Snubby in Vietnam

Hoping for a better year for all of us, and our Country

The past near two years have been a trial for all of us. Now, not like it was early in WWII, nor in the desperate years of the Depression, or in other challenging times, but still, with the Covid and other social upheavals, it has been a rough year.

Sitting here, smoking some ribs on the grill my wife just got me for Christmas, soon off to church for a late service, I was just reflecting on how I hope the coming year is "better" , whatever that might mean for each of us, and for this troubled Country.

so thought I would post a pic of an airplane, which has seen better days, and yet, sits ready for a rejuvenation, and a time to soar and take to the air again.

I lost my Vietnam Vet hat, but fortunately, was able to source a replacement. Maybe a good sign for me.

I am reminded of the words of a judge at the conclusion of a trial of one of the Sept 11 terrorists. "....we have been thru the fire before... and we will get thru this one likewise."

So, all the best, SF VET
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Re. post 661.

That is certainly going to be a ground up restoration. Stearman? (Even though the landing gear doesn't look just right.) My only experience with a Stearman was when I came face to face with one on the base leg at my home right hand pattern airport and the visiting Stearman pilot hadn't done his homework beforehand.
 
Sistema1927 said:
Re. post 661.

That is certainly going to be a ground up restoration. Stearman? (Even though the landing gear doesn't look just right.) My only experience with a Stearman was when I came face to face with one on the base leg at my home right hand pattern airport and the visiting Stearman pilot hadn't done his homework beforehand.
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No, I don't think it's a Stearman. The landing gear is wrong, and the fuselage also doesn't look right to me. Doesn't look like a AgCat to me either. Maybe a WACO? Regardless, it's nothing $100,000 dollars won't fix.

I figured it out, it's an N3N, the original "Yellow Peril". Built at the Naval Aircraft Factory in Philadelphia.
 
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Hopefully, someone made this bi-wing flyable again. I shot the pic on Agfachrome about 1973, hence it is a bit faded. If it is a Yellow Pearl it was what my dad leaned to fly at Pensacola in the late '30's. He flew a bit over 12,000 hours in WWII, and more in the next 25 years. Very few of his flight class survived the war. Very few...

ribs were good, going to try some beef ribs tomorrow. Plus, finish up making some nice 270 Winchester rounds, for my new pre-64 model 70.

Need to find why my '52 army truck's carb is not right. Coming off the engine tomorrow.

All the best, and stay safe.... SF VET
 
Chau Doc

Been away for awhile, and wife took back control of the family craft room for her quilting, so had to move my scanner and projector to one of the kid's bedrooms. But have been well.

anyway, visited Chau Doc, a Riverine base on the way south coast, although as far as I could see, it had been turned over to the Vietnamese by the time I was there. As usual, the only way to get anywhere deep in the Delta was by hitching a ride on a chopper going hither and yon. I wouldn't have had any official business at Chau Doc, just wandered around while the US chopper crew dropped off whatever their resupply was.

Here, lots of PBR's, the so called, "Brown Water Navy". There were variations of these jet boats, but all were pretty heavily armed. I think their hulls were some sort of foam or the like. One of my prior college fraternity brothers was awarded the MOH for his action as CO of a PBR. Later gov of Nebraska. Dated Debra Winger, which in my eye is right up there with our nation's highest award for Valor. Remember her love scenes with Richard Gere in "Officer and a Gentleman."

In my own experience, being an Officer and a Gentleman were often often mutually exclusive. In the UCMJ, article 136 was "Conduct Unbecoming an Officer", the catch-all charge for whatever else didn't fit in another article. In war zones, "Conduct Unbecoming an Officer" was a pretty low bar, in my opinion.

Anyway, I am back now, and will see whatever I can find which might be interesting. I have been busy reloading a lot of rifle and pistol ammo, need to get back to the range.

All the best, guys, SF VET
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SF VET said:
In my own experience, being an Officer and a Gentleman were often often mutually exclusive. In the UCMJ, article 136 was "Conduct Unbecoming an Officer", the catch-all charge for whatever else didn't fit in another article. In war zones, "Conduct Unbecoming an Officer" was a pretty low bar, in my opinion.
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Often it was better not to be a "gentleman by act of Congress" even if the paygrade was lower. Less pressure.
 
Welcome back SFVet was wondering if all was ok. Looking forward to additional interesting thoughts regarding your life experiences.
 
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It is sometimes said than our military is a reflection of our
American society. But knowing some officers and troops in my own experience, I have to wonder if putting on a uniform somehow tweaks the weird just a little to the abnormal. I will relate some of these individuals from time to time.

When I was back to Bragg, after my SEA tour, I lived for a year in a two story BOQ, by the traffic circle that used to have the statue of Iron Mike. Another captain lived on the floor above me. Once I was washing my VW in the parking lot, and he came out in the morning, and in our chat, asked me what I thought of the big Lincoln he was using. I thought it a bit "pimped out", but only commented that I liked the color. He then told me it was his wife's boyfriend's, and he was just using it for awhile .

Another time, he invited me up to his quarters for a party. He was planning to write a book on the SKS, and had about 40 variations in his room. I left after awhile, and in the morning, he came down and told me, he being pretty hung over, that the girl he had picked up downtown had stolen his gold dog tags and his wallet, and he had no idea what her name was, or where she had gone. I offered my condolences. He was in the 82nd.

Sometimes I wonder what became of some of the officers I met in my own active army years.

Or the captain pilot, onto whom I had pawned off two Canadian bar girls, who gave him the clap. He at first blamed me, but I told him I had nothing to do with his affliction and he just needed to get a shot for his "non-specific urethritis", then term used when an officer picked up a "social disease."

Next, the Chieu Hoi project.

Stay safe, and all the best... SF VET
 
SF VET said:
Been away for awhile, and wife took back control of the family craft room for her quilting, so had to move my scanner and projector to one of the kid's bedrooms. But have been well.

anyway, visited Chau Doc, a Riverine base on the way south coast, although as far as I could see, it had been turned over to the Vietnamese by the time I was there. As usual, the only way to get anywhere deep in the Delta was by hitching a ride on a chopper going hither and yon. I wouldn't have had any official business at Chau Doc, just wandered around while the US chopper crew dropped off whatever their resupply was.

Here, lots of PBR's, the so called, "Brown Water Navy". There were variations of these jet boats, but all were pretty heavily armed. I think their hulls were some sort of foam or the like. One of my prior college fraternity brothers was awarded the MOH for his action as CO of a PBR. Later gov of Nebraska. Dated Debra Winger, which in my eye is right up there with our nation's highest award for Valor. Remember her love scenes with Richard Gere in "Officer and a Gentleman."

In my own experience, being an Officer and a Gentleman were often often mutually exclusive. In the UCMJ, article 136 was "Conduct Unbecoming an Officer", the catch-all charge for whatever else didn't fit in another article. In war zones, "Conduct Unbecoming an Officer" was a pretty low bar, in my opinion.

Anyway, I am back now, and will see whatever I can find which might be interesting. I have been busy reloading a lot of rifle and pistol ammo, need to get back to the range.

All the best, guys, SF VET
img20220121-11212262.jpg
Click to expand...

Are you talking about Kerry? He was the first Navy SEAL to be awarded the MOH. I grew up in SW Nebraska.
 
Yes, Bob Kerry, he was the chapter president of my fraternity when I pledged in '65, coming out from Northern Virginia. Out of the five colleges I applied to, only NU accepted me, and that only because technically, they had to. I was apparently not thought to be a good candidate for higher education. Bob's younger brother was in my class. I was back at a party one nite, years later, and his brother was there, and picked up the phone and was told Bob had been wounded. He lost a foot in that action.

My wife is from Fairbury. I grew up as a Navy dependent, so only lived in NE as a toddler, and when I was back as a college student. Since I never "had" a home state, growing up all over the world, long ago I sort of adopted Nebraska, or maybe Nebraska adopted me and I consider that great state my Home. We get back pretty often, wife's family still in the Fairbury area. I went back to Lincoln in '73 for pre-med classes for 18 months. Then to the med school in Omaha. Met my wife on a blind date in Lincoln. I was 7 years between marriages. In retrospect, I needed those 7 years. One thing I learned in my army years was the ability to have a razor sharp focus and a relentless dedication to what I needed to do to accomplish something important.

Loaded up another 500 rounds of 9mm this AM. One of our club's shooting buddies has a memorial service this afternoon. He was a great guy. For a decade three of us would meet for some sort of dinner every Tuesday. The Three Amigos, we called ourselves. Now only the Two Amigos.

Had an inch of snow last nite, so of course my SC area is completely shut down.

All the best, SF VET
 
In my own experience, being an Officer and a Gentleman were often often mutually exclusive. In the UCMJ, article 136 was "Conduct Unbecoming an Officer", the catch-all charge for whatever else didn't fit in another article. In war zones, "Conduct Unbecoming an Officer" was a pretty low bar, in my opinion.

I remember being in a mess hall in RVN and hearing a major rant and scream that he was going to court martial whichever one of us who took the catsup off the Senior Officer's table.

This was back at Bien Hoa 101st Abn 1968.

I wonder if he retired at Flag rank.
 
In my almost thirty years of active and reserve duty, I've known some **** head types and some great folks. I may have been fortunate in that I've known more of the latter then the former.
 
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It didn't take long to see the difference when a superior officer was protecting and furthering his career, and when another Commander was just making the right and sometimes difficult command decisions necessary for the unit's mission, and trying to protect his troops from unnecessary risks or discomforts.

Nite and day difference in my own military years. On the other hand, I can't recall ever seeing an NCO be very concerned with protecting their advancement; they were always trying their best to meld mission needs with "taking care of their men."

SF VET
 
Ever since armies have fought, it has always been a goal of the warring parties to convince their opponent to run away, or surrender, or perhaps just get out of the way. The best result was if a former enemy could be somehow convinced to join one's own effort. Combat has usually been a last resort, unless one fights like Genghis Khan, who much preferred to slaughter his enemies. Or sadly, like our own military excursions against the Indian tribes in our own West.

In Vietnam, there was a program dedicated to just such a purpose, getting the VC and perhaps even a disillusioned NVA to "come over." It was the Chiu Hoy program, or something pronounced like that. Sort of like a modern Tokyo Rose attempt, "... why live in the jungle when you can have a life of relative peace and luxury, and even women." I recall leaflet drops, and here is a poster on a wall in a village, recounting the misunderstanding of some local villager, who finally saw the light, so to speak, and now has the correct vision of his role in the conflict. Note he has a Garand slung over his shoulder. I can't read the language, but the pictures say it all.

I suspect he later had a bad experience when the South Vietnamese army collapsed. Of course, it worked both ways. One of my district's small detachment of troops, guarding some small bridge or hamlet, one day, just took their weapons and "went over".

When my own compound's Vietnamese troops captured a turncoat, he was put in the wire cage until an operation was mounted, and said traitor was taken along, and always tried to escape, with the expected outcome. I made sure I wasn't there when that was going to happen. I didn't see it, and didn't know anything about it.

In US slang, I often heard the phrase "Chiu Hoy" in reference to any minor project that was "...heck, I give up on this".

So all the best, and stay safe. Family still asleep, and now another coffee sitting by the fire. Then off to Church and lunch with our Charlotte daughter, who just ran a 5K, a 10K, a half marathon and then on the fourth day a full marathon at Disney. Me, I slowly walk out to check the mail at the end of the driveway.

Oh, I found my M37's truck problem wasn't the carb, it was a failing fuel pump. All good now.

SF VET
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Chu Hoi. As a helicopter pilot in Central Highlands I wore a 2" barrel model 10 in an upside down shoulder holster. Also carried issue 4" and on many occasions had a CAR 15. Our unit had access to myriad small arms because we supported CCC (FOB2).

Funny story. In Saigon to procure a mule and was in a bar. Bar owner sent one of her girls over to entice me and as she is stroking my chest she feels the butt of the pistol in the shoulder holster. Her reaction is to scream CID and the 20 plus patrons immediately evacuated the bar. Bar owner was pissed. Got a free drink and invitation to leave immediately.��
 
SF VET said:
It didn't take long to see the difference when a superior officer was protecting and furthering his career, and when another Commander was just making the right and sometimes difficult command decisions necessary for the unit's mission, and trying to protect his troops from unnecessary risks or discomforts.

Nite and day difference in my own military years. On the other hand, I can't recall ever seeing an NCO be very concerned with protecting their advancement; they were always trying their best to meld mission needs with "taking care of their men."

SF VET
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I've always believed that there are basically two types of individuals within any given military community regardless of the specific branch, that being career military and professional military.

Both have their place however, in a peace time setting I've found the former to be more prevalent than the later regardless of rank. I recall a family member who was an Army Major during the first Gulf War telling me about the number of higher ranking officers including generals who, after decades of peace time active duty, immediately started putting in for retirement once things started to kick off in Iraq.

Those were the "career" types who were only looking out for themselves. The "professional " simply got down to the business of war. I've always felt that to serve was an honor and to serve with honor was ones duty.
 
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Richard Simmons said:
I've always believed that there are basically two types of individuals within any given military community regardless of the specific branch that being career military and professional military.

Both have their place however in a peace time setting I've found the former to be more prevalent than the later regardless of rank. I recall a family member who was an Army Major during the first Gulf War telling me about the number of higher ranking officers including generals who after decades of peace time active duty immediately started putting in for retirement once things started to kick off in Iraq.

Those were the "career" types who were only looking out for themselves. The "professional " simply got down to the business war. I've always felt that to serve was an honor and to serve with honor was ones duty.
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I'd have given you two "Likes" if I could for your last sentence alone.
 
I won't share details, in order to protect the innocent, but I was privileged to meet a real gentleman when I was serving. We got to be pretty good friends, and I would often host him for lunch at the NCO Club since the O club on that base was pretty poor in his estimation.

He was a 1st Lt. at the time, and his goal was to finish out his ROTC commitment and then get out. My goal was to stay in until retirement.

Things don't always work out like you expect. I refused re-enlistment, and got out to attend seminary. He stayed in, and retired as a Major General.
 
Coming home...

When soldiers, or other military have come "home" from their deployments or their wars, I am sure since time immortal, they returned to joyous welcoming, or perhaps something less; maybe disgrace, or despair, or loss of everything. Maybe wounded in body and spirit. And sometimes, they came back with "baggage."

When I was back to Nebraska after I left active duty to begin some sort of medical career, I met a Vet who had had both arms blown off. To this day, I hope wherever he is, that somehow medicine found some way to give him back at least some use of his upper body muscles and nerves.

For me, as I have mentioned my first wife told me just before I flew away that she was gone for ever. I never took an in-country or out of country R&R, preferring to spend my 366 days out. While I was away, my "wife" sold or discarded everything of mine. I had no civilian clothes in Vietnam, not so much as a white handkerchief. I had one set of Khaki's, and flew back LA International wearing them, with my small gym bag. Had a captured ChiCom type 53 carbine with the folding bayonet. In a few hours, was on my way to Lincoln, where my mom and dad welcomed me.

This being a firearm form, I stepped into the bedroom I had used as a child in that home, and took down my Ruger 1022, which I had bought in '65, and left on that rack 3 years before. Of course, I checked the action, and was stunned to have a live 22 round flip out! All those years, somehow, that little rifle had been loaded and ready to fire. Somehow, I had left it loaded when I put in on that rack.

The next morning I fired up my VW Squareback and by the next afternoon reported in to the JFK center. I had no civilian clothes, so immediately went to a mens store, and told the salesperson I needed some clothes. He agreed, and put me in bell bottom pants, a belt with a big buckle, a polyester shirt with wide collars, (which I couldn't keep buttoned) and buckle high top shoes. I had been away for years, but he assured me it was what men were wearing now.

In a few days, I drove up to near Blacksburg, VA, to see my sister, who upon seeing me said "are you a dude now." I looked like Sony Bono. I soon realized I looked like some wanna-be, and discarded all that, and got some slacks and jeans and resumed any new life.

I dove into my new career as an A Team Co, and left all my past behind me.

I soon found the "rules" of dating were very different than when I had last "dated" 8 years before. Very different.

So how was it for you guys when you came back from your deployments?

Stay safe, SF VET
 
Coming home was different for many of us. My time in RVN was not as bad as some and worse then others. After TET things got a bit more exciting. As I've told people my time in was more of being shot at and missed and **** on and hit. The Marine Corps was a means to an end. In early '65 they reinstated the GI Bill. It meant that I could do more for myself.

I really liked most of my time in the Corps and wouldn't have changed a thing. But I could not put up with the chicken ****. Junk on the bunk was silly to me. Having to run a PRT in Vietnam was the most ridiculous thing that came up, let alone someone complaining that our brass buckles were not shined. We complained and didn't run the PRT. Smarter heads were thinking. Raking the sand every Friday morning was the pits. I realize that discipline was required to keep people somewhat motivated but it seemed comical at times. The men in our squadron were dedicated to keeping our planes flying and safe. We wanted the pilots to return after a sortie. That's what we did twenty four hours a day.

Leaving the RVN and waiting in the holding area at DaNang, word came over AF radio that RFK was killed and with MLK killed in April, we were wondering what was happening back home. After a couple of days in Okinawa, we were headed to California. The greeting at San Bernadino was a cluster. Finally arriving at LAX the tone was not much better. There was a feeling of hostility. I had already sent a letter to my parents telling them there was not to be a party or welcoming home celebration.

I only had seven months left when I got back and made plans to go back to school. That's what I did. Did the Corps make me a better person? I think it did and will be grateful for what the Corps gave me.
 
When I got back from my first overseas deployment, I got a beautiful little daughter - nine months later……

….and when I returned from my last serious deployment, DS/DS, there were airport greeting team of folks to welcome us home, there were parades, there was …….. too much…..
 
Coming home...

Twenty years after my return stateside from my year in Vietnam, I came back from six months in the Desert Storm conflict. My reserve EVAC hospital, a 400 "man" unit, was activated at Thanksgiving and then bussed the 100 miles to Ft Riley, for further training. On Christmas Eve, my CO told me to pack my gear and get on a truck taking me and about 15 other troops to the Topeka airport, us being an Advance Party, off to Saudi Arabia.

The rest of my EVAC arrived piecemeal and then in mass about 5 weeks later. At the end of that combat, the 15 hospitals supporting that conflict were shut down, ours being the last one. Our CO offered those of us who had come over early the opportunity to return before the rest of my unit, who were still packing up our hospital. I was a bit conflicted, feeling I still had things to do, but also realized my presence wasn't necessary anymore, and if my wife found out I had had chosen to stay she would have been more than upset with me.

I took a month off to just be with my family; we went out to CO and I gave talks to community groups and such. I slowly began to ratchet down from the intensity of my personality, necessary in my desert responsibilities.

So about this time I needed to have as much Chocolate Chip gear and clothing as I could acquire. As if I needed it to keep me close to such a personally rewarding time in my life. I bought all sorts of such gear, more cammo jackets, gear bags, even Dopp Kits. I tried to surround myself with Chocolate Chip. I bought several used DigiCam long capes, knives, hats, got my own helmet and cover, and on and on. It was a compulsion I didn't understand at the time.

Perhaps a psychologist would have told me I was just trying to hold onto a life changing wonderful and fulfilling experience. In time I began to return to my civilian life and occupation, and gave much of my Chocolate Chip to Good Will, and sold more on garage sales. Incidentally, my five physician practice in Topeka had treated my wife badly in my absence, and that lingering distrust led to us to moving to South Carolina 5 years later.

War experiences can "wrap" all around us, sometimes in ways we don't realize. Gradually, I left all that behind, but now sometimes wear my Cammo "boonie' hat when I am walking on the beach.

I of course was at the Topeka Airport when the rest of my EVAC arrived. Here a pic of one of my best friends, a family practice MD from a small town in mid Kansas. We hunted pheasants together with our sons every fall. He soon left his wife for a nurse he met in our hospital. That happened a lot.

One more thing. When I resumed college back at Nebraska after my return from Vietnam, that war still on, I pedaled my bike to and from the campus. I put a small SF decal on my bike, and one day came out from a class to find someone had spit a big lugi on my seat. I sometimes wonder if that other student ever recalls his or her hostility in their own youth.

Off to the Rolex 24 at Daytona tomorrow.

Stay safe, and all the best.... SF VET
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Our ABDR (Aircraft Battle Damage Repair) Unit in DS/DS didn't deploy as a organic unit but was a composite made up of members from several different reserve ABDR units, active duty and civilian techs. I was a reservist, as was my XO, my Senior Chief was active duty as was the leading 1st Class. Our Supply Officer was also active duty. My chief engineer was a reservist. We were out in the field and at forward bases throughout SA and later, Iraq. As the military drew down after the war, we did a gradual draw down of personal and equipment after about 4 months or so until, at the end after about six months in county, I had 18 reservists and active duty left. Civilian techs had all gone home by then. We closed up shop at Al Jabal, SA, and convoyed with our remaining vehicles to Bahrain where we parted company, after a very nice farewell gathering, each heading home in one's and twos. I stayed around for a few days, filling out paperwork and reports, and writing up inputs to Eval's and FITREPs. Then I left for Naples where I spent another week doing much of the same. When I finally left and headed for home, via MACAIR, I was fortunate enough to have company of some fellow reservist who were attached to our HQ unit in Bahrain. We arrived in Philadelphia, after what seemed like days of flying, but weren't, with several other Mil Flts to a tremendous outpouring of patriotic support from the citizens of Philly. We were mixed in with probably several hundred other military personnel arriving in Philly at that time. The greeting was all very nice and we did appreciate it but it was over the top. I changed planes there for a commercial flight to Jacksonville where I was met by my wife and daughter. The greeting there at JAX was more subdued, surprising for a military town, but really welcomed as all I wanted was to get home. I took two weeks of leave to decompress and spend time with my family before reporting in to my civilian job.
I was not in combat as many of you here were; I was support. I did experience rocket and mortar attacks but they were of short durations and probably delivered halfheartedly. Given that, it still took me months to adjust to being home. It was high temp ops and a lot of the BS was put aside for awhile; we actually got some done. Lately, maybe because I'm aging, I have dreams about my time there. Nothing bad, just dreams.
 
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In 2012 I accompanied my Dad on an Honor Flight from Orlando, landing in Baltimore and busing to DC.


Everywhere we went the reception for these guys was overwhelming and most were emotional as a result.


My dad did 30 years, mostly in submarines. I was in for seven years also in submarines.


Amazing experiences.
 
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