There It Is
| An urgent call came to Medevac, Another firebase was under attack. Men were wounded and soon to die, A crew of five made ready to fly. The ship lifted off and headed west, They'd done this before, ther're the best. The gunners got ready as they could get, the medic set up his I.V. sets. Rain and lightning streaked the sky, Was hard to see... tough to fly. They made contact with the ground. The firebase was now close around. They started in to set her down, The tracers started coming from all around. The pilots held her right on course, The gunners raked the enemy force. The ship landed and picked up the men, Getting back out was somthing else again. They put on power and headed out, "We're taking hits!" the gunner shouts. The ship jerked and bounced around. The hits were bad, but didn't take her down Up and up they pierced the night, They did their job... they won this fight. They'd saved the lives of five brave men, Risking their own lives over and again. They're fine men one and all, They walk real proud and stand real tall. The grunts know when they have wounded men That Medevac will be "standing by" again. |
Maj. M. S. Boaz (MC) 15th Medical Battalion 1st cavalry Div.
Appeared Vietnam newspaper in Aug or Sept 1970.
Appeared Vietnam newspaper in Aug or Sept 1970.
| SWEET DREAMS (A Gunner's Dreams) Lying on an Army Cot, sweet dreams of home within my head, Wind howling, thunder rolling, or is it the guns, lightening,rain; I sleep through all, and dream of home, 10,000 miles across the foam. I sleep, I dream, I rest it seems until those dreaded words crash through, "URGENT MISSION"! My eyes awake, no sleep not now, my feet land within my zippered boots, No time to zip, we gotta bounce, the AC grabs the coordinates now, We run we sprint, we do our thing, Crew Chief yells "rotor clear" the turbine winds, Doors pulled back behind the bay, machine guns mounted, ammo in, the tray slapped down, every motion fluid now, "MEDEVAC" Pull the armor forward on the AC's side, secure his door, like a hundred times, Even as I settle in my hellhole now, he lifts the bird, a hover check. The chopper eases slowly back, and hovers down the dark, slick, wet tarmac The Pilot turns us to the wind, cyclic up, stick forward, we ascend, Into the darkness, the rain the fog, we rise in solitude, "WE FLY"! "Phuoc Vinh Arty", I hear them call, even as Phuoc Vinh Tower clears our flight, The AC snaps on the little red spot and searches for the coordinates, The Crew Chief left, the Gunner right, clears the bird for a lonely flight, The Medic now has settled in, I think he sleeps, I think he dreams, But then his eyes pierce the darkened scene, ready for "THE MISSION" I reach above and flick the switch, on comes AFVN with my favorite, "Chicken Man". Reaching down I zip the boots, chicken plate on armored seat in place, I settle back as the rain whips in, my helmet visor over the eyes My back against the transmission wall, I listen, try not "TO THINK" Too much thinking dulls the senses, too little thinking is really senseless, just enough; Enough to make the adrenelin flow, enough to make the body go, Enough to sharpen the dullest mind in the hardest time, Thinking and listening, waiting the interminable wait, "JUST ENOUGH" We're climbing up to 3,000 feet, the azmith fixed the heading set, we wait. The pilots busy checking things, using the "magic wheel" it seems, Frequencies punched in, they talk to the ground, On UHF our gunbirds now, Blue Max our cover, three ships "NOW FLY" The jumble of radio traffic gets to be too much, I switch off AFVN and settle in, I ask the AC to to get the lay, how large is the perimeter, Which way we going in, is it hot or cold, I want to know; Bullets flying or laying low? Do we land or hoist? "IT'S TIME" Descent is steep, we're coming in, the low bird fires his mini-bursts, I hear the high bird lining up for a rocket run, it's hot down there, I see mortor flashes theirs or ours? Rockets burst on impact now, Green tracers flying, now, our way; I pull the triggers, "HOT BRASS" The din is deafening, but I feel the thuds, "We're taking fire," I tell the crew, The ground approach, a willy-peter pops, the searchlight on, We're getting low, I end my bursts, the Cobras do the work for now, I see the figures in the eiry glow, phosphorus, searchlight, "THE PATIENT" I help the Medic load the stretcher, back to my gun, we hoover then pull torque, The getting out is worse than coming in, gathering speed, gathering height, The machinegun barrels heat and brass flys back, it hits my neck, It burns, no nevermind, shoot at the source of piques of green, "WE'RE COMING OUT" Once airborne, the lights come on, I scramble to help the Medic start an I.V., The Medic cuts his jungle fatigues, we search for wounds, his chest alone, There under the field dressing, plastic; a sucking chest wound, Another I.V. in the other side, he's oozing life now, "KEEP HIM ALIVE"! I hear them thank the Blue Max Birds, hydraulic pressure's dropping some, We think we may have trouble with the bird, the Crew Chief frets, The Medic does his magic thing, inserts a chest-tube for air, I'm on the Ambu Bag right now, just a little longer, "HE'S STILL ALIVE"! The AC calls the Tower now, cleared for the Med Pad, we swiftly descend, The lights are on, they're waiting below, we're coming in, As the skids so lightly touch, they rush towards our whirly bird, Offload the wounded, rushing him to a doctor's care, "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED" The chopper lifts from the Med Pad now, we circle the Fire Base to POL, I top it off and we hover to the ammo point, a mini-gun can is what I want, We lift aloft and head for home, a slow descent, somethings wrong, The bird she's just not handling right, the stick is stiff, at least, "WE'RE HOME"! I jump out and give the signals now, the AC pulls into the revetment somehow, He sets her down and shuts her down, the wirling rotor slowing down, I open the AC's door, the Crew Chief the Pilot's, armor back; We go ahead and shut her down, we chase the blade, "WE TIE HER DOWN" We check her out, as best we can, with flashlights in the glistening rain, we look. The Bird has holes for all her pain, hydraulic fluid mixed with rain, She's flown her last on this dark night, but she'll fly again, we know. A dying man has lived to tell, a dying bird does just as well, "THEY'LL LIVE" Second Up Bird is First Up now, our weary crew with lowered head and beaten brow, Can finally rest in our own bunks now, unscathed, unhurt, unwounded, tired; The body drained the mind a mess, this time we can really undress, Wearily we drop on tops of beds, slumbering now, "WE DREAM AGAIN" |
By: Larry Ash
From The Other Side
| At first there was no place for us to go until someone put up that Black Granite Wall. Now, everyday and night, my Brothers and my Sisters wait to see the many people from places afar file in front of this Wall. Many stopping briefly and many for hours and some that come on a regular basis. It was hard at first, not that it's gotten any easier, but it seems that many of the attitudes towards that war that we were involved in have changed. I can only pray that the ones on the other side have learned something and more Walls as this one, needn't be built. Several members of my unit and many that I did not recognize have called me to the Wall by touching my name that is engraved upon it. The tears aren't necessary but are hard even for me to hold back. Don't feel guilty for not being with me, my Brothers. This was my destiny as it is yours, to be on that side of the Wall. Touch the Wall, my Brothers, so that we can share in the memories that we had. I have learned to put the bad memories aside and remember only the pleasant times that we had together. Tell our other Brothers out there to come and visit me, not to say Good Bye but to say Hello and be together again, even for a short time and to ease that pain of loss that we all share. Today, an irresistible and loving call comes from the Wall. As I approach I can see an elderly lady and as I get closer I recognize her.......It's Momma! As much as I have looked forward to this day, I have also regretted it because I didn't know what reaction I would have. Next to her, I suddenly see my wife and immediately think how hard it must of been for her to come to this place and my mind floods with the pleasant memories of 30 years past. There's a young man in a military uniform standing with his arm around her......My God!......It's has to be my son. Look at him trying to be the man without a tear in his eye. I yearn to tell him how proud I am, seeing him standing tall, straight and proud in his uniform. Momma comes closer and touches the Wall and I feel the soft and gentle touch I had not felt in so many years. Dad has crossed to this side of the Wall and through our touch, I try to convey to her that Dad is doing fine and is no longer suffering or feeling pain. I see my wife's courage building as she sees Momma touch the Wall and she approaches and lays her hand on my waiting hand. All the emotions, feelings and memories of three decades past flash between our touch and I tell her that it's all right. Carry on with your life and don't worry about me...... I can see as I look into her eyes that she hears and understands me and a big burden has been lifted from her. I watch as they lay flowers and other memories of my past. My lucky charm that was taken from me and sent to her by my CO, a tattered and worn teddy bear that I can barely remember having as I grew up as a child and several medals that I had earned and were presented to my wife. One of them is the Combat Infantry Badge that I am very proud of and I notice that my son is also wearing this medal. I had earned mine in the jungles of Vietnam and he had probably earned his in the deserts of Iraq. I can tell that they are preparing to leave and I try to take a mental picture of them together, because I don't know when I will see them again. I wouldn't blame them if they were not to return and can only thank them that I was not forgotten. My wife and Momma near the Wall for one final touch and so many years of indecision, fear and sorrow are let go. As they turn to leave I feel my tears that had not flowed for so many years, form as if dew drops on the other side of the Wall. They slowly move away with only a glance over their shoulder. My son suddenly stops and slowly returns. He stands straight and proud in front of me and snaps a salute. Something makes him move to the Wall and he puts his hand upon the Wall and touches my tears that had formed on the face of the Wall and I can tell that he senses my presence there and the pride and the love that I have for him. He falls to his knees and the tears flow from his eyes and I try my best to reassure him that it's all right and the tears do not make him any less of a man. As he moves back wiping the tears from his eyes, he silently mouths, God Bless you, Dad...... God Bless, YOU, Son...... We WILL meet someday but in the meanwhile, go on your way......There is no hurry.......There is no hurry at all. As I see them walk off in the distance, I yell out to THEM and EVERYONE there today, as loud as I can,.........THANKS FOR REMEMBERING and as others on this side of the Wall join in, I notice that the US Flag that so proudly flies in front of us everyday, is flapping and standing proudly straight out in the wind today,............ "THANK YOU ALL FOR REMEMBERING" |
" ... For he today, that sheds his blood with me, shall be my brother." Steven E.
Daskal Mystech Associates 5205 Leesburg Pike #1600 Falls Church VA 22142
703/671-8680 x313
Daskal Mystech Associates 5205 Leesburg Pike #1600 Falls Church VA 22142
703/671-8680 x313
A SOLDIER
| I WAS THAT WHICH OTHERS DID NOT WANT TO BE. I WENT WHERE OTHERS FEARED TO GO, AND DID WHAT OTHERS FAILED TO DO. I ASKED NOTHING FROM THOSE WHO GAVE NOTHING, AND RELUCTANTLY ACCEPTED THE THOUGHT OF ETERNAL LONELINESS ...SHOULD I FAIL. I HAVE SEEN THE FACE OF TERROR; FELT THE STINGING COLD OF FEAR; AND ENJOYED THE SWEET TASTE OF A MOMENTS LOVE. I HAVE CRIED, PAINED, AND HOPED ...BUT MOST OF ALL, I HAVE LIVED TIMES OTHERS WOULD SAY WERE BEST FORGOTTEN. AT LEAST SOMEDAY I WILL BE ABLE TO SAY THAT I WAS PROUD OF WHAT I WAS ... A SOLDIER |
by: George L. Skypeck
Submitted by Claude Newby
APVNV Pat(Beanie)Camunes
D/4/31 196th Light Infantry Brigade
Tay Ninh, 12/'66- 04/'67 Tam Ky (I)Corp
04/'67-12/'67
D/4/31 196th Light Infantry Brigade
Tay Ninh, 12/'66- 04/'67 Tam Ky (I)Corp
04/'67-12/'67
| TAPS In Memory of a dear friend By: Larry L. Ash |
| It's true, it's true, he's gone from you And never shall return There's no doubt, there is no doubt His days on earth are through. He left his home, he's truly gone I guess he knew it then He could not stay, it was his day, it was his very end. A young man, without much sin, He hadn't lived so long He gave his life, his very life, He knew it was the end. And now you pine, you cry your tears You wish you had him back But body bags, and monuments, make governmental facts. So, fare thee well, my homegrown son And fare the well my child. A flag drapped coffin, a cold dark grave A fifteen-gun salute, Then don't breath breath into a corpse, They don't bring back a life So, shoot your guns and sing your songs and play the final taps. For life is long or life is short It matters neither way, For once the life has flown with soul The body does decay. So, stand ye comrades, oh so tall, Salute the final hour, And shed a tear, recall the fear, let's bid farewell today. Farewell, we say, this very day Goodbye unto a friend. Tomorrow comes, could be your day, May be the very end. It's life we've known, it's life we've lost, And so we say goodbye. You were our friend, until the end; at last, we say "Goodbye". |
by Patrick Camunes
Copyright © (1998)
Copyright © (1998)
| Hydrogen Peroxide and Blood Flying on wings of dread, we evacuate the wounded soldiers, broken bodies fill rivers red. The blood boils; the medic toils; toils to remove the blood. The blood runs red as the rotorblades whirl above my head. The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. The ricepaddies's mud mixes with the blood. The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. The phosphorous and blood burns; my senses reel ! The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. A mushroming fireball of red flame meets my gaze; napalm explodes in a fiery blaze. The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. Mines planted in the earth's crust loom, to reap a human harvest of doom, The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. Newspaper and television accounts tally the cost; a gruesome accounting measured in severed limbs and lives lost. The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. The eagle has landed and blood is on the moon. The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. Skulls break; theres is 'Fire In The Lake.' The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. Deadly orange rain leaves a trail of tears and pain. The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. Saturation bombing leaves mountain ranges bare; there is nothing left in the wake of the rocket's red glare. The blood boils; the medic toils, toils to remove the blood. Where is compassion and where did love go? Where are the trees and grass? Does anyone know ? The blood boils; the medic toil, toils to remove the blood. Copyright ©2003 Rick L Freeman All Rights Reserved Ardmore, Oklahoma (Mud Creek) 1st Cav HHQ 15th Med in Vietnam Oct 1967 - Nov 1968 Crew Chief on Heliocopter # 928 An-Khe , Bong Son , Khe Shan, Ashau Valley, Da Nang , Tet, Quang Tri , Tai Ninh |
| SYMPATHETIC JOURNEY Gilding over country, breathless in its beauty Until you come on station, and its time to do you duty Sometimes in the morning, a mission called routine Meant dropping down thru pea soup fog, into triple canopy Or trying to save a baby, burnt by accident Who will haunt you till the day you die, with a pain that won't relent While it was reasonable to question, what the war was about Our mission was quite simple, to get the wounded out Flying into hells fire, without a moments pause Because death was our enemy, life was our cause You can feel your heart beating, behind your chicken-vest Knowing what it meant to hear, FIRE HAS BEEN SUPPRESSED Hovering under fire, offering all you have to give Your hopes, Your dreams, Your future SO THAT OTHERS MAY LIVE! Dedicated to all my brothers from the 15th Med Bn. Copyright©2003~2004 Doug Campbell Crew Chief A/C # 67-17624 |
| CRY FOR THE CHILDREN Cry for the children, the children who die in wars. Cry for the children, the children who bare wars scars. Cry for the children, the children and the lost promise of lives too soon taken. Cry for the children, the children cast into the nightmares of war, not to awaken. Cry for the children, the children whose lives are forged in flames. Cry for the children, the children war maimes. Cry for the children, the children whose parents war takes. Cry for the children, the children, the orphans war makes. . Cry for the children, the children in whose hands the rifle is placed. Cry for the children, the children, for what they must face. Cry for the children, the children with stones in their hands. Cry for the children, the children in troubled lands. Cry for the children, the children who learn to hate. Cry for the children, the children , before it's to late. Cry for the children, the children , who can't protest. Cry for the children, the children, may they find rest. Cry for the children, the children, the children , the children, the children... Copyright ©2003~2004 Rick L Freeman All Rights Reserved Ardmore Oklahoma (Mud Creek) 1st Cav HHQ 15th Med in Vietnam Oct 1967 - Nov 1968 Crew Chief on Heliocopter # 928 An-Khe , Bong Son , Khe Shan, Ashau Valley, Da Nang , Tet, Quang Tri , Tai Ninh |