My Hero

41 years ago today a CH-47 Chinook helicopter, 64-13116 assigned to the 243^rd Freight Train was hovering over its eleventh sling load of the day. They were resupplying Korean firebases in the area surrounding Phu Hiep, RVN. The canvas rings for 3 loads - fuel, water and boxed items weighing 3 tons was slipped onto the hook. A young FE, who had just turned 20 called the load up and off the ground. At 30’ the loads all cleared and the helicopter continued to rise until the loads were at 50’.

After a hover check the copilot began his takeoff, but at transition to flight around 100’ off the ground the #2 engine failed. Rotor rpms dropped and the helicopter began settling back toward the earth. The pilot took control; the young FE punched the loads free with the aircraft still 60’ in the air and then the #1 engine began to fail. The aircraft lurched forward and took a nose high attitude. Unable to maintain control of the aircraft or altitude the helicopter hit a 9’ high berm making up part of the base’s perimeter and at the same time the aft rotors struck fence posts on the berm causing the blades to separate from the ship. At that point the aft section of the aircraft became airborne and pivoted around the forward rotor system. The helicopter hit the ground on its right side just inside the perimeter wire setting off claymore mines and flares. It caught fire instantly.

The pilot, copilot and crew chief were able to exit the right side cockpit door followed by the door gunner. It’s believed that the Flight Engineer and the only passenger, a Korean Liaison officer, were thrown to the back of aircraft when the nose rose after #1 failed. They were not seen by anyone after the impact. Fire completely consumed the entire aircraft in five minutes or less.

After analyzing the remains of the engines it was determined that the cause of the #2 stoppage was the failure of a small 2 to 3 inch drive shaft  inside the fuel control module and that the aircraft was outside of the flight limitations for recovery on a single engine (something that was done on a regular basis - usually without any consequences).

The young 20 year old Flight Engineer was my friend, Steven Kearns. He had joined the company as a maintenance tech about three months into my tour . We shared a number of things, not the least of which was a desire to fly in the worst way. As a team leader I taught him as much as I could – unfortunately he wasn't assigned to my team. Steven was a hard worker, putting in time and effort well beyond most of the other guys. When I moved to the TI shack we didn't get to see as much of each other, but I knew when I was checking out his team’s work on one of the aircraft that it was going to be done right!

Steven wasn’t all just business, he joined with all the guys taking time off to party or just have a good time. But there were never any excuses; he was always there the next morning ready to go!  That cheshire like grin and curly hair just kinda lit up your day.  We would occasionally talked of home – he was from Massachusetts and was looking forward to getting back there as soon as possible. He finally made it into the flight platoon as a crew chief and he was a damn good one. He crewed for me many times and I always knew I could depend on him to do a good job – the first time. As a Flight Engineer he was top notch, it was in his character. Do whatever you have to do! An example of that was one afternoon a helicopter crashed on landing at our airstrip. He was working on his ship on our flight line when it happened. He was the first guy there and he and another Freight Trainer pulled the pilots from the wreckage with no regard for their own safety. For that he was awarded the Bronze Star. That’s the kind of young man Steven Kearns was. On that fateful day in 1971 he exhibited that same character; he stayed his post and did his job without regard for his own safety.

I was back in states on extension leave when the accident occurred. I was devastated, it couldn’t happen, it didn’t happen! Once back in country I talked with everybody I could. I just didn’t believe it. Phu Hiep was a regular run for my ship, and I found out from a guy working in Ops that if I’d been there it would have been my ship’s rotation slot. To this day I can’t reconcile that…

Just last year I finally got up the courage and resolve to meet his family, his mother and two sisters – Nancy and Sue. To this day I have the note his mother so graciously wrote back in ’71 tucked away in a safe place. And I have Steven with me every day. In forty years I could count on one hand the number of days he did not cross mind, that I did not thank him for his sacrifice, that I did not wonder “what if I’d been there instead”…

If you ever have the opportunity to visit the Massachusetts Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial you’ll find his name carved in one of the stone obelisks. And you can also find a replica of a letter he wrote home in November of ’70 – one of a very few chosen to be a part of the memorial. 

In the grand scheme of things, his sacrifice may not seem like much… but to me and a number of his “buddies” in the 243^rd it is… We all knew what the possibilities were and yet we dedicated our time and efforts to getting the job done and done right. Unfortunately not all of us made it through.

As solemn an occasion as I would like this to be I also think it would be befitting as a celebration; a celebration of the commitment of my generation, despite all the chaos, to our country, to our freedom, to our families, to our friends and to ourselves. We were prepared to give all and some of us were called upon to fulfill that commitment.

Steve, buddy, rest in peace… you are MY hero and deserving of much, much more.

Loads clear…

For All It was a Life Changing Experience

It’s been a while since I posted anything on the blog. Another one of my passions has been taking up my time. I was busy building a web site and no that’s not a passion of mine. I was truly surprised how relatively easy it was to put together. With a little trial and error and a lot of organization I think it turned out pretty well. Why shouldn’t I – I made it…LOL But that’s not what I want to write about. The site was for the 243rd ASHC – the Chinook helicopter company I served with during the first part of my tour in Vietnam – a bunch of guys I really grew up with and have the greatest amount of admiration for.

Once I made the commitment I began pulling stuff together to make them part of the site. I spent countless hours reviewing nearly 1000 pictures of guys I knew, guys I had heard about, aircraft I flew on or repaired, loads like the ones my ship carried, where we worked, where we partied, some LZs that I recognized and some I did not, the places where we lived and the places where a few of us died. I read names that I know, names that I think I know and many that I don’t know. I’ve read a number of magazine articles, government documents and personal histories. Viewed a few hours of video and listened to audio recordings.

Countless times a name or picture would appear that would trigger memories that are 40+ years old. Maybe a little gray, maybe a little out of focus but real enough. To be honest more than their share brought tears to my eyes and sadness to my heart, but then the next a laugh and a smile. Most however still bring a certain curiosity – where is he now? Has he survived coming home as well as he did being there? I know I am one of the lucky ones, no disabilities, no health problems from orange, no debilitating emotional issues. On the first page of the site I wrote, “Some “gave all” and did not return, for some it was their only military experience, for some it was part of their chosen career – for all it was a life changing experience.” More seem to have suffered more dearly from their tours than others.

Listening to the sounds and watching the pictures stream across the screen had a dramatic effect. Seeing helicopters like mine do the work we did, the expertise of the pilots and crews and knowing all of the support it took to get them there. And oddly enough the sounds, the sounds of a CH47 at startup, at flight rpms, SAS check, of lifting a load… they seem to have had the most affect. I would replay a video, close my eyes, just listen and be transported back 40 years. I could smell the exhaust of the APU and then the turbine engines while standing out behind the ship at startup. I can still remember my ship’s sounds, the forward and aft transmission whines and grinds, the slap of the blades through the heavy air. I memorized them and if they changed while we were in the air I knew there might be problems. I knew which gear was soft, how fast the hook would engage or disengage, how much swing and sway she would take from a load, what snapped and popped and whined and wheezed – just like my first car.

I tried desperately to banish the emotionalism, the personal involvement by making it like a stroll through my high school annual. But there is no connection, no link, no comparison. There is something about being with a bunch of guys whose lives depend on you and whom you depend upon. It’s not like we all sat down, held hands and recited passages from the Bible or the maintenance manual or whatever. There seems to be an inherent realization of what’s expected from you and what you must offer. Nobody asks can you? Will you? You do your damndest to get it done, you don’t think first, no hesitation, it just gets done. Everyone, in my case, is in the same helicopter – damn right “I” want to survive so I will do everything I can to make that happen – everyday! And if I do, everyone else will and that works every time, right? Not always… I lost a good friend who stayed too long doing his “job” to try and save his aircraft. All of the crew survived but him. That same feeling exists today for each of them, whatever it takes I'm willing to help - call me, I'm there.

There is something about the vulnerability that you have in life, to trust it to someone you just met a week ago, in a situation where your possibility of survival is severely limited - that establishes an enduring bond. That bond is shared across the board – makes no difference if you were in a foxhole at the Bulge or a hot LZ in II Corp or taking fire in Afghanistan. Not everyone has been there, not everyone has faced the initial fear, not everyone has had the resolve to do what needed to be done. Those that have, have earned their place, deserve their place in my heart and the hearts of other “veterans”. Beyond that, those who gave their lives in places like Lexington, Saratoga, Bull Run, Belleau Wood, the Argonne, Midway, Anzio, Normandy, Iwo Jima, Pusan, Inchon, Dak To, Khe San, Grenada, Kuwait, Bosnia, Somalia, Kandahar, Fallujah, Basra and countless other battlefields of the past and those yet to be named all have and will have a special place.

There are few people in my life that I could honor by describing them as my hero. I have named every man I served with in Vietnam to that list as well as every man and woman who has served this country in the armed forces in an effort to protect our freedom and sovereignty. Not everyone will understand what I’ve written or feel, not everyone has experienced what I have, not everyone will care, not everyone….