Vietnam Huey Pilot’s Story
It was 27 September 1967 in Vietnam for our Huey crew
Bell Helicopters made our HUEY
Which by the Army was called HU-1 – Helicopter Utility
Picked up with a shovel today, if we only knew
Today this Vietnam sky is dewy
We were not spending the day in a facility
We didn’t know that today is our last time to fly
For today we are to die.

The 162nd Assault Helicopter Company flew the Huey H-model
We flew low in the Vietnam sky, this was no time to dottle
For the slick platoons who were called VULTURES
The radio played Harper Valley PTA
We would like to be home by May
Then a call we heard
It wasn’t the sweet sound of a bird
A solder below was hit
As the pilot I said, “This is Two-One we have it.”
Red smoke in site at two o’ clock
This thin skinned as Coke cans Huey banked 100º to the right
“This Bong Son L.Z. area is HOT!” as the pilot I cried.
One out of five pilots was wounded or died
The gunners fire as metal of death hits our Huey
I was hoping that our Huey didn’t go bluey
“I’m hit,” I cried as I tired to fly
My mind took me to memories of missions gone by

The Gun Platoon used C-Model Hueys and were called COPPERHEADS
We flew slumped way down in our seats; we would rather be home in bed
We were to pick up the ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam)
I knew the name of each of my crew, my favorite is Sam
ARVN was in heavy contact and wanted out fast
They would shinny up the steel cable in a blast
Even though 8 troops was our normal load
And the enemy was shooting at us from the road
We carried 21 troops and 4 crews that day
To get off the ground I knew I had to pray
Arm and legs were sticking out of every open door
I didn’t know if we could make it home or if it could throttle any more.
We were young men just out of boyhood 18, or 19 years old
We flew million dollar aircraft at 150 MPH, we were so bold
We had only 200 hours that just prepared us for the Vietnam rite
In a Huey with an M60 and the smell of oil and cordite
We flew with people shooting at us, but we had to complete our mission
You better believe we would had rather of been fishing
Our gun ships were used as protection for rescue and medivac ships
Our Hueys made great tree trimmers but didn’t do flips
We did slicks, carried troops, supplies, ammo, the wounded and dead
There was never a day that we didn’t have to think fast and use our head
We sprayed Agent Orange, Blue and White
They told us it wasn’t harmful, not harmful, “Yeal Right!”
The spray was to deny the enemy a hiding place in the jungle
In our crotch and toes was a fungle

We flew in all types of weather
This Huey was not light as a feather
We had little protection that would protect us from small caliber projectiles
This information was not written in the files
The enemy mostly used large calibers, rockets and mortars
We were not a train with a porter
This day in MocHoa was used to carry the dead
The dead were piled like cordwood
With bodies, arms, legs, parts and heads
There was no place left that anyone could had stood
The rotors and wind rotation in the HUEY
Covered us with bodily fluids and blood from the dead men
That is a smell you will never forget – Phuey
To do this to us just has to be a sin

We were over loaded and had to land
I am sure you guessed this wasn’t our plan
We landed in the Plain of Reeds
The enemy was doing their killing deed
In chest high swamp water that smelled like sewer
It might not had bothered a cattle farmer that played in manure

I was jolted back to today
Where my memory had drifted from and my heart will forever stay
A voice was heard from above
It was frighten and not like that of a dove
“Two-One your on fire!”
I know that he was not a liar
Our Huey crashed in a big flame
Our final day had finally came

We were put in a rubber bag
We were sent home
Our loved ones received a box covered with a flag
Then she put me by the house made of stone

For many years we had no place to go
Those coming back no honor were they bestowed
In 1982, in Washington DC , I found a home
On a black wall made of stone
There I waited for you to see
And the son you carried for me
One hot day in 1984 you came to touch my name
I heard you tell my son that I was his dad and I died without shame
I know you have to go, it’s getting dark
I hope you come back some day and make your mark
Don’t worry about me, I’m here with my crew
I am never alone, together we are more than a few
There are many of us fly boys here
We died so you could live without fear
Some were picked up with a shovel like me
Some were washed form their Huey with a hose you see
That is just the way it was you know
So please move on and let me go
I was only on loan
God called me home

Hero is a word of meaning and substance and true
Unlike “star” like 15 minutes of fame in the movies - it makes me blue
Heroes are men who manned their helicopter and fought
Even in the rot
In spite of the unpopularity of the Vietnam War and its politics and belief
To have the wall to visit is a relief


They did duty with honor and courage to keep the rest of us free
There is so much more to this story that I don’t have the time to tell you – you see?
To do this assignments was not easy
Today it is quite breezy
Events and information in this poem is true
Please give me full points (and some extra ones too.)

Darrell Henderson

On that dreary day in 1967 the Vietnam skyline was diminished,
the soldier’s final tour of duty is finished.
"I’ve been hit", it’s our greatest fear,
and once again, I hold back a tear.
They patrol in the beaches, lakes, rivers and towns,
in uniforms colored white, green, blue and brown.
The shape of their patches may vary,
but it’s a symbol that they all, proudly carry.
They left the USA kissing their loved ones goodbye,
but some don’t come home, no matter how hard they try.
To serve our country is the job that they pick,
with such high aspirations, why must some die so quick?
They leave behind loved ones, family and friends,
after their lives have met tragic ends.
Some die in crashes, others hearts not too stout,
too many have been lost when rockets, mortars and gunshots ring out.
Our Heavenly Father has called them home,
no more these dark trenches do they roam.
Through trial and error they have given their best,
please Lord, now grant them eternal rest.
Yet once again the Vietnam sky is diminished,
the soldier’s final tour of duty is finished.
"I’ve been hit", it’s our greatest fear,
and once again I hold back a tear.

PFC John N. Huntley [G]

27 SEP 69
Laos
57 AHC
#68-15558
A/C was on an extraction mission of SF LRRP in Attopeu Province. As A/C was lifting from the extraction zone with 4 men attached by McGuire rigs, they received heavy volumes of enemy fire which hit the engine and A/C began falling. The pilots were able to slow the descent somewhat by autorotation, but it hit, bounced, twisted and came to rest burning on its right side, pinning gunner underneath.

WO1 Barry K. Alexander [P]
SP5 Johnnie L. Williams Jr [G]

22 SEP 69
Quang Tin Province
71 AHC
#66-16332
A/C shot down and crashed.

WO1 Peter T. Lundberg [AC]
WO1 George W. Pepe [CP]
CE & G injured

10 SEP 69
170 AHC
#66-16602
A/C shot down west of Pleiku. A/C crashed and burned on impact.

CW2 Ben F. Sutton [AC]
WO1 Carl P. Hughes [CP]
SP4 Michael M. Cox [CE]
SP4 Marvin E. Screen [G]
SP4 Neal D. Epifanio
SGT Gary L. Evans
CPT Richard C. Miller
PFC Louis T. Mills
CPL Leroy Rutherford
03 SEP 69

B/158 AVN
#68-15537

Quang Nam Province
Hit tree crashed and burned departing an LZ with troops.

Diane