When I was at Tech School in Biloxi, Mississippi (1967).... I was so gung ho. I became a GREEN ROPE (whoopee), became the squadron Guide On Carrier
and thought I was hot crap.
The Base Commander (and this is probably where I got the itch to give crap to authority) was throwing some big shindig for the Officers and their
wives on the base, but also for some big Naval types that were to visit. The party was to honor the naval folks. Anyway, they needed some volunteers
to wear dress blues with white shirts and serve punch, escort the ladies to their tables.... basically all the kiss buttocks stuff to make everyone
feel FIRST CLASS.
I got assigned, in the back of this huge facility, to be the punch server. They had this live military band like an orchestra. Anyway, the band gets
to a point where they are taking a break..... and folks begin to start talking at their tables... and the noise level gets up there a bit. As I am
serving punch, I hear the guy on stage say that they needed a volunteer to move the piano..... so, being a gung ho trooper.... I raised my hand and
proceeded down to the stairs that led to the stage. As I was walking down to the stage, the officers and wives started to applaud me. I thought to
myself "Why are they applauding me to move the piano". Anyway, I shrugged it off with a wave to the crowd and went up on stage. As I am bending over
to grab the piano bench to begin moving it..... the guy on the microphone puts his hand over it and says to me "What are you going to play kid and
what is your name?". Needless to say..... I was petrified.... my Squadron Commander was there, the Base Commander was there, several Admirals and big
time brass were there. So, with just the slightest bit of hesitation.... I go over to the guy on the microphone and say "Sir, I don't know how to
play the piano, I thought you wanted someone to MOVE the piano". Well, with that... the guy bursts out in laughter. After a minute or two for him to
catch his breath.... he then tells the ENTIRE AUDIENCE my dilemma. To this day I can still hear the ROAR of the CROWD. As I slithered off the stage in
embarrassment, I thought it couldn't get any worse.
The next morning as we mustered for assembly to march to class, the Squadron Commander addresses our group and informs them that "Rabbit" had really
been the life of the party the previous night. Now, in addition to every Officer and Wife in the entire Southern Hemisphere knowing, now ALL my
FRIENDS now know.
When I left Keesler for Lowry a few months later, I thought the embarrassment of that night would be gone forever. I am having a 3.2 beer (yeah... 3.2
right outside of the base) and I hear some guy telling some other guys about some dumb buttocks at his last base who embarrassed the entire squadron
with thinking he was to MOVE instead of PLAY the piano. No, I didn't go up to the guy and introduce myself.
TRUE STORY!
Dave
Vietnam OR Military TRUE STORIES (Serious Or Funny), page 1
privacy
reply posted on 7-6-2006 @ 12:53 AM by Dave Rabbit
The Day I Flew Naked!
By
Edd Hogeboom
cavalier44.my100megs.com...
It was probably September '69 or so. I was off flight status due to recovering from injuries involving a round through my OH-6A engine while hovering at about 150' above ground, over triple canopy, having just located our LRRP Team that had been compromised earlier in the day.
It was probably around 8:30 or a quarter to eleven or so in Phouc Vinh, hard to remember now. I was walking back from the "showers" when the "Down Bird" alarm went off. I started to run toward my hooch to get my gear. My back muscles began telling me a fast walk was all I was going to get that morning!
I hit the door to my hooch, grabbed my helmet, my "chicken plate with my shoulder holster attached," and my .45 cal. Greaser. I was half way to the flight line when I lost one of my "flip-flops" and my towel that had been wrapped around my waist fell off. I got to my LOH and my crew was loading the back and hoping for a pilot. Until that point in time, I don't think I really gave any thought to the fact that I wasn't wearing anything but a single "flip-flop."
My Observer was the only person to acknowledge my lack of a flight suit with a quick, "You flying that way today, Chief?" "Yeah, let's get it off the ground," I responded.
I'd already taken my morning dose of muscle relaxers given to me by our Green Beret Flight Surgeon, so I don't recall my back muscles cramping up too much at that point. We cranked and pulled pitch and I started looking for a Cobra that hadn't linked to a little bird yet. When none were available I was told by ATC that all extra aircraft were cleared to LZ Buttons, so off we went.
Once we got to Buttons I was able to pick up a Cobra to fly with -- sorry I don't remember who the "Snake" crew was. We headed out and found our "down bird." The Crew Chief and Observer had already been evac'd. Three or four ARVN's were standing around the downed LOH and one appeared to be going through our pilot's pockets. I told my Crew Chief to put down an M-60 perimeter around our pilot. The ARVN's "moved out smartly." I stayed on station with our pilot, who was still in "the straps of his Bird." We had already been told that he had checked out to "The Big Six in the sky," so there was nothing more we could do but say a prayer and wait for Med-Evac to return with their body bag.
We finally got back to LZ Buttons and we needed to refuel before the flight back to Phouc Vinh. I got clearance and hovered over to "gasoline alley" and put it down on an empty refueling pad. My Crew Chief commenced refueling while we were still "hot." My observer was dozing or lost in thought none of us ever liked a "down bird" mission where we didn't bring them all back alive and relatively OK. I was filling out my log when a Huey did a straight in landing at the refueling line just to our left. I guess he was trying to impress someone with his flying expertise. I knew immediately that he was going to rock my little bird with his rotor wash. I dropped the "Green Book" in my lap (OUCH!) and grabbed the controls and went on "hot mike" to warn my crew. I kept my rotor mast from slapping and had a few unkind thoughts about the "yahoo" driving the slick.
Once he was on the ground, I went back to my log. About a minute later, my Observer hits me on my left shoulder and points to the bay of the Huey that had just landed. Having just gotten to the ground, aided by one of the slick's crew members, were two "Donut Dollies." They were stooped over trying to avoid decapitation, I'm sure, and carefully picking their way across the muddy refueling area. The one behind was the first to look up and straight into our cockpit. She froze where she stood, like a deer caught in the headlights! She reached forward and caught her partner's arm and pointed straight at me. Her mouth kept opening and closing as she held onto her partner's arm. I hit the mike button and said, "Gentlemen, I think a hand salute is in order!"
And that we did, my crew dressed smartly in their new Nomex flight suits and acoustic helmets and I in my "chicken plate" and helmet, presented our snappiest hand salutes and smiled. The lead "Dolly" finally grabbed her partner by the sleeve and dragged her on by. The second one's mouth was still opening and closing and she was still staring into our cockpit as her partner pulled her towards the tents.
I've often wondered over the years, if some grandmother is telling her grandchildren about the day she saw a helicopter pilot "fly naked" in South Vietnam. Hey, just another day in the AO!
By
Edd Hogeboom
cavalier44.my100megs.com...
It was probably September '69 or so. I was off flight status due to recovering from injuries involving a round through my OH-6A engine while hovering at about 150' above ground, over triple canopy, having just located our LRRP Team that had been compromised earlier in the day.
It was probably around 8:30 or a quarter to eleven or so in Phouc Vinh, hard to remember now. I was walking back from the "showers" when the "Down Bird" alarm went off. I started to run toward my hooch to get my gear. My back muscles began telling me a fast walk was all I was going to get that morning!
I hit the door to my hooch, grabbed my helmet, my "chicken plate with my shoulder holster attached," and my .45 cal. Greaser. I was half way to the flight line when I lost one of my "flip-flops" and my towel that had been wrapped around my waist fell off. I got to my LOH and my crew was loading the back and hoping for a pilot. Until that point in time, I don't think I really gave any thought to the fact that I wasn't wearing anything but a single "flip-flop."
My Observer was the only person to acknowledge my lack of a flight suit with a quick, "You flying that way today, Chief?" "Yeah, let's get it off the ground," I responded.
I'd already taken my morning dose of muscle relaxers given to me by our Green Beret Flight Surgeon, so I don't recall my back muscles cramping up too much at that point. We cranked and pulled pitch and I started looking for a Cobra that hadn't linked to a little bird yet. When none were available I was told by ATC that all extra aircraft were cleared to LZ Buttons, so off we went.
Once we got to Buttons I was able to pick up a Cobra to fly with -- sorry I don't remember who the "Snake" crew was. We headed out and found our "down bird." The Crew Chief and Observer had already been evac'd. Three or four ARVN's were standing around the downed LOH and one appeared to be going through our pilot's pockets. I told my Crew Chief to put down an M-60 perimeter around our pilot. The ARVN's "moved out smartly." I stayed on station with our pilot, who was still in "the straps of his Bird." We had already been told that he had checked out to "The Big Six in the sky," so there was nothing more we could do but say a prayer and wait for Med-Evac to return with their body bag.
We finally got back to LZ Buttons and we needed to refuel before the flight back to Phouc Vinh. I got clearance and hovered over to "gasoline alley" and put it down on an empty refueling pad. My Crew Chief commenced refueling while we were still "hot." My observer was dozing or lost in thought none of us ever liked a "down bird" mission where we didn't bring them all back alive and relatively OK. I was filling out my log when a Huey did a straight in landing at the refueling line just to our left. I guess he was trying to impress someone with his flying expertise. I knew immediately that he was going to rock my little bird with his rotor wash. I dropped the "Green Book" in my lap (OUCH!) and grabbed the controls and went on "hot mike" to warn my crew. I kept my rotor mast from slapping and had a few unkind thoughts about the "yahoo" driving the slick.
Once he was on the ground, I went back to my log. About a minute later, my Observer hits me on my left shoulder and points to the bay of the Huey that had just landed. Having just gotten to the ground, aided by one of the slick's crew members, were two "Donut Dollies." They were stooped over trying to avoid decapitation, I'm sure, and carefully picking their way across the muddy refueling area. The one behind was the first to look up and straight into our cockpit. She froze where she stood, like a deer caught in the headlights! She reached forward and caught her partner's arm and pointed straight at me. Her mouth kept opening and closing as she held onto her partner's arm. I hit the mike button and said, "Gentlemen, I think a hand salute is in order!"
And that we did, my crew dressed smartly in their new Nomex flight suits and acoustic helmets and I in my "chicken plate" and helmet, presented our snappiest hand salutes and smiled. The lead "Dolly" finally grabbed her partner by the sleeve and dragged her on by. The second one's mouth was still opening and closing and she was still staring into our cockpit as her partner pulled her towards the tents.
I've often wondered over the years, if some grandmother is telling her grandchildren about the day she saw a helicopter pilot "fly naked" in South Vietnam. Hey, just another day in the AO!
reply posted on 7-6-2006 @ 04:15 PM by Dave Rabbit
Although I touched on this on the "82 Year Old Woman Thread" in response to a post, after thinking about it.... I decided it really needed to go
HERE too. So forgive the duplication.
Hey LTL.... thanks for the post. I quoted part of what you said because the investigative book by Larry Lembcke called "The Spitting Image" which was part of the video interviews of "Sir! No Sir!"
www.amazon.com...
factually shows that the spitting BS story was a "Hollywood" concoction that dated back to before "Rambo". Unfortunately, like ALL myths ..... became widespread and MYTH became FACT. It just DID NOT HAPPEN!
My friend's father was spit on in LA in 1969, while wearing his uniform for his trip home to Pittsburgh. He told me to his face. He was a marine, a drill sargent, and an honest, quiet man, and he would not have lied to me.
Either an honest man lied, or the book is somewhat inaccurate, as the author could not have been everywhere at once.
My comments were in reference to what was constantly PUBLICLY being said about Hippies meeting the planes when the troops arrived home and so forth, and THAT is what the book dispels. First off, military planes DID NOT ARRIVE at civilian airports... so there is NO WAY IN HELL that civilians, much less Hippie Girls (I WISH) would be allowed on a military installation.
Now... since you have brought it up... "I" was spat on myself.... not in military uniform.... but at a party I went to after I was discharged. When I was in Saigon, I had purchased a U. S. Air Force Ring with "Saigon 1970-71" on the crest along with a dragon and "U. S. Air Force"..... basically like a Senior Ring. Anyway, I am sitting on a couch hitting up on this good looking chick sitting next to me..... she notices my ring and asks me what college I graduated from..... I told her "University Of Saigon". She then asks me if I had been in Vietnam.... which, of course, I tell her "Three Tours". Then she stands up in front of me, with me still being on the couch, and tosses her drink in my face and does, in fact, spit on me and calls me a baby killer. Well...... even though to this day I am proud that I have NEVER struck a woman.... EVER, on that particular evening.... I stood up and SLAPPED THE "BENCH" as hard as I could.... and told her where she could place future comments like those on returning Vets. I then thanked the hosts for having me and walked out the door leaving everyone who was at the party standing there with their mouths open.
So, I have no doubt about your story. Again, the book as described above has to do with the MYTH of the RETURNING VET at the AIRPORT...... NOT individual incidents.
By the way...... in thinking back to that time..... it is QUITE POSSIBLE that if the ALCOHOL had not been flowing as it was for several hours BEFORE the incident... it might not have happened at all. My experience has always been that PEOPLE act their DUMBEST when DRUNK.
Thanks for your post!
Dave
