Butch's story

FWIW:

"I entered the Army, in the delayed nntry program, on March 4, 1965. I was a
senior in High School.
I had enlisted for career choice and that was Army aviation. I graduated on
June 12 and left for basic training on June 14 at age 17.
Basic was at Fort Knox and then advanced training at Fort Rucker, Army Aviation
School. The war was really heating up then, with the 173rd Airborne already
there and the 1st Cavalry Division enroute.
Fort Rucker was frantic in training activities. Everyone knew they were going
to Nam; and most were eager, just as I was. I graduated in December and
received orders for Vietnam, just as I wanted.
But I was frustrated in my desire to fly in combat. The SM decided that I was
too young for a crew assignment. But after discovering that I could get choice
of assignment if I extended, I did so without hesitation, making my tour 18
months. I was happy.
I was assigned to the 173rd Assault Helicopter Company, fifty miles north of
Saigon, a Crew Chief in the Second Flight Platoon, which operated troop
carriers for airborne assaults.
After six months, I decided that circling in and out of LZs in a slick while
all the bad buys in the world used us for target practice was no fun. So I
extended once again for choice of assignment and moved my gear over to the
Third Platoon, a gunship outfit. I flew on gunships for the rest of my tour,
which ended in December, 1968.
I was awarded the usual "I was there," plus two Bronze Stars for Valor, five
Purple Hearts, the Air Medal with 38 Oak Leaf Clusters including 3 "V" devices,
and the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry with Silver Star.
The last time I was wounded, I did not fly the next mission and my aircraft was
shot down with all crew lost.
I returned home and after discharge in May of 1969, entered college, earning a
BA and MA. After graduation I became a Police Officer. Later I joined the FBI,
retiring in 1998. In 1977, I joined the Army National Guard, where I am still
today as a UH 60 Blackhawk Flight Platoon Sergeant with an Assault Helicopter
Company.
I never talked about my wartime experiences until about a year ago, when I
began writing at the urging of my father. That's when I finally started coming
out of my shell.
My father, who had flown combat in World War II as a B-25 gunner, had spoken
in generalities about the war. I was too young at the time to realize that he
had many issues in his life; and now I realize that those same issues are
present in mine.
My son is serving in Iraq, which has given me mixed feelings of pride and fear.
I am fearful not only for his safety, but for how his life will be after the
war, and what will happen in his mind. Of course I am proud he is serving his
country.
I'm currently getting ready to for possible overseas assignment, probably to
Iraq, as we have word we are on the short list. I don't know how to take the
prospect of going to war again, and am writing as much as possible, hoping to
get everything down so that my friends and family can understand many things
about me they have not understood. Maybe if I do this it will help my son when
he faces his own issues in coming years. I wish my father had done this for
me, rather than insisting, as he did when pressed, that the war was no
different in risk than a dangerous civilian job--you do your job and put it
behind you. Statistically, he may be right. But in every other way, he is
wrong.
There is a saying among Vietnam vets that, "it was the best we ever were." It's
true. But it is a terrible curse to have experienced so much, done so much,
all of it beyond the comprehension of those who were not there, when you were
so very young. What do you do, how do you live after that? I have to find out
so that I can tell my son. I don't want him to go through what I have.

Butch"




Chris Mark