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Simpy One of Many Stories of a Time Not So Long Ago



 
 
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  #12  
Old March 3rd 04, 11:33 PM
bryan chaisone
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

(Badwater Bill) wrote in message .. .

The Buzz of RAH

You see there were eleven of them in all and they really had nothing
in common. The engineers, the builders, the dreamers, the weekend
warriors, the curious outsiders, and even the high flyers,
unsatisfied with having done it just the week before. But there were
more in the shadows. Many more. And this is where they would come
to find out about it so they could get their weekly fix. They spoke
in a kind of code and they talked about getting high all the time.
You see they were addicts. They were hopeless pathetic addicts. And
they could not be rehabilitated. Eleven little Indians hooked on the
intoxicating elixir of forcing their bodies into a state of utter
euphoria. Taking their bodies where they should not.

And it was dangerous. Most every young man wanted to get some at some
time in his life. And some paid with their very lives. They believed
in the dream. Some built the apparatus for it right in their garage
because they believed in the dream. And then something went wrong and
their friends had to say goodbye to them.

They were breaking the law. Newtonian Law as it was known all the
way up to 1900. This was a new drug. It was really only a rumor
until 1903. Then it became believable and hit mainstream. And it was
good. It was just as good as falling in love. You never forgot your
first hit. You never forgot that feeling that you had conquered the
whole world, and you never forgot the look on people's faces after you
did it that first time by yourself. They could see the glow on your
face. They could see you were slightly smiling to yourself doing
mundane chores that you always did. They could see something had
changed in you for the better but they weren't sure what it was and
they had this quizzical look on their faces. They noticed it
everywhere you went... as you ran your errands, as you went to work,
as you said hi to your neighbor and stopped to pet a dog that you did
not like.

And they were right. Something was going on with you and there was no
way for you to hide it. Music sounded better to you. Food tasted
better. You found pleasure in everything you did. Life was good. It
was good to be alive with your little secret:
Your feet had left the ground that week with only you as the master of
your fate. And here you were walking and talking to mere mortals a
few days later, who had no idea where you soul had been soaring. You
would forever savor that feeling and spend the rest of your life
hoping to do it again.

pacplyer


( I hope some of you liked it.)


I liked it. Nice job. It's fun to write. I see that you like it
too.

BWB


Ditto!

Bryan
  #14  
Old March 3rd 04, 11:55 PM
bryan chaisone
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

(Badwater Bill) wrote in message .. .
So BWB did you really do it?



Nah. I was never in a war. Air America was a civilian airline
Everybody knows that. Ask Walt Troyer. He flew for AA. He and I are
about the same age and lived through the same ****ty times. I was a
cargo dog like you Pac. Just on the helicopter end of things and
peripherally attached to Air America. Never saw any real heat. At
least that's what my file in the Pentagon says.

But, I'll tell you another bit of fiction. The Army Huey's couldn't
cross into Laos or Cambodia to chase the Viet Cong (VC) over imaginary
borders in the middle of the jungle. The Air Force couldn't bomb over
these borders either although it did happen a few times and we took a
lot of heat for it. That was one of the things that was so crazy
about that war. There were gobbs of rules that were all in favor of
the enemy. So, there had to be some way around this at times when it
was absolutely essential for the safe ops of a mission to be
successful "in country."

If a civilian pilot for Air America crossed a border in a slick, it
was a sacrificial mission and nobody gave a **** if they didn't come
back. The Huey had no markings and the occupants carried no ID's. If
you got shot down, nobody knew you and nobody came to get you. If you
lived, you ate bugs, dogs, cats and monkeys. You used your sniper
capabilities to take out any unfriendlies and you walked back to Viet
Nam. You actually crawled back to Viet Nam because you had to stay
hidden in the dense jungle. You used your pocket knife, your survival
gear and your wit to get you back. You didn't even have a radio
because that would give you away. Water was usually the most critical
thing. If you had water, you'd most likely make it. So, the first
thing you did was try to figure out how to follow a path that had
water along it. River's, streams, lakes, anything with water.

Getting shot down for Air America wasn't like the Army. If you were
a soldier and you went down in a slick or a gun ship (in country), the
Army would almost commit endless resources to picking even one man up.
The Marines operate that very way to this day. Nobody gets left
behind, PERIOD. If one guy is out there in the weeds, they'll napalm
the **** out of the jungle and kill every living thing within 5 miles
to clear an LZ for a safe pick-up.

Air America was different. The CIA operated it covertly but those who
worked for it knew that they were to be sacrificed if they creamed in
over some imaginary line (border) somewhere where "We" (the USA)
weren't supposed to be. The way it would be explained is that the
crew was a mad-dog renegade group of drug smugglers on a personal
mission to smuggle heroin or opium across the border for their
personal profit. That was one story. There were others.


__________________________________________________ ______

A couple definitions for the kids who didn't live through that era:

VC= Viet Cong "gooks", the enemy

LZ=Landing Zone

Slick= A stripped down Huey helicopter like a UH-1H or a B-model with
no guns on the outside.

Hog=Same UH-1H with guns, rockets and all sorts of other **** attached
to the outside of it. It was slow and dirty so it was called a HOG.

Air America= CIA owned and operated airline run by a bunch of card
carrying crazies. Although most were civilians, even the one's who
weren't never carried any ID. I've heard there were many military
people including Bird Colonels who flew for Air America. But I
wouldn't know for sure. At the end of my career in the government I
even had a couple O-6's who worked for me, but they never admitted to
doing anything like that during the war.

in country= Means, in Viet Nam



(It seems to me I remember a story by you about gun running. I can't
seem to find it. You don't have a link to that do you?)


I posted it 10 years ago here somewhere. It was the story of how
Badwater Bill got his name. I've been through about 5 computers since
then and it's probably lost somewhere. It was about my inability to
fit back into society after the Viet Nam war. I ended up in Central
America supporting a bunch of good looking women. I had a lot of
testosterone in those days.

Some son's a bitches stole my women one day and I had to hunt the
*******s down and kill them. In the process, I got my name Badwater
Bill. But it was in Spanish. I'll try to find it. It was just a
fun story I wrote one day, just like the one above. It was about 80%
truth and 20% fiction. That's about the way I write this stuff. I've
lived a lot of it, but just in different circumstances. I embellish
it and change it to make it entertaining. There's nothing romantic
about war when a man is there. It's the Tom Clancey in me that makes
me write this stuff. I'm an armchair warrior. I never want to be in
harm's way again in any circumstance. I'm a coward. I'd rather sit
home and watch TV than be in a battle. But, when I was younger, I was
different. All of life was an adventure.

I'm old too, and I'm cranky. If the enemy didn't get me, my own men
would frag me for being so cranky. I got a kick out of somebody here
the other day who was talking about somebody by calling them by their
first name then using the word "Grump" at the end. It was like: "Oh
yeah, John the Grump riveted those. He did a great job too." That
would fit me nowadays. "Bill the Grump."

BWB


Bill,

The B52s bombed the sh*t outta Laos, "Carpet Bombing" they called it.
Various types of bombs. Tens and hundreds still get killed or mamed
each year from UXOs. These little metal balls or tin cans look
attractive and kids want to play with them. Farmers still lose their
legs in Laos every year. Even China has signed a Treaty to stop
producing these. My Grandpa used to live in Laos. Laos still holds
the world record for being bomded the most. More bombs were dropped
in Laos than in both WWI & WWII combined." Guinness Books. Grandpa
saids, "You want a pond? build a fire, big bird come make hold."

Bryan
  #15  
Old March 4th 04, 12:10 AM
bryan chaisone
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

(Badwater Bill) wrote in message .. .
So BWB did you really do it?



Nah. I was never in a war. Air America was a civilian airline
Everybody knows that. Ask Walt Troyer. He flew for AA. He and I are
about the same age and lived through the same ****ty times. I was a
cargo dog like you Pac. Just on the helicopter end of things and
peripherally attached to Air America. Never saw any real heat. At
least that's what my file in the Pentagon says.

But, I'll tell you another bit of fiction. The Army Huey's couldn't
cross into Laos or Cambodia to chase the Viet Cong (VC) over imaginary
borders in the middle of the jungle. The Air Force couldn't bomb over
these borders either although it did happen a few times and we took a
lot of heat for it. That was one of the things that was so crazy
about that war. There were gobbs of rules that were all in favor of
the enemy. So, there had to be some way around this at times when it
was absolutely essential for the safe ops of a mission to be
successful "in country."

If a civilian pilot for Air America crossed a border in a slick, it
was a sacrificial mission and nobody gave a **** if they didn't come
back. The Huey had no markings and the occupants carried no ID's. If
you got shot down, nobody knew you and nobody came to get you. If you
lived, you ate bugs, dogs, cats and monkeys. You used your sniper
capabilities to take out any unfriendlies and you walked back to Viet
Nam. You actually crawled back to Viet Nam because you had to stay
hidden in the dense jungle. You used your pocket knife, your survival
gear and your wit to get you back. You didn't even have a radio
because that would give you away. Water was usually the most critical
thing. If you had water, you'd most likely make it. So, the first
thing you did was try to figure out how to follow a path that had
water along it. River's, streams, lakes, anything with water.

Getting shot down for Air America wasn't like the Army. If you were
a soldier and you went down in a slick or a gun ship (in country), the
Army would almost commit endless resources to picking even one man up.
The Marines operate that very way to this day. Nobody gets left
behind, PERIOD. If one guy is out there in the weeds, they'll napalm
the **** out of the jungle and kill every living thing within 5 miles
to clear an LZ for a safe pick-up.

Air America was different. The CIA operated it covertly but those who
worked for it knew that they were to be sacrificed if they creamed in
over some imaginary line (border) somewhere where "We" (the USA)
weren't supposed to be. The way it would be explained is that the
crew was a mad-dog renegade group of drug smugglers on a personal
mission to smuggle heroin or opium across the border for their
personal profit. That was one story. There were others.


__________________________________________________ ______

A couple definitions for the kids who didn't live through that era:

VC= Viet Cong "gooks", the enemy

LZ=Landing Zone

Slick= A stripped down Huey helicopter like a UH-1H or a B-model with
no guns on the outside.

Hog=Same UH-1H with guns, rockets and all sorts of other **** attached
to the outside of it. It was slow and dirty so it was called a HOG.

Air America= CIA owned and operated airline run by a bunch of card
carrying crazies. Although most were civilians, even the one's who
weren't never carried any ID. I've heard there were many military
people including Bird Colonels who flew for Air America. But I
wouldn't know for sure. At the end of my career in the government I
even had a couple O-6's who worked for me, but they never admitted to
doing anything like that during the war.

in country= Means, in Viet Nam



(It seems to me I remember a story by you about gun running. I can't
seem to find it. You don't have a link to that do you?)


I posted it 10 years ago here somewhere. It was the story of how
Badwater Bill got his name. I've been through about 5 computers since
then and it's probably lost somewhere. It was about my inability to
fit back into society after the Viet Nam war. I ended up in Central
America supporting a bunch of good looking women. I had a lot of
testosterone in those days.

Some son's a bitches stole my women one day and I had to hunt the
*******s down and kill them. In the process, I got my name Badwater
Bill. But it was in Spanish. I'll try to find it. It was just a
fun story I wrote one day, just like the one above. It was about 80%
truth and 20% fiction. That's about the way I write this stuff. I've
lived a lot of it, but just in different circumstances. I embellish
it and change it to make it entertaining. There's nothing romantic
about war when a man is there. It's the Tom Clancey in me that makes
me write this stuff. I'm an armchair warrior. I never want to be in
harm's way again in any circumstance. I'm a coward. I'd rather sit
home and watch TV than be in a battle. But, when I was younger, I was
different. All of life was an adventure.

I'm old too, and I'm cranky. If the enemy didn't get me, my own men
would frag me for being so cranky. I got a kick out of somebody here
the other day who was talking about somebody by calling them by their
first name then using the word "Grump" at the end. It was like: "Oh
yeah, John the Grump riveted those. He did a great job too." That
would fit me nowadays. "Bill the Grump."

BWB



Bill the Grump,

I thought Air America was based in Laos, at Wat Tai Airport. They
were supposed to stay in Laos?

Bryan
  #16  
Old March 4th 04, 03:57 AM
bryan chaisone
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

(pacplyer) wrote in message . com...
I really thought that was good Bill. I liked the suspense and early
deception. I thought that was going turn out to be an alarm clock
beeping. I thought the story was going to be about drug-running for
some reason, with "the man" standing over you in the cockpit of your
stripped down Beech 18. It inspired me to pen this piece below this
morning:


The Buzz of RAH

You see there were eleven of them in all and they really had nothing
in common. The engineers, the builders, the dreamers, the weekend
warriors, the curious outsiders, and even the high flyers,
unsatisfied with having done it just the week before. But there were
more in the shadows. Many more. And this is where they would come
to find out about it so they could get their weekly fix. They spoke
in a kind of code and they talked about getting high all the time.
You see they were addicts. They were hopeless pathetic addicts. And
they could not be rehabilitated. Eleven little Indians hooked on the
intoxicating elixir of forcing their bodies into a state of utter
euphoria. Taking their bodies where they should not.

And it was dangerous. Most every young man wanted to get some at some
time in his life. And some paid with their very lives. They believed
in the dream. Some built the apparatus for it right in their garage
because they believed in the dream. And then something went wrong and
their friends had to say goodbye to them.

They were breaking the law. Newtonian Law as it was known all the
way up to 1900. This was a new drug. It was really only a rumor
until 1903. Then it became believable and hit mainstream. And it was
good. It was just as good as falling in love. You never forgot your
first hit. You never forgot that feeling that you had conquered the
whole world, and you never forgot the look on people's faces after you
did it that first time by yourself. They could see the glow on your
face. They could see you were slightly smiling to yourself doing
mundane chores that you always did. They could see something had
changed in you for the better but they weren't sure what it was and
they had this quizzical look on their faces. They noticed it
everywhere you went... as you ran your errands, as you went to work,
as you said hi to your neighbor and stopped to pet a dog that you did
not like.

And they were right. Something was going on with you and there was no
way for you to hide it. Music sounded better to you. Food tasted
better. You found pleasure in everything you did. Life was good. It
was good to be alive with your little secret:
Your feet had left the ground that week with only you as the master of
your fate. And here you were walking and talking to mere mortals a
few days later, who had no idea where you soul had been soaring. You
would forever savor that feeling and spend the rest of your life
hoping to do it again.

pacplyer


( I hope some of you liked it.)


I like.
Bryan "The Monk" Chaisone
http://www.alexisparkinn.com/rogue's_gallery_a-h.htm#C
  #17  
Old March 5th 04, 04:15 AM
Badwater Bill
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

On 3 Mar 2004 14:35:21 -0800, (bryan chaisone)
wrote:

I'll let him Know you said, "Thanks".

Bryan


You bet. I appreciate that more than you'll ever know...even to this
day.

Bill Phillips
  #18  
Old March 5th 04, 04:19 AM
Badwater Bill
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

p,

I thought Air America was based in Laos, at Wat Tai Airport. They
were supposed to stay in Laos?

Bryan



Bryan. Early on the war was in Laos. It was when Kennedy was
president. Later on it shifted to Viet Nam. I know that they bombed
the crap out of Laos in the early years, like 1963 or so before
Kennedy was killed.

After that, all bets were off. Air America had many bases, not just
in Laos. They even opperated out of Africa for some missions. Then
later on even in the Mideast.

BWB




  #19  
Old March 5th 04, 08:51 AM
pacplyer
external usenet poster
 
Posts: n/a
Default

(Badwater Bill) wrote in message .. .
So BWB did you really do it?



Nah. I was never in a war. Air America was a civilian airline
Everybody knows that. Ask Walt Troyer. He flew for AA.


I think the follow-on airline for CIA was called SAT. Southern Air
Transport (but I've heard it was exactly the same kind of thing.) He
said to leave him out of it via email. I ****ed him off doubting if
he was at that outfit. Sorry Walt. Like I said Bill, there's no
question he flew Hercs in Africa cuz I later flew with his old
co-pilot on A310's in SE Asia.

He and I are
about the same age and lived through the same ****ty times. I was a
cargo dog like you Pac. Just on the helicopter end of things and
peripherally attached to Air America. Never saw any real heat. At
least that's what my file in the Pentagon says.

But, I'll tell you another bit of fiction. The Army Huey's couldn't
cross into Laos or Cambodia to chase the Viet Cong (VC) over imaginary
borders in the middle of the jungle. The Air Force couldn't bomb over
these borders either although it did happen a few times and we took a
lot of heat for it. That was one of the things that was so crazy
about that war. There were gobbs of rules that were all in favor of
the enemy. So, there had to be some way around this at times when it
was absolutely essential for the safe ops of a mission to be
successful "in country."

If a civilian pilot for Air America crossed a border in a slick, it
was a sacrificial mission and nobody gave a **** if they didn't come
back. The Huey had no markings and the occupants carried no ID's. If
you got shot down, nobody knew you and nobody came to get you. If you
lived, you ate bugs, dogs, cats and monkeys. You used your sniper
capabilities to take out any unfriendlies and you walked back to Viet
Nam. You actually crawled back to Viet Nam because you had to stay
hidden in the dense jungle. You used your pocket knife, your survival
gear and your wit to get you back. You didn't even have a radio
because that would give you away. Water was usually the most critical
thing. If you had water, you'd most likely make it. So, the first
thing you did was try to figure out how to follow a path that had
water along it. River's, streams, lakes, anything with water.

Getting shot down for Air America wasn't like the Army. If you were
a soldier and you went down in a slick or a gun ship (in country), the
Army would almost commit endless resources to picking even one man up.
The Marines operate that very way to this day. Nobody gets left
behind, PERIOD. If one guy is out there in the weeds, they'll napalm
the **** out of the jungle and kill every living thing within 5 miles
to clear an LZ for a safe pick-up.

Air America was different. The CIA operated it covertly but those who
worked for it knew that they were to be sacrificed if they creamed in
over some imaginary line (border) somewhere where "We" (the USA)
weren't supposed to be. The way it would be explained is that the
crew was a mad-dog renegade group of drug smugglers on a personal
mission to smuggle heroin or opium across the border for their
personal profit. That was one story. There were others.


I was amazed at how loose a combat operation actually is. In Desert
Storm we landed at XXXX with a bunch of surprising stuff on board, and
after we cleared the runway everybody including the Captain whipped
out their cameras and started snapping shots of the fighters taking
off with full loads to bomb the **** out of "So-damned-insane." I was
the only one scared of losing my clearance who didn't bring a camera.
I've been kicking myself ever since. Anyway we parked right next to a
bunch of Tornados, which were being loaded with 2000lb ers (I think)
and we walked over, got in the way of loading, by accident, talked to
the jock for a second as he was inserted into to his bird and watched
him taxi out and take off for the run. I've got one shot of us in the
74 cockpit that the captain gave me if I can find it.




__________________________________________________ ______

A couple definitions for the kids who didn't live through that era:

VC= Viet Cong "gooks", the enemy

LZ=Landing Zone

Slick= A stripped down Huey helicopter like a UH-1H or a B-model with
no guns on the outside.

Hog=Same UH-1H with guns, rockets and all sorts of other **** attached
to the outside of it. It was slow and dirty so it was called a HOG.

Air America= CIA owned and operated airline run by a bunch of card
carrying crazies. Although most were civilians, even the one's who
weren't never carried any ID. I've heard there were many military
people including Bird Colonels who flew for Air America. But I
wouldn't know for sure. At the end of my career in the government I
even had a couple O-6's who worked for me, but they never admitted to
doing anything like that during the war.



Of course not. It had to of been all by the book. Everybody knows
that!


in country= Means, in Viet Nam



(It seems to me I remember a story by you about gun running. I can't
seem to find it. You don't have a link to that do you?)


I posted it 10 years ago here somewhere. It was the story of how
Badwater Bill got his name. I've been through about 5 computers since
then and it's probably lost somewhere. It was about my inability to
fit back into society after the Viet Nam war. I ended up in Central
America supporting a bunch of good looking women. I had a lot of
testosterone in those days.

Some son's a bitches stole my women one day and I had to hunt the
*******s down and kill them. In the process, I got my name Badwater
Bill. But it was in Spanish. I'll try to find it. It was just a
fun story I wrote one day, just like the one above. It was about 80%
truth and 20% fiction. That's about the way I write this stuff.


That's the perfect mix, BadH2O. Perfect. I'd like to co-write the
book with you if I ever get my **** together and get published: "The
Great Misadventures of Badwater Bill." No doubt it would be a NY
times bestseller!

I've
lived a lot of it, but just in different circumstances. I embellish
it and change it to make it entertaining. There's nothing romantic
about war when a man is there.


Ya got that right. I had this sick feeling in the pit of my stomache
when they started launching SCUDS and ATC turned us to the south over
egypt because of it. Cost us an extra two hours enroute. We were the
only ones on the ground that night who didn't have gas masks. (not
that it would have done us much good, if there were any "superbugs" in
the wreckage.)

It's the Tom Clancey in me that makes
me write this stuff. I'm an armchair warrior. I never want to be in
harm's way again in any circumstance. I'm a coward.


Bull ****. I've never met any helo cowards! You gotta have brass
balls as big as "David Clark" earcups just to set foot in one of those
things. Esp. when the jungle is full of armed bandits who would kill
you just for your wris****ch.

I'd rather sit
home and watch TV than be in a battle. But, when I was younger, I was
different. All of life was an adventure.

I'm old too, and I'm cranky. If the enemy didn't get me, my own men
would frag me for being so cranky. I got a kick out of somebody here
the other day who was talking about somebody by calling them by their
first name then using the word "Grump" at the end. It was like: "Oh
yeah, John the Grump riveted those. He did a great job too." That
would fit me nowadays. "Bill the Grump."

BWB



Great post Grumpwater.

pacplyer
 




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