REMEMBRANCES OF VIETNAM WAR YEARS

LT ROBERT T. HASTINGS, SC, RETIRED USN

GROWING UP IN CHICAGO...The Early Years

I was born in 1938, grew up in Chicago, Illinois, raised in an Irish/Scottish family with loving parents, and three brothers with only one sister. I attended a Catholic Grade and High School, graduating in 1957. For me, the remembrance of war was World War II with victory over Germany and Japan, and Army Soldiers returning in the trains that wind through the Chicago neighborhoods. I recall some of the soldiers hanging out of the train windows would wave, cheer, and throw candy, war medals, and their hats to us kids as we lined the train tracks waving them home. The next remembrance of war was the Korean War in 1950 - I was walking to my grammar school class one morning when I heard the screams coming from a home. The Mother had received word that her only son was killed in combat; he was only in Korea for three months. I remember before he left for the Army, he would talk with us younger kids on the front steps of his home; he graduated in 1950 from the same high school that I would graduate from in 1957. Years later, I found an Internet website with his name, date of killed in action, and a memorial tribute. That was the very first time war had an impact on me - I have often thought of him, dying at such a young age, and so quickly in Korea. During World War II and again during the Korean War, every home that had a member serving in the Armed Forces would set a blue star flag in their window - and if the family had lost a member, they placed a gold star flag. Refer to website at http://www.bluestarmothers.org/flags.php. Also, at the end of each city block, there was a white post with the names of the servicemen/women from that block. I would stop and read the signs as I walked to school. Gone are all the posts and dedication signs from the city blocks, but back then it was a time we remembered and honored each individual by name, it was very personal at times.

During my Freshman year in high school, several of our school basketball team would use the gym located at the 33rd Division National Guard Armory, one night a Army Captain asked if we would like to join the National Guard and play on their Company team. Although underage, I asked my parents to let me sign up so I could play basketball. I would attend Guard Drill once a month, and attended a two Army training deployment to Camp Ripley in Minnesota - Being away from home for the first time on my own was a real experience. Playing the role of a soldier at the age of 16 years old was a real eye opener for a young high school student. I learned discipline, how to fire an M1 rifle and stand in long lines, I.e. The chow line, pay line, shot line, dental line, and even a line to use the latrine - Officers did not wait in line, they had head of the line privileges. Another new learning experience was I drank a can of beer...all the older men were protective of me, and when they all went to the local town on liberty, I was sent to the base movie, and back in camp and bed by midnight. We never won the divisional basketball title, but it was a wonderful life learning experience for me. When I did enter the Armed Forces, I was surprised to find out that I was give three years National Guard service which gave me more pay each month.

After graduating from high school, I went to college on a full scholarship playing football, but did not finish college....I did not realize that I had to study as well as play football. Only joking, but it was difficult to do both and my study time suffered. I left Saint Joseph's College in Indiana in November, 1958, returning to Chicago and the family home. Briefly, I worked at a Television Advertising Agency in downtown Chicago as a Technical Writer Apprentice, that is learning to write TV commercials. Remember, television was very new in 1958, and many homes did not have TV sets, but art of creating TV commercials in high demand. Unfortunately, there was a draft in effect, and all males at the age of 18 years old had to register for military service. My Boss was hesitant to invest too much training or promotion in a young guy who could be drafted at any time. So, I decided to enter the Navy, get my military obligation over, and return to civilian life, but life is not always the way we plan.

MY NAVY YEARS 1958-1983

When I entered the US Navy in 1958, it really was the first time I was to be away from my family and home in Chicago for an extended period...this was a final goodbye, and now I was on my own. But really, I belonged to Uncle Sam now for four years. At the time, a four year enlistment seemed like an eternity for a 18 year old...I realized that I would turn 21 years old, the legal age while I was in the Navy, and that made me feel older just knowing that I was on my own now. Initially, I had joined the US Marine Corps in downtown Chicago, visiting the Marine Recruiter over my lunch hour from work in the Chicago's famed Loop district. The Armed Forces Recruiting Center was a joint military induction processing center, I.e. Marines, Navy, Army and Air Force...The Marines offered a two year enlistment which appealed to me. After setting up preliminary arrangements to join the Marines, I returned to the Advertising office where I was working only to hear from all the other guys who had previously served in the Navy or Coast Guard, and were older than I that the Marines would be a big mistake. One gent remarked that as a Marine, all I would be doing was saluting cars entering Marine Corps Center at Camp Pendleton http://www.cpp.usmc.mil/ and there was no future in that job for two years. So, I went to see the United States Navy Recruiter, a Chief Petty Officer asked only one question: "Did you raise your right hand, and enlist in the Marines?" Of course, my answer was not yet, and immediately he offered me not two years but a four year enlistment in the US Navy...like I should feel that I was getting a better deal? I have never regretted joining the Navy, and to this day, I have a deep, sincere respect for our Marines, a proud fighting force with a long history in our country. After my induction into the Navy, there was a waiting period of about 10 days in which I prepared my family and my work place that I would be leaving, everyone felt that the Navy was the right choice for me.

In our family, we have always been either Navy or Marines...Although, my Uncle Eddie, and my Father served in the Army and Illinois National Guard, but my biggest influence was my Uncle Joe, my Mother's kid brother joined the Navy at 17 years old following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, he served with the Navy's famed Seabees Construction Battalion in the Pacific Theater, fighting at New Guiana, and Okinawa. My Mother's Aunt Daisy lost her only son, a Marine killed in action at Iwo Jima early in the war. I recall during World War II, someone was always getting killed or wounded in the neighborhood, and to hear that 2,000 or 3,000 men were killed in a single battle was not unheard of, and everyone seemed to accept that war is war, and people die. Life in 1940s continued on - I remember collecting newspapers, tying the bundles with string, and weighing for a few pennies - tin cans were the real money maker getting 10 cents for a large bag. Everyone saved trash (now called recyclables) for the war effort - and rationing was set on gasoline, rubber tires, meat, certain food items like sugar, coffee, and shoes, woman's nylons were never available during the war. The ladies would run a black pen marker down the back of their legs to simulate a nylon seam. Funny how war changes so many things. Reason I am relating the wartime struggles and sacrifices of the civilian population back in WWII, when compared to Vietnam War, there was no hardship forced on the civilians, life continued during the 1960s, 1970s like there was no war, and for many it was the best of times in making money, buying a new home, new car, and just getting ahead life. Not unlike it is today with the war in Iraq - some fight, some die, but for the rest of us, life goes on without interruption. We may gripe about the price of gasoline, but no one relates the rising cost for fuel to the on going war - we are told that the oil refineries can not keep pace with demand, but no mention of any war being the shortage problem. Strange how each new generation must experience the horrors of war.

I joined the US NAVY on February 15, 1958 for a four year tour of duty. After graduating from the Navy's eight week Boot Camp at Great Lakes, IL, and attending several Navy training schools, I was advanced to Airman (E3). I was assigned to the Navy's Aviation branch, and supported naval aircraft at shore bases and afloat units. I am getting off track now, so let me return to your question - I remember after graduating from Navy Boot camp, I had orders to proceed to the Naval Air Technical Training Center at Norman, Oklahoma (home of the University of Oklahoma) - this was to be my very first airplane ride. I was granted 10 days leave staying with my family in Chicago, but after only a few days home, I became very ill, I had contracted Lombard pneumonia in both lungs, and although deathly sick, I left Chicago for the plane ride onto my new duty station.

I was so afraid of getting in trouble with the Navy if I were late or did not get to my duty station on time. The plane flight was exciting, everything was so new to me...the female Flight Attendant was very nice, especially to a young handsome guy in a Sailor suit for back then I had a lot of blond hair, and was in great physical shape. As I gazed out the plane window, I saw large black spots on the ground, and thought the must be oil stains because Oklahoma was rich in oil, but much to my embarrassment, I learned that the large black spots were really cloud shadows - remember this was my first flight. Upon landing at Oklahoma City, the Navy had a bus to transport arriving Sailors to the base for check in - I was so sick that while standing in a long line with my seabag in tow, my nose began to bleed from all the coughing, sneezing, and pressure buildup in my head. I was wearing a sailor white uniform, and the blood spots dotted my chest. Immediately, I was led away to Sickbay and as I entered the Infirmary doorway, I passed out completely. After two weeks in a coma, I finally awakened and was startled to find myself in a Naval Hospital recovering from the pneumonia - I was given penicillin shots twice daily in the butt cheeks - it was painful after so many shots, so the Hospital Corpsman would have the Sailors receiving shots to bend over, part the Johnnie gown, and he would slap our check, the sting of the slap eased the pain of the shot....but only sometimes. The Navy Doctor was upset with me for not turning myself in at the Great Lakes Navy Hospital, and asked why I came all the way to Oklahoma to be admitted...my only excuse was, I did not want to miss the airplane flight.

Eight weeks later, I finished my navy school training on the introduction to Naval Aviation, and proceeded to my first real duty station at Naval Air Station, Sanford, Florida. What a great start for a young Sailor - the small base was located 20 miles from Daytona Beach, and the Summer beach season was just starting when I arrived in July, 1958. The Navy chow as food is called was for the most part very good, realizing that the Navy Cook gets the finest meats available, and what he does with it afterwards the Lord only knows, but all joking aside the meals were tasty, portions ample and for a young guy making all three square meals was important to me. The pay was low, I made about $125. dollars every two weeks, the 1st and 15th were PAY CALL days when the Sailors would line up to get paid in cash by the Paymaster - first, you had to check the pay list to find out you amount, then fill out a pay chit and stand in line. The pay was in cash, and twenty dollar bills looked like a lot of money to a young Sailor, but within a week, I was usually broke along with most other Sailors living in the barracks for single men. We lived in a Quonset Hut style building with twenty Sailors to a wing, and double beds (bunk style) lined both sides of the wall...I was fortunate to have a lower bunk. Each morning we had to be up by 6:00am, bunks made, showered/shaved and ready for breakfast before reporting for work muster at 7:00am....all Sailors were assigned to a department and I was with the Supply Department on the base. We provided logistical support for the jet aircraft squadrons, over 40 planes require a lot of replacement parts, gasoline, tires, and engine repairs. I had four other Sailors that reported to me, and I was their Section Leader in turn reported to a Chief Petty Officer who was senior to all of us. One day, I had a disagreement with another more senior Sailor, and had to speak with the Chief...this was bad. The Chief gave me 15 days restriction aboard the base, and pulled my liberty card meaning no more going ashore or seeing the girls in town for two long weeks. After the first week, if finally sunk into my head that it would be easier to do the right thing, obey every order, and get my liberty card back so I became a model Sailor and soon was on my way to town again on liberty. The older Sailors, more seasoned in their military and professional manner were always willing to help the younger Sailors...I recall we always had weekly training sessions with many subjects on human development, health, moral and physical fitness being stressed. It was a wonderful experience for a young man to be able to be on his own, but yet, have the comfort and support of others who shared in a common goal, and mission. I have the greatest respect for our military men and woman who continue in a military career.

Needless to say, I spent three great years at Sanford, Florida, advancing to Petty Officer Second Class (E5), and deciding to reenlist for six more years. My decision to stay Navy came as a shock to my Mother, and family. My Mother had sent me an application to join the Chicago Police Department in 1961, and since many in our family were either Policemen or Firemen, she had high hopes of my returning to Chicago, becoming a Police Office, marrying a nice Irish girl, and having plenty of kids as a good Catholic boy. Sorry Mom, but life on the high seas seemed to call me so it was the Navy for six more years.

MY FIRST OVERSEAS TOUR...

I transferred overseas to Japan - the Naval Air Station at Atsugi, Japan was a three year tour of duty ashore. I was assigned to VR 21 squadron supporting the C1A Grumman aircraft, this twin engine small but powerful engine lift aircraft hauled mail, cargo, and passengers out to the aircraft carriers operating in the Pacific. When I arrived in 1961, life was at a slow pace, Vietnam was in the distant future, and the tempo of military involvement in the Pacific Ocean was relatively light with only three large aircraft carriers operating with the 7th Fleet. The task force would span the line running from the Philippines, to Okinawa, to Japan, and then swing down the coast of both North/South Korea and along the coast of Vietnam - usually two carriers covered the wide area while one carrier remained in port for overhaul, rest and replenishment.

Life in Japan was exciting and always active for a young Single Sailor - of course, we were not encouraged to "date" Japanese girls, and marriage was really frowned upon by higher command. Just outside of the naval station was a small town that the Sailors could go into for liberty, many bars and dance halls were lined along the dirt streets, sort of reminded me of an old western town with bar fonts and wooden sidewalks. No roads were paved so on rainy nights a lot of shoes got wet, there is a custom in Japan that calls for one to remove their shoes when entering a home....you could see all the sandals lined up along the home steps as you walked the road into town. The bars in town catered to the American Sailors with wine, woman and song....you could hear the blast of American western music coming from within a bar and the Japanese girls would stand at the door begging your entry....'Buy me drinkee, come dancee with meeee" was the cat call at the time. The military brass turned an eye with the Japanese police and politicians when prostitution was discussed in the many status of forces agreements....after all, the Japanese government had provided over 150,000 woman for the use of US Military men at the end of the war, and most Japanese felt it was better to have 'working girls' service the military rather than have the decent daughters of a Japanese household associate with an American...we were consider to be barbarians, and without culture.

When visiting Yokohama I observed a Japanese tradition of the BLACK SHIPS a parade that recalls when Admiral Perry's ships entered Japan, and our American Ambassador Townsend Harris opened Japan to trade with the West...refer to website at http://www.answers.com/topic/harris-townsend. The Black Ships and the 'red haired devils' were demonized as the worst catastrophe to strike Japan since the plague which also was blamed on the American presence in Japan. Another memory is visiting the foreigners cemetery in the hills of Nageshi Heights surrounding the City of Yokohama....there is a well maintained grave site for about 8 to 10 American Sailors who perished in 1850 circa - there bodies washed ashore from shipwrecks or some died of disease to be interred in the cemetery set aside for only foreigners. The local Navy League and military base maintains upkeep and maintenance. The Japanese people respect Americans, and marvel at our accomplishments. Walking the streets of Tokyo, Yokohama or any other city at night was safe and secure, the crime rate in 1960s was very low, and murder, rape or robbery by Japanese was virtually unheard of at the time. It seemed as I walked amongst the Japanese people that they would give you the 'Asiatic Stare' meaning they would never look you directly in the eye, but seemed always to turn away their face as you might pass...some would even step aside, and bow in recognition, but not in submission, nor defeat. They are a very proud people, honorable, and trustworthy. I remember the young children, smiling and bowing in their brightly colored kimono dress, and platform shoes, with the obi wrapped around their waist. There is a special day in recognizing the male member of a Japanese family; they fly a cloth fish on a pole waving in the breeze from their home to signify having a son in the family household.

My tour in Japan is memorable and brings back many wonderful days enjoying the country and the people. I dated a Japanese girl, Reiko Tada for several years; she worked at the US Navy Housing Facility Yokohama as a Secretary to the Supply Officer. She spoke near perfect English, and could write, spell, and converse in English very well. We would visit Japanese and German restaurants in Yokohama, remembering the Germans were allied with Japan during the World War, and many Germans elected to migrate to Japan for business reasons in the years following the war. She even spoke a little German which I recall with surprise. A funny incident, many Japanese girls learned to speak English, actually American slang from our military....girls who learned from Southerns (Americans from the South) actually picked up the Southern accent - and one Japanese girl learned to speak English from an Australian so you can imagine how she pronounced "Gawg day". I did not marry Reiko, although I did love her, but not enough to span the separation between East and West. We said our good byes at the Tokyo International Airport in June, 1964, we both had tears in our eyes as we parted. I will always love her, at least love the memory of our love we shared together in Japan when we both were very young at heart.

AWAKING FROM THE LONG NIGHTMARE...

My first experience with Vietnam was in 1963 while I was stationed at the Naval Air Station in Atsugi, Japan serving with VR 21 air transportation squadron - the mission was to provide air cargo, mail and passenger delivery to at sea aircraft carriers. At the time, the US had several aircraft carriers operating off the coast of North and South Vietnam.

The ships would provide air support for ground forces, target hostile movements on the road, and attack enemy air and ground forces. During a deployment to Okinawa and the Philippines supporting the moving aircraft carriers, we landed aboard the Australian aircraft carrier HMAS MELBOURN for an overnight stay. It was strange to be on another country's ship, sharing food with their Sailors, and sleeping in a strange bed. The Aussies were friendly, and wanted to know everything about America. We took off early the next morning, and headed for the Navy aircraft carrier USS KITTY HAWK to deliver mail, cargo and passengers. The deck landing was a real thrill, going from 200 miles an hour to a sudden jerking stop in three seconds. The airplane has a tail hook which grabs/catches one of four steel cable wires - this is called an arrested landing. If I thought the landing was exciting, within the hour, our plan was launched from the deck by catapult shot - the ship's ground crew hooked our nose wheel up to a bridle and the steam catapult is pulled back until the tension is set for the weight of the aircraft, and within three seconds a standing aircraft with engines running at top speed is shot down the track and actually thrown into the air with tremendous force. Again, we went from zero to 180 mph - thank God for seat belts, and running engines to grab the air and get us airborne and heading safely back to home base. Not all launched aircraft or landings aboard our aircraft carriers are successful, but more about that later in the interview.

I recall that in 1964, late one night there was a buzzing excitement aboard our air base, medial buses were assembled down at the runway to evacuate wounded Marines....I raced down to the flight line, and watched as over 50 wounded were removed from several MATS (Military Air Transport Service) C47 aircraft and reloaded aboard the medical buses for transport to the Naval Hospital at Yokosuka, Japan. I could see several Marines were bandaged with head, arm and leg wounds, virtually all were stretcher cases with plasma bottles dangling as they were gently lifted into the rear of each bus. The wounded would be evaluated at the Hospital for immediate life saving treatment, while less severe cases would be transported back to the United States for follow on treatment.

My remembrances of the Vietnam War are mainly my first hand memory of what happened to other men, I was never wounded, or fought the enemy in ground combat. In 1968, I had to have my right knee operated on for a torn medial meniscus from an old basketball injury; I was admitted into the US Naval Hospital at Jacksonville, FL - while awaiting surgery, one dark night, I heard a soft, crying sound coming from a room across the hall. I got up to check out the whimpering sounds and found a young black Marine who was covered with a raised white sheet so no contact was made to his burnt body. He had been wounded in Vietnam, burned with napalm over 60% of his upper body. He was in such terrible pain, but could not move. I sat next to him and gently touched the pillow, and told him he was not alone, and I would stay with him for awhile. He had tears falling from both eyes, slowly rolling down his cheeks. I knew the pain was intense, and he seemed so young. I found myself slowly tearing up, and for me that was the night I lost any racial prejudices I held in my heart - his pain, suffering and sacrifice was more than I could bare. I felt so ashamed for harboring any racial hatred in my life. I firmly believe that night was an awakening for both of us; he knew that someone cared, and I found myself caring, grieving and crying for someone I never knew. I hope he made it, and some where in America is retelling this same story to his Granddaughter.

Upon my return from overseas tour in June, 1964 the Vietnam War was not a big newspaper headline grabber, many Americans did not even know where Vietnam was, and for many young men and women they would find out over the next 10 years. The Vietnam War was America's longest and most agonizing venture into war. Some feel we lost the Vietnam War, I do not. The Armed Forces had superior fire power, man/woman resources, and a will to win. What we lost over the first five years was the American Will to continue the war. When I got home in San Francisco - I was told not to wear my uniform at the airport, and I changed into civilian cloths to avoid any conflicts with 'Fellow Americans" who opposed the war. To this day, I feel ashamed that I did not take a strong stand, and wear my uniform with pride. The Vietnam War was not about Communism, nor the threat of the "Domino Effect" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Domino_theory which portends that if Vietnam were to fall to the Communists, then all of Southeast Asia would follow in time. It is true that elements of Communism were at work in Vietnam, as well as North Korea and several other countries, but the real reason for the clash of forces between the North and South Vietnamese government was political, and in truth a Civil war. History repeats itself when we fail to listen.

Just as we have today with Iraq, we are involved in the middle of a civil war, compounded by the acts of pure Terrorism that is a force separate and with distinct goals from the Secretarial violence clashes between the Sunnis and Shittites, and to lesser extent the Kurdish people in the North. This website provides insight into Iraq today...http://servercc.oakton.edu/~wittman/chronol.htm. During the Vietnam era, American families were bitterly separated in viewpoints on the war, Fathers raised during the World War II era held the American flag and Patriotism as sacred symbols of our democracy - the image held by most Fathers was the "John Wayne Sands of Iwo Jima" dedication of the American Fighting Man, and not to serve your country when called was a shame no family could bear with others. Many young men by 1968 were disillusioned with the long duration of the war, and lost faith in the government's ability to win the war - some left for Canada rather than serve, and many families were broken beyond repair, torn by shame and pain between Fathers and Sons.

I recall talking with my youngest Brother Patrick who at the age of 12 years old, asked if he would have to serve in Vietnam, and I remember jokingly stating that the war would be long over by his time to serve, little did I realize that was in 1969 and the war had five more years of death and destruction. Although, the first combat deaths in Vietnam were as early as 1959, two US Army soldiers were killed in combat operations providing field support for the Vietnamese Army - we called them "Technical Advisors" at the time. By 1964, the weekly death toll was increasing at an alarming rate. When Life Magazine, http://members.AOL.com/mraffin/memday69.htm, featured an pictorial on the faces of Americans killed in Action during one week in July, 1969, the whole Nation looked at each of the photos with surprising results - for the first time, I think we saw our Fathers, Sons, Uncles, Nephews in those faces silently staring back at us with dead eyes. Woman were not spared in combat deaths, over 60 woman gave their lives in the Vietnam War...refer to website http://www.mrfa.org/vnstats.htm for statistical breakdown.

Before ending this session, please understand, I have no answers for what happen with Vietnam, our Country with several other countries Fighting Forces went to Vietnam with the intention of helping a struggling nation resists Communist aggression and offered the Vietnamese people a ray of hope and chance at self government. The goals were noble, true and honorable - we felt that democracy was the best form of self government and should be shared with the world. Little did we realize that what works in America, may not be realistic, or welcomed in other Countries. Once a Country enters into a Civil War, it is extremely difficult for external governments not to take up sides of support.

Our choice was to go with the South, and support the South Vietnamese government with men, material and treasure for over 10 long years. As I conclude this phase of the interview, I reaffirm that the United States Fighting Forces did not lose the war; we lost the people and their WILL TO FINISH the process. I think Vietnam as a country, and their people may well be better off now united as one country, rather than the separation of the two countries. Ending a war is so much more difficult, than entering a war. As a military man, career naval officer, I deplore war, it is destructive, and tears both sides apart with death, wounds that never heal, and young men and women who will never grow old gracefully. Recently, I walked through Arlington National Cemetery during a business trip to Washington, DC and viewed the rows upon rows of headstones, many set with Crosses, and the Star of David, separately identifying each by Religion, but uniting all in dedication and sacrifice - Many Gave Some, Some Gave All, but WE ALL FEEL THE LOSS.

My return to the Pacific was aboard the aircraft carrier, USS RANGER (CVA 61) in 1968/69 - the Vietnam War was ramping up, over 500,000 ground forces were deployed and 150 ships with over 150,000 Sailors operating in the straits between Vietnam and the Philippines. USS RANGER had deployed several times to Vietnam in was is called a WESTPAC CRUISE, i.e. western pacific cruise....most deployments lasted about 9 to 10 months, with over 5,000 men aboard the ship, and over 90 aircraft of all types, both jet and rotor propeller planes were aboard. We had five different air squadrons aboard each flying a different model aircraft, the most remembered are the F4 PHANTOM aircraft which was a fighter plane carrying bombs, napalm and could attack MIG aircraft which was flown by both the North Vietnamese, Chinese and probably even Russian pilots. One day during a routine launch, a F4 aircraft tied to the bridle was racing down the catapult track and the weight for the aircraft was not set correctly, or the engine malfunctioned, but when the plane reached the halfway point, the nose wheel collapsed causing the plane's nose to dip down and reducing airspeed. The pilot tried to pull out, but no time before the plane edged over the ship's bow, immediately, the rear copilot ejected, pulling the canopy ring, and exploded over 100 into the air with his parachute deploying, unfortunately, the pilot did not have time to release his canopy and the plane fell into to the water while the ship ran over the craft. I was standing on the catwalk which is a metal walk area just beneath the flight deck, and watched in horror as the plane slide under the ship with the pilot still alert, and waving his hands against the clear plastic canopy. The copilot's chute opened, and he came dangling down along the right side (starboard) of the ship island. I could have reached out to touch him, he was so close. He landed in the sea and started to drift along the side of the ship, when in an instant a recovery helicopter was at the stern of the ship to pick him up. He was rushed aboard, sent to sickbay for a checkup and returned in a dry flight suit.....he came by to visit with the crew, thanking everyone who assisted in his recovery. When I spoke with him, his skin was dyed a greenish yellow from the shark repellant and his hands burnt with blisters from the parachute harness. He was still in shock, and seemed to want to talk with anyone, and everyone....guess he was just happy to be alive. His roommate, and best friend, the Pilot not survive, nor was his body recovered. USS RANGER lost six pilots and seven aircraft in 10 months at sea, while conducting combat operations in Vietnam. One of my squadron planes landed with 38 small caliber bullet holes along the aircraft's side - the Vietnamese would lay in wait along the side of a hill for an airplane to fly close, and then 20 or 30 rifle men would start fighting to strike the plane down. Here are the names of the lost flyers - it is important to remember the names as individuals, and not statistics... LT (JG) David P. Neisler was killed in action, recently married in 1968, left a Mother, Father, and young Bride.

KILLED IN ACTION ABOARD USS RANGER

1968 - 1969

LCDR Michael Dunn

LCDR Gerald L. Ramsden

LCDR Richard O'Connell

CDR John H. Weaver

LT (jg) David P. Neislar

LT Norman E. Eidsmoe


Note: USS RANGER website for your information - http://www.uss-ranger.org/ every cruise lost pilots and planes.

1968/1969 years - Life at Sea and Home Aboard Ship

This time period was probably the most remembered because of my tour aboard USS RANGER, everyday and night aircraft would launch for targets in-country as North/South Vietnam was termed. When you first come aboard the aircraft carrier, it seems immense in size, everything is big, and getting from one end of the ship to the other is a strenuous and physically demanding feat. The ship is constructed in frame units, starting at the bow with frame 001, and progresses to the stern with over 400 frames, or more....actually I never really got to the end of the ship. I lived in a compartment about 20 x 30 feet with over 50 bunks, folded to two high, with some three high. As my luck would have it, I was on the top bunk, climbing up two bunks to get to my penthouse...I had a large heated water pipe running lengthwise over my bunk, and at night, I could hear the passing of water through the pipe when the showers were in use. The heat from the pipe was uncomfortable at first when we operated off the coast of Hawaii conducting pre-deployment ops - this is the time for pilots, plans and flight deck crews to work together, and get ready for a full operational deployment. After three weeks, we headed for the Western Pacific and the Philippines to replenish food, fuel, and take on ammunition/bombs. The transit to the Philippines was uneventful, days seem to run into nights, and after a few weeks most of the crew removes their watches because time loses all purpose...the ship routine takes over, the ship crew is split into two working groups, 'day check and night check about 50 percent work either 12 hours daily or 12 hours nightly....air operations are conducted around the clock, and the ship routine is based on 24 hour schedule. I had a dental appointment at 0200am and it seemed normal. After about a month at sea, the crew's life is centered on working, sleeping, eating and waiting for mail call. Letters, audio tapes and photos from home are so very welcomed. I would get a tape from Barbara Ann, my wife, and with an ear plug play it all night in my bunk. Many nights, I would use up the batteries, and awake with a dead ear piece in my head. Our living space shared with 40 other Sailors is setup for sleeping, each bunk had a draw curtain to afford a measure of privacy, and your gear was stowed beneath your bed mattress, the lid lifted up to display all your worldly belongings - strange what value we place on things when space becomes tight. After the first week aboard, the trash accumulates as little valued treasures are given way to no stowage space. Honesty is paramount when living in close quarters....one could leave their wallet on their bunk, with a watch, ring or other valuables while showering, and never have a theft. The unspoken law was if you steal, we will throw you overboard at night...scary set of values, but not unlike the old law of the West when they hung cattle rustlers on the spot...quick justice rules. Fortunately, we never had a thief so no one left the ship at night.

A SEA STORY WITH A FUNNY ENDING...

After about 10 weeks transit to the Philippines, we anchored in the harbor at Subic Bay, Philippines for rest and relaxation for three days. I was allowed one day/night liberty, and prepared to go ashore with a fresh, white uniform....back then; all Sailors on liberty had to be in uniform, and could not remain off the ship overnight. Liberty expired onboard at midnight for all hands. As I was walking from the ship pier side to the main gate, the Sailors grouped as we walked and talked about what we would be doing while on liberty. I was wearing a brand new pair of black shoes, spit shined, with a sharp new sole edge....this would cause me trouble in a moment. As we walked over the Olongapo Bridge entering town, a slight crack in the pavement unnoticed caught my left shoe edge, and suddenly tripped me off balance.

From an standing, upright position, I fell head first towards the bridge railing, I hit the lower round metal rung face first with my chin striking the steel with a force that drove my two front teeth completely trough my lower lip. There was little blood, but complete shock. I thought I had been struck with a baseball bat, but quickly realized that my lip was impaled on my front teeth and I could not pull away. The Sailor walking with me took one look as I rose to my feet, and upon seeing the injury and blood now trickling down my chin, suddenly collapsed and passed out cold - a crowd quickly gathered about him as he laid out on the ground with blood on this chest that dripped from my mouth. As the crowd gathered, I slipped away and continued towards town....I needed to have some liberty! Upon my return to the ship, I found out the Sailor was placed in Sick Bay for observation - they thought he had a heart attack. He never got to go on liberty in that port.

I went to a bar that our squadron had talked about gathering at and found several of my shipmates dancing, and drinking with the bar girls...I motioned for our Master Chief to come with me into the head (washroom) and showed him my injury, but could not speak...he quickly grasped my mouth and chin with both hands and pulled my lower lip down to release my two teeth. The lip started to swell, and there were two neatly placed teeth punctures through the lip.

Incidentally, I just checked the mirror and to this day I still have a scar both inside/outside of my lip after 45 years. Don't ask why I am relating this incident; it suddenly came to life as I started to recall my time aboard ship.

Life at sea is constantly changing - the loud speaker from the bridge announces news events, bells ring out the time, and the evening prayer is rendered by the ship's three Chaplains, i.e. Catholic, Protestant and Jewish Rabbi, each taking a nightly turn at the mike. At night the ship grows quiet, and sleepy below decks, but above on the flight deck it is a hum of activity with planes turning up, revving engines, and the constant banging of steel chains on the deck. All the planes must be tied down when not in motion due to the rolling of the ship, so chains are linked, and set to a plane, while others are unchained and slammed to the deck. During the recovery of aircraft, the four arresting cables are raised about two feet off the deck and the pilot lowers the tail hook to grab either the number 2 or 3 cable which are preferred....the planes land at full throttle in case of missed cable grab, the plane will have sufficient power to lift off the deck and go around for another try...after four failed attempts to land, the pilot will be directed to a bingo base ashore to land, and try the next day. Too stressful for both the pilot and crew to push to hard with more than four attempts. The two most dangerous times aboard ship is the take offs and landings....that is when an accident will happen most often.

AMERICA AT WAR... VIETNAM STILL FOR MANY AN UNFINISHED WAR

Early in 1964/65, Like most Americans, I fully supported our entry into Vietnam - the public read daily in the newspapers, and TV commentators that this was a war America had to undertake and Communism would be unstoppable unless we rushed to the aid and assistance of South Vietnam. In 1955, the US Government backed Ngo Dinh Diem as the new President of South Vietnam, and quickly the North and South Vietnamese forces were caught up in combat. The US ARMY provided field technical advisors to the South, and our first American deaths occurred as early as 1959 when the Viet Cong attacked Bien Hoa airbase and two American Soldiers were killed in combat. In 1961, President John F. Kennedy authorized the buildup of American Forces to train and assist the Vietnamese Forces, and we would return fire if fired upon. This was the turning point in America's acceptance of the war - we had a mission to assist a falling nation, and we felt our mission was noble and worthy. The fighting was not really newsworthy during the early 1960s, and with the death of President Kennedy the war in Vietnam took back page in our news and history but only for the moment. I recalled when President Kennedy was shot and killed in Dallas.....I had been out on the town the night before, and was awoken with the sad news by the Japanese houseboy in our barracks with his words...." A Cowboy killed Kennedy-San in Texas" I could not believe the words, and immediately put on the Armed Forces radio to hear the tragic event unfold with terrible details. The world was shocked and saddened as were the Japanese people....the world largely loved President Kennedy and for his time, he was a symbol of America, our hopes, our dreams and ambitions to bring the rest of the world closer to America. He told us we could go to the moon within the decade, and he was right! Most of the years between his death, the Presidency of Lyndon Johnson and his democratic administration is a blur, the one leader I recall at the time was Robert S. McNamara, Secretary of Defense - he promoted the escalation of America fighting forces, and guided the defense department throughout the Johnson administration, and until the war was lost in public opinion. What is the saddest of all, the Johnson Administration, specifically McNamara realized that the Vietnam War was not winnable as early as 1969, yet continued to foster troop buildup levels into the 1970s. This decision undoubtedly added 25,000 more names to the VIETNAM WALL in Washington DC. The nation was swept up with the Gulf of Tonkin incident on August 2, 1964 when it was reported that two US Navy ships, USS MADDOX was attacked by North Vietnamese gun boats....a second ship was reported attacked on 4 August. This incident was reported as fact in all the newspapers, but the facts were thinly veiled to promote a feeling of righteous indignation that an Asiatic country would have the gall to attack an American Man of War in the open waters of the Gulf of Tonkin. That was the battle cry heard daily on every TV channel and read in all the newspapers - North Vietnam government must be taught a lesson when dealing with the most powerful nation in the world. No one stopped to ask "Why not try Diplomacy as our first option?" But as Americans we are quick on the draw, and take no prisoners when dealing with either fact or fiction. Refer to website at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gulf_of_Tonkin_Incident for details on the incident.

The Gulf of Tonkin Resolution Congress approved August 7, 1964, and placed into the hands of President Johnson the means by which the President is allowed to commit ground forces to repel further attacks, and broadens the power to send America to war without the consent of the US Congress....that is what is so dangerous with a weaken administration, and a powerful emotional event confronting a nation - no one stops to slow down the process, discuss the options and look to the Constitution for safeguards to protect a nation from overreaction. World events can be dramatic, but the reaction to those events is longer lasting, sometimes generational in cost both human and financial. The American people continued to fully support the Vietnam War through the 1960s, and partly into the 1970s....but as early as 1965, the Students for a Democratic Society demonstrated in Washington DC, and most of the American People held the war critics in disdain as either un-American, un-Patriotic or ill informed - it was not until 1969, that over 250,000 war protesters demonstrated against the war in Washington DC that the newspapers started to publish daily photos, articles and leaned towards Student support for an end to the war. At the same time, 1969 the first draft of Americans was conducted and more troops were pledged to Vietnam support. I recall the death toll of killed in action at one time to be 20,000 with about 100 deaths weekly, this was very difficult to accept in the face of mounting disagreement with the war....American families were ripped apart with division over the war....I had a dear Friend who told me that he would rather leave America, go to Canada and never return than go to fight in South Vietnam - this really hit home because this is a person I grew up with, attended high school, and was just like me except he did not support the war. I told him we can never choose which war to fight, it is the luck of the generation to get caught up in a war not of our choosing, and I would rather serve and not desert America in a time of need. The saying "Right or Wrong, my Country' still holds value for me - America is a wonderful, beautiful country with so many cherished values and so many good things to be proud of in the world...many other people come to our shores seeking a new life, an opportunity to just live in freedom, and the Statue of Liberty whisper that opportunity to each new arrival to our country. But, even a country with all the promise and hopes of America and lose it's way along the long road of history....the problem is we are given options, choices to chose a form of government, a type of leadership, a political party to lead us in both the good and bad times. That is the rub....we vote, we surrender our individual voice to support our government, and then we seem to go to 'mental sleep' and let the forces to be within the government lead us on in a direction that we may or may not agree. What happened during the Vietnam was both good and bad...the horror of war can be seen in the photo of a Vietnamese little girl running down a road naked and burnt from a napalm attack, or the anguish of Kent State killings of our young on May 4, 1970, and if that were not enough to gag your consciousness, when I read of the My Lai murders of innocent civilians by Captain William Calley and other American troops broke my heart, and my spirit for support of the war. How could such a noble and honorable venture into South Vietnam turn so ugly, and painfully wrong in time? Yet, the war was continued into the 1970s, more death names would be readied for the Vietnam Wall yet to be visualized, and planned. Life in America went on with only occasional rising support for the war or utter disgust for the deaths of young Americans and the running cost. But again, it seemed there were two separate Americas - one was making money, going to college, getting married, and side stepping the draft, and never serving in the Armed Forces... for the marginal American, the National Guard service or other voluntary alternative service was an option to sit of the fence and wait out the war. But for thousands of other Americans, who continued to volunteer to serve, go to Vietnam and endure the pain of battle, their commitment remained strong with allegiance to America not to the Vietnam War. Strange how we can separate our Country from what our Country does in the world scene. The policy of mass daily booming with B52 aircraft flying from Wake Island in 1972 had immediate impact on the North Vietnamese government, the booming drove the US and North Vietnamese to the peace table in Paris which started the negotiations to end the war, and bring home our POWs in Operation Homecoming on February 12-27 1973 with over 591 being released by April 1, 1973.

The long nightmare was coming to an end....the years to follow even until today, has caused our Nation, and the world to rethink Vietnam - the causes, the effects and the gains and losses. I feel Vietnam is far better off now even with a single form of government and be it without war, than if we continued fighting a no win situation. Once a country enters a civil war mentality, and opposing forces side against each other there is no middle ground for America ...we lose either way be it Vietnam or Iraq. The will of the American People is best tested when we are threatened as a Country, there was never a dagger held to the heart of America in Vietnam, and the terrorist attack on 911 has proven to be not related to our goals in Iraq. As a Nation, we went to Vietnam, as Iraq for one set of reasons, stayed for other reasons, and will leave for yet different reasons. Somewhere along the way, we have lost our vision of America's role in the world stage. We are an honorable People with great pride in our Country, it's purpose, and history, but when a Nation chooses to go to War - it will be a long road home again, and life for many will never be the same again. I have no regrets regarding Vietnam, as fighting men and women we were ordered by the President of the United States to go to war, we went, we stayed, and we left when ordered home again. Military personnel do not have the luxury of choice, nor the option of choosing wars to fight...it is our form of government, Right or Wrong, still my Country.

This interview session ends with my tours of duty in the Pacific, I was advanced to Chief Petty Officer while on the USS RANGER, and upon return to home port, my new wife, BARBARA ANN HASTINGS nee Parkhill and I were transferred to the Naval Station, Roosevelt Roads at San Juan Puerto Rico. In 1969, I was promoted to Chief Warrant Officer, concurrently I was advanced to Master Chief Petty Officer (for pay purposes), and continued to advance in rank to full Lieutenant grade with selection to Lieutenant Commander, but elected to retire rather than commit to another sea tour aboard USS AMERICA...your Grandmother reminded me that now she had two Sailors at Sea...your Father, and myself, so I retired, and never looked back. In reality, I went on to work for the U.S. Navy for the next twenty years in a civilian capacity as the Director of Operations, Aegis New Construction Shipbuilding Program at Bath Iron Works Corporation, Bath, Maine.