray Huntington, Jon Jensen, Larry Johnson, Randy Juge, Denis Jungblut, Pat Lawlor, Ercie Leach, Don Lish, Ralph Mace, Jay Marion, Gary Meagher, Ron Mecum, Charles Mitchell, Roberto Molinary, Jan Moore, Carl Muckle, Earnest Newton, Garry Paris, Joseph Reale, Tony Rentz, Donald Rodgers, Charles Slimowicz, Alan Smith, Paul Smith, Walter Stewart, Donald Townsend, Jim Watts, Hughey Weston, Charlie Brown, Joe Byrd, Bob Gantt.

Diamondhead's- William Connell, Gregory Bucy, Donald Nelson, Phillip Frager, Charles Gant, Edward Schenk, Gary Tompkins, George Heneveld, Bert Rice, Daniel Driscoll, Charles Burnett, David Stock, Gonzalo Salazar, James Remmel, Joel Price, George Pendleton, Matthew McLynn, David Henard, Richard Eicher, Charles Moore, Jack Mosley, Ron Leonard, Robert Segers, Stuart Gerald, David Jacobs, Ron White, Bill Banner, Robert Michaels, Steve Thorpe, Cecil Combs and Bill Baxley(Friday Evening only).

Headquarters-Tom Phillips

Others- Michelle Comerford ( Spook Grundman's Daughter), Sarah Blum(12th Evac nurse), Jim Hartford(Honorary Little Bear)

The meal was of buffet style with prime rib, roast turkey, and just about anything else you could think of. It was very good, and was accompanied by a cash bar and a DJ . Ercie Leach had made arrangements for one of the local basket weavers to make a little reed basket for everyone to take home as a memento of their visit to Charleston. They were very well received. Someone rescued mine with a 12th Evac pin in it while I was summoned to clean out the Hospitality room. Could you please un rescue it and advise me who has it.<G>

Charlie Brown, the third Little Bear Commander gave a heart wrenching speech directed to the audience about our fallen brothers, and to the wives of those who had survived in Vietnam. He displaced the negative images of the Vietnam vet beautifully. “Take a look around you, these men, these heroes, through so much adversity are true heroes, these are the men you are married to”, or words to that end.

Ercie Leach read a speech given at the "Vietnam Wall" by Joe Galloway about Army Aviators in Vietnam that created emotions that had been held back for years and drew tears from Ercie and most all present.

The following former commanders gave short addresses . Ernest Elliott, the first Little Bear Commander, Hughey Weston, the second Little Bear Commander, Hughey also Presented Certificates of Appreciation to the Officers responsible for the reunion, Ray Huntington, the second Diamondhead Commander and Bert Rice, who was a former Diamondhead Commander. Michelle Comerford spoke about her father, "Spook" Grundman and thanked everyone for making the reunion memorable for her. Jim Hartford, from the Fulton County Flying Club, Canton, Illinois, spoke about the aircraft Little Bear 65-9819 which was installed in a park in Canton. Jim Dayton, Secretary of the Little Bear Association presented a Framed Certificate of Appreciation to Ron Leonard for the tremendous job he is doing with the 25th Aviation Battalion Web Site. Following all the short speeches a History of the 25th Aviation Battalion was presented by Joe Finch and Ron Leonard.

Joe Finch the unit Historian gave an oral history of the Little Bears and 25th Aviation Battalion. This covered the inception of the unit, until it stood down in 1970. This was accompanied by a written version we had produced. I still have afew copies of the written version if anyone is interested in obtaining one please contact me by e-mail or phone.

For many of our members who were not computer literate, and for those of us that really had no idea just how much information was actually contained within our web page or how to get around in it. I gave about a 30 minute lesson on how to use it, and how to navigate through it's 12,000 pages. Joe had rented an image projector so we could broadcast it to the Screen set up nearly wall height. Greg Bucy was kind enough to do the navigation for me as I explained the many features contained within the page itself.

Sunday morning brought us the “Memorial Service” on the USS York Town. A decommissioned aircraft carrier moored at Patriots Point just a short distance from the hotel.

It was a touching tribute to our fallen brothers who died in Vietnam, and to those who had died since returning. Jay Marion, a minister from New Hampshire and Little Bear was substituting for unit chaplain Charlie Kendall who had a death in the family and couldn't attend. Jay did a masterful job of organizing and presenting a very moving message. A message of learning from our Vietnam experiences, growing from them, forgiving, healing, and letting our lives go forward masterfully sums up why many of us traveled many miles to be together in Charleston.

We had lost 60 people in Vietnam to being Killed In Action. We have lost 30 more since we returned home. Each name was printed on an index card and given to an individual to recite. As the name was read, the ships bell was tolled. First those that were lost in Vietnam, then those that were lost at home. It was an emotional almost religious experience. On several occasions a crewmember of the person had drawn a friends card and emotion would not allow them to read it. It had to be read by someone else.

Jay Marion Giving The Memorial Sermon

After the Service many people began their journey home, and some of us waited around until Monday. I was one of those that waited. I wanted to see Robert Hayne Moore, one of the pilots I spent many hours flying with in Vietnam. I had earned two DFC's with him and wanted to say hi, thank you, get well. He is suffering from Multiple Sclerosis and is confined to a nursing home in Summerville S.C, just 10 miles from the reunion. He couldn't attend, so Bert Rice, myself, Chuck Moore, Greg Bucy, and Bob Seger at different times took the reunion to him. In a small way we maybe made a difference for him. I know it made one for me.

I was presented an award a “Certificate of Achievement” for my efforts on the web page. I want to thank all of you for that. You are the reason I did it. I got caught flat-footed with the award, so I had no prepared speech. I could only think of one or two people that helped me on a day-to-day basis. That was Julia Finch and Dorothy Cook for their untiring and unselfish efforts and thousands of pages of documents they retyped for me.

I owe many more. When in the beginning I ran out of computer, and money to continue. Many of you stepped in and contributed unselfishly so the project could continue. Jim Dayton heads this list. To all of you I owe a debt of gratitude. Without you I couldn't do the job I have done, touched the people I have somehow been able to touch, nor bring many of us together again.

Someone said to me many months ago. “You can do what you want, but you can't quit”. He was right. Watching the people I was able to find, and to watch the camaraderie was enough. It made it all worthwhile. To watch the smiles when 961 flew in that was enough. To watch Michelle Grundman as she made the etching of her father at The Wall in DC just after the reunion, that was enough. To read the letters you have sent me since the reunion, that to was enough. It has been a real privilege to help you all reach whatever it is your reaching for, as it varies from person to person. I hope I am here to help out for a long , long time.

I just wanted to thank you again for all of the hard work that you did for the reunion. Bobby and I had a great time. This was the best thing that could have happened for Bobby. He does not talk about the war very much, and when he did we could not relate. He was very worried about what to expect, but was very pleased with the way things came off. He is already talking about Texas in 2 years ( and disappointed that it will be that long) And the helicopter was a great surprise. It brought tears to Bobby's eyes. The memories came flooding back. The letter you wrote about the last ride was especially touching. We have several photos, and I had doubles if you want any, I will be glad to send them to you, along with the copies of the Tropic Lightening News that we forgot to give you. A simple thank you does not do justice for what you have done for all of these men. You deserve a lot of credit for starting the healing process for allot of guys. Thanks.

Katie Phillips here to let you know that the reunion was an unforgettable experience for all of us (Tom, Mary Kate and me). The most moving, emotion filled event of the weekend for me was, of course, the Memorial Service conducted on the USS Yorktown. Emotions stirred through everyone (vets and family) when the bell tolled after each lost soldiers name was read. The words spoken at the service of the Vietnam experiences, growing from them, forgiving and moving on captured the whole essence of why we all came so far to be together. I personally am very grateful to have met such great people and hope we can keep in touch on a personal level and through your fantastic website. See you in Texas!!!!

There is one thing that Sandra and I would like to mention concerning the reunion. While I have spoken about some of the things that happened to me in Nam and she has supported me in so many ways these last 32 years... this is the first time that she spent with a large group of us who were "over there." In no way, at any time did she feel anything but total acceptance by every man there. There were then and still are so many comments she has made that each and every man there made her feel like she was a "sister" and an integral part of the unit that she is eagerly anticipating the next reunion in two years.

My thanks to everyone who attended for making this reunion such a blessing to this family. If any of you get "up" this way to NH please feel free to "barge in" at any time and stay awhile.

Once again.. thanks...

Your servants in Christ Jesus,

My input: It was a lot of work, but, worth all the effort just to see all of the great folks from my past. I won't miss the next one if I have to "Waltz Across Texas with You".

I just want to say Thank You for what you did for all of us. If I never attend another reunion.I will not be disappointed or feel cheated.It was meant to be. 961 was the topper,what memories it

brought back,some good some not so good. I,like you,some times wonder why we survied and others did not.

About Charleston, Steve,Bob, and myself was sitting outside the hotel Friday afternoon and was approached by serveral people who acutally reached out to shake hands and say thank you. That really pulled at my heart strings. There was one guy that said he was 3 years old in 1968. He had a better understanding of Viet-Nam than most older folks did during the time!

Again Ron Thank You. I salute You brother!

It's me, Kevin Matheson, the crew chief! I just read the letter you wrote about "The Last Ride". Steve forwarded it to me as he has all your letters since our trip. I can honestly say,you broke a grown man into tears with that one. You and the Diamondhead's have no idea how honored I was to be a part of a reunion where there were so many heroes, interested in a bird in which I have fallen in love with.I want to personally thank you and all of the Diamondhead's for your service in Vietnam. I try to make it a point of shaking hands and voicing my gratitude every time I meet a veteran. Your service wasn't appreciated upon your return to our country like it should have been and I can't imagine anything that could take that pain away . . . but I want you to know that

there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about the sacrifices that were made in Vietnam. I, along with my crew, are very thankful that we could assist in a small part to help bring some closure to you and your brothers. Steve and I have already started our discussion on which flight suit should get the patch. We have decided to place Poncho's hat in the Huey so that we can take the Diamondheads with us on any mission that 961 flies. If there's anything in the world I can help you or any of the Diamondheads with, don't hesitate to call. I am currently a Detective with our agency, but I'm hanging in there to be with 961 on a full time basis, until then, I'll continue to fly on my on time every chance I get.

Ron, you sure have a way with words...this brought chills up my spine. I am so glad that we could do this for you guys. You guys are the greatest!

Sorry I missed your call today, we were off in Columbia for another reunion, the Doolittle Raiders. Another time and another place, but once again....another connection for me with true heroes such as yourself.

Thank you so much for always sharing Little Bear info with us. My darlin' Bill Buford passed away April 15, 2002. He really wanted to make the reunion but just got too sick too quickly even though he fought the cancer ferociously. Please pass the word to the other Little Bears that they've lost another one of their own. He was proud to be a part of you. (William C. Buford)

For those of you who couldn't make this reunion, or want more the VHCMA reunion is June 19-23 in Phoenix Arizona. I went to their's last year and it was excellent. There will be people from all units represented and since many of you did more than one tour, you will have friends from previous or later units.

Next year the VHCMA is in Atlanta Ga. The Army Aviation Heritage Foundation is putting on one of their air shows for us there. It makes a perfect viable alternative to a once a year get together if you want to.

If you liked this one old Huey this year, when the AAHF shows up they bring the whole Army Air Corps, Caribous, Bird Dogs, Cobra's, Hueys, OH-6's. They have air assaults, recon and medivac demonstrations check out their web page. http://www.armyav.org/

We Did It All For You

In remembrance of so many of us, nurses, and what we experienced.

Dedicated to so many of you, soldiers of an unwanted war.

We heard about you on the radio,

We saw you on the TV.

We knew you were hurting so,

We went to the Nam Country.

We took you as you came,

We felt the mud and dirt.

We knew we would go insane,

We knew we couldn¹t stop the hurt.

We tore off your fatigues and boots,

We searched your parts and your holes.

We saw your limbs torn off like roots,

We suffered with you, for all our souls.

We stood for hours in your lost blood.

We screamed inside at those awful sights.

We cursed and raged and slid in the mud.

We knew the results of your frustrated fights.

We held your hand and said to hang in,

We prayed in silence for your sweet life.

We know full well our country¹s sin,

We hoped in vain for an end to the strife.

We went to be with you and help you too,

We weren¹t prepared and neither were you.

We couldn¹t believe what we all went through,

We worked to heal but who ever knew?

We pumped the blood and helped you sleep.

We changed your dressings and cut the pain.

We turned you over and scrubbed your feet.

We talked and listened and went insane.

We couldn¹t cry or we couldn¹t work,

We tried to be calm to do our job.

We never knew where the enemy lurked,

We daren¹t let out, even one sob.

We sorted you one from another,

We chose - if you live or die.

We struggled so much for you our brother,

We knew in our hearts we needed to cry.

We were there inside the operating room.

We cleaned your wounds, we put you to sleep.

We cut and sawed from noon til noon.

We swallowed and choked and sighed so deep.

We saw you at your very best, proud and smart.

We saw you at your worst, torn and wounded,

We held your maimed and mangled parts,

We lifted, pulled, pushed and turned your head.

We yelled for supplies that we didn¹t have,

We cringed when we read the media lies.

We held our breath as we applied the salve,

We wondered when America would open her eyes.

We hated the mud and rain and dust.

We hated the protests and lack of support.

We drank and danced and how we cussed.

We hoped and prayed for the war to be "short".

We wondered how you did perceive us,

We worried how well we were really doing.

We came to help, to heal and not to fuss.

We couldn¹t control the ugly war we were veiwing.

We felt angry, enraged, sad and sick inside.

We wanted to protect you from anything more.

We didn¹t understand and we wanted to hide.

We couldn¹t leave you, we were all in a war.

We were frustrated and mad at all the news.

We hoped in vain for the telling of the truth.

We found some solace in beer and Œmoody blues¹,

We took pictures of war to record the truth.

We didn¹t all make it, and neither did you.

We became numbers, counts and stats!

We were killed and lost, and wondered who knew?

We were people but were counted like rats!

We came home in the dark, broken or boxed.

We were the shame of this Country we served.

We were attacked or shunned like we were poxed,

We whores and dykes, names so undeserved.

We loved America and you dear sweet brothers,

We were nurses true blue and oh so few.

We cared, we suffered Nam sisters and brothers,

We want you to know we did it all for you!

Written by Sarah Leah Blum May 1984

Operating Room Nurse

12th Evacuation Hospital

Cu Chi, Vietnam, 1967

We were attending a reunion of the 25th Aviation Battalion, the Little Bears and the Diamondheads. A very special visitor to the reunion was a Vietnam era helicopter and it was scheduled to arrive at the hotel in the early Saturday afternoon. CWO Greg Bucy, CWO Chuck Moore, and I decided to visit CWO Hayne Moore prior to its arrival.

As we were just returning from visiting CWO Moore, the old war bird approached the hotel. All three of us heard the unmistakable sound that only a Huey could make. My heart quickened at the sound and it took only a few seconds to spot it in the sky. I was so excited, I drove my vehicle behind the hotel and parked nearby. There she was, a magnificent beauty to behold, not just because she was a former Diamondhead Huey, but because she was a remembrance of the Helicopter War, fought so long ago. She had new Sheriff markings, but her lines were unmistakable. This trustworthy steed, which had flown so many combat missions, now flew with the Anderson County Sheriff's Office. It was unbelievable to see our old Huey still performing such honorable service after all these years

As the rotor blades came to a stop, she was surrounded by former pilots, crew chiefs, and door gunners. It was a very special moment for everyone. Here was a symbol of our youth and military service. Never has a helicopter had so many pictures taken of her so quickly. Naturally, I had my picture taken in both front seats.

For me, there were many memories, some good and some not so good. I flew this very helicopter on October 4, 1968 on a sniffer mission. During the mission, a Cobra crashed and this venerable chopper rescued both crewmen, one of whom, CWO Chuck Moore, the aircraft commander, was in attendance at the reunion. CWO Moore expected to die that day and instead has always believed he had been given a new lease of life that day and lived it to the fullest. He went on to become a Naval aviator and flew F-4 Phantom jets off aircraft carriers. Later he flew for a commercial airline before retiring. The other pilot, WO George Conger still flies helicopters in Saudi Arabia for an oil company.

Unbeknown to all but webmaster Ron Leonard, a lucky pilot would be selected to fly again, as well as four former crew chiefs and door gunners. Former crew chiefs, Ron Leonard & Poncho Salazar, and door gunners Jack Mosley & Charlie Burnett were honored to fly once again. While the Sheriff's crew was at lunch, a decision was made as to which pilot would fly once again. When the crew returned from lunch, I was discussing flight helmets with a crew member and remarked I still had mine from Vietnam. He said he go get it. I complied and upon return I was informed my helmet would not work properly, as I could hear but due to impedance mismatch in the microphone, I could not talk. (Some might say “So what is the problem?) That is when I was told by the co-pilot, “You can use mine”. I did not understand until he said, “you get to fly this mission”. Immediately, my pulse shot off the scale as the adrenaline was coursing through my veins. I was so excited I was actually going up again in a helicopter I had flown so many times.

I quickly climbed in and all the other former crew members had already staked out their seats. As I buckled myself in, I scanned the instrument panel, and it looked almost like it did 33 years ago. A crowd was gathered around and I was thrilled I was the one to fly once again. Soon the familiar whine of the engine starting was followed by the rotor blades quickly slicing through the air. I could not tell what was going faster, my heart or the rotor blades. Soon all gauges were in the green and the collective was pulled up and the unmistakable feeling of departing the ground began. Soon we were airborne and whisking through the sky. I was experiencing feelings I had not felt in over 30 years.

The pilot asked if I wanted to fly her. I mean no disrespect, but that was the dumbest question I had ever been asked. Shortly after assuming control, he remarked, “It didn't take but two seconds for everything to come back, did it?” Hell, it took less than that. Some things one never forgets, and this most assuredly was one of them. It was if I had never left the cockpit. I turned and looked over my shoulder and saw 961's former crew chief, Poncho Salazar with the biggest grin on his face. Like me, he was transformed into a kid again. It was if Poncho had never left this helicopter, as on landing, he was seen hanging on with one arm while standing outside the chopper on the skids.

We were old in experience but very young of heart. Our faces may have been weathered and wrinkled, but the broad grins on our faces removed any vestiges of age and our wrinkles vanished. Once again, even if only for a few exhilarating minutes, we were a band of brothers transported back in time to a place far away. Our memories were refreshed to our deeds accomplished so many years ago.

As we landed a large crowd was there to greet us. We exited our old war bird with our spirits soaring higher than we ever flew that day. Even if only for a short time, we five were reborn after receiving our 15 minutes of fame.

As she flew off, we five stood at attention and saluted as she flew and disappeared from sight but not our memories. It was an experience all five us will never forget and will forever cherish. I will always maintain a mental picture of this last flight in my mind until I die. Our flight was best summed up best by door gunner Charlie Burnett, when he exclaimed, “Now I can die”. None of us could have expressed our feeling any more appropriate than that.

For days the anticipation of the reunion of B. Company 25th Aviation Battalion had been running through my head. It would be the first time many of us had seen each other in 33+ years in Cu Chi Vietnam. It would prove to be an emotional experience. One of healing, long lost camaraderie, and laughter, a weekend to remember for a lifetime.

I had worked many thousands of hours to make this happen. The men of Diamondhead were brothers like no other I had met in my life. I needed to find them, to say goodbye before I was gone back to some pile of ashes perched on a shelf somewhere without ever having had the chance.

We had fought a valiant war for an unappreciative America. We had risked our lives for each other, some of us nearly loosing it. Maybe these upcoming few days were why I was spared. On Oct 4, 1968 I should have died in a mid-air collision but for some reason was spared. Maybe this was why.

I took it upon myself to give us what we were cheated out of, to somehow make it right for us if only for a weekend. I spent more than a year locating first one member then another until I had found about 250. We needed a reunion to help heal those wounds we had inside, the ones you can't see. The ones embedded in your soul. The ones you dream about and wake up sweating and screaming with. The ones you have no one to talk to about that really understands. Only the camaraderie of Diamondhead could do that. We were a “Band Of Brothers”, and I would just have to band them together again one last time. Maybe none of them would understand the importance of being with each other one more time until it was over, but they would in the end understand.

We got no damn Parade when we came home, only jeers and abuse. I would give us the parade we needed, Our Parade, the one we never got when we came home. We deserved it. With the help of Paul Pelland, a Charleston resident and former Vietnam helicopter pilot, the details were worked out with the Citadel in Charleston S.C. We would be the guests of honor or at least one of the guests of honor at their traditional Friday parade on April 12. That was accomplished and everyone appreciated it. I saw the smiles. I saw hardened veterans starting to soften and become if just for a little while the youth they once were. To me those memories will always be priceless. Those mental images themselves had been worth all the effort to make it happen

I needed something else. I needed a helicopter. The common bond we all had of the “Helicopter War” fought in a far away place called Vietnam. It would be the glue that stuck the event together. It would be the catalyst of the re bonding that would occur.

I knew of a Diamondhead OH-6 that was being restored in Calif. I contacted the owners, and it wouldn't be ready in time, maybe for Reunion Phase II in Phoenix in June, so I would just have to settle for any old Huey. I guess that would be better than no helicopter at all.

Out of the blue about six months ago Steve Lindley a sergeant with the Anderson County Sheriffs Department contacted me and wanted to know if he could bring one of our old ships to the reunion. I nearly had a heart attack. My prayers had been answered. It was not just any Huey, it was 961 an old bird we all had intimate knowledge of. It was our old Smoke Ship. Innumerable medals had been earned in that ship. It still had the bullet holes of honor and battle scars it acquired with us in Vietnam. It had rescued LRRP teams from certain death, it had medi-vaced dying soldiers to the 12th Evacuation Hospital who otherwise wouldn't have survived, and it had rescued downed pilots and crews. Yes, she was a hero herself. She had but one more Diamondhead mission to accomplish, “Our Last Ride”, the ride that would make us whole again, the ride that would bring one chapter in our life to an end.

As Saturday morning arrived, the weather was clearing in Charleston S.C. but there was a 200-foot ceiling in Greenville S.C. 961's departure had been delayed. God could not let this happen. This final chapter had to be played out in its entirety. It could not end like our war in Vietnam half done. Finally at 1 P.M. the call came on the cell phone the weather had cleared, and they were inbound and would arrive in an hour. As time ticked away the anticipation grew.

I had for months kept a secret. I had told them the aircraft was flying in, but I had failed to tell them the old crewmembers, they would get to go flying. In case something went wrong I didn't want myself, or the crewmembers to bear the disappointment of it not happening.

In the distance we could hear that all familiar Wop,Wop, Wop that only a Huey makes. It brought cold chills up my spine. Very faintly at first but as she got closer the crescendo got louder and louder until it rattled the windows of the hotel as she settled to the grass in the vacant lot behind the Holiday Inn. As I surveyed the crowd I found Jack Mosley, and Poncho Salazar hugging each other and so many smiles you couldn't count them all. I too was smiling; my little plan was coming together and I still had the secret they didn't know safely secured in my head.

As her engine shut down, and as her blades whistled in the afternoon breeze slowly coming to a stop, her old pilots and crewmembers mobbed her. Climbing on her like it was yesterday to check out all the bullet holes and scars of honor she had earned so long ago. Poncho Salazar her old crewchief, and Jack Mosley her old gunner climbing up in the gunners wells which had been home so many years ago. Charlie Burnett once her gunner was also checking out the intimate portions of the old girl he knew. I got out the camera to capture those personal memories forever.

We had five pilots on hand that had flown this old bird on many combat missions and they to took their places in the pilot's seats and that last picture. It was beautiful and brought back oh so many memories from that distant land we all knew so well.

While everyone was taking pictures and reminiscing the past adventures of this old bird I walked over to Steve Lindley and thanked him for bringing her and presented him and the crew that flew her to Charleston with a Diamondhead patch. That would link the past with the future. Wherever they would go something of us would be with them. We discussed “The Last Ride”, which was verified and would occur. Still the secret of what would soon occur was secure in my head.

Ex First Sergeant Davison took up a collection and we sent the Sheriffs Department off to lunch in style.

Upon their return from lunch Sgt Lindley pointed at Jack Mosley, Poncho Salazar, Chuck Burnett, and myself to get in the back where we quickly staked out our favorite spots. Bob Segers was assigned the left seat. With everyone buckled in but me, the seat belt was refusing to work I don't care how far I sucked in my not so skinny old gut. Pancho was sitting in the floor with his feet dangling out the right side, Chuck Burnett in the passenger seat next to the door, Jack Mosley in the gunners well on the left side, and myself still struggling with the seat belt in the right side gunners well.

Sgt Lindley hit the starter switch and the old girl responded immediately. The whine of the starter generators kicking in, the tic-tic-tic of the igniters searching for fuel, the whoosh of ignition, the blades slowly starting to spin searching for 6000 RPM, the singing of the blades as they cut through the afternoon air. The smell of burnt JP-4

It brought back the memories of those late night missions so long ago. I remembered the good times and the bad times. In my mind I could still here the pilots of yester year “Cu Chi tower, Cu Chi tower, this is Diamondhead 961 on the Beach, scramble”, and the towers reply “Roger Diamondhead, your clear south on the active”, and then the beeping of the engine up to 6600 RPM as the blades beat the air into submission. Yes those were the times.

We lifted off and could feel the lightness on the skids, which put a huge smile on my face. Poncho's and my eyes met, nothing but smiles no words were necessary. Sgt Lindley brought her up to a 20-foot hover tipped the nose over and we were off quickly we were up to 800 feet and turned right up the river. Below I could make out a yacht, if it were only a Sampan it would have been heaven. It seemed a little odd to not have an M-60 in the mount in front of me, but that was OK. In my old age I would probably hurt myself with one. We swung out over the trees and dropped it down and buzzed along just off their tops and I caught myself looking for bunkers and spider holes. Such memories.

Over the Intercom I heard Sgt. Lindley ask Bob Segers if he wanted to fly her. I agree with Bob, that was the dumbest question of all time. In about two seconds Bob was right at home, just like he had done so many times before. We flew on for 5 or 10 minutes. We encountered a little turbulence and the blades popped as it clawed at the air. It was like music to my ears. Soon we were headed back to the LZ but Bob just had to do something fun, no straight in approach no sir, not today. A tight 360 over the Hampton Inn across the street at 500 feet almost standing her on her side was the call of the hour. That brought a group cheer from all of us in the back. I swear that lady in the swimming pool flashed us with her bathing suit top. I lobbied for a go around to make sure but was over ruled. I had flashed back to the old plantation out of Dau Tieng and the French lady we would sneak up on in the pool there occasionally. Yeah, those were the times.

It had been fifteen minutes of heaven. Fifteen minutes that would put to rest a lifetime of pain and a closing of a chapter in our life. It was also the beginning of a new era, a new chapter in our lives of new friendships, and continuations of old ones, that hopefully would grow and continue on far into the future. It had been “The Last Ride”, but what a ride.

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers,

For he today that sheds his blood with me, Shall be my brother."

-Wm Shakespeare-

Well guys Until next month..keep a smile on your face and your skids out of the TreesJ--Ron