A Vietnam Retrospective
PART 6
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On October 21, 1970 we flew CA's all day and during one of them, out west of San Juan Hill, the slick gunner Woodard got shot in the leg and went home. The next day, October 22, I wrote in my day-date diary, "I'm 22 years old today." I had underlined old.
On November 3, I was flying with Doug Doers when we lost all fuel pressure on a combat assault
out of LZ Snoopy. We'd been doing re-supplies up in the mountains all day before that
occurred. We got back OK. On November 11 Jim Kinne got shot up on the "Horseshoe" River
and his pilot, Mark Stefan got the one-way fare home with bullet wounds to his foot or leg.
Kinne had shrapnel in his hand but stayed on and kept flying.

November 1970 WO1 Shark Mark Stefan
It was after this incident that CW2 Jeff Zavales approached me in Rosenthal's and Neuner's
bunker (the "Cave") and asked me if I was interested in going to the Sharks. I guess I'd
been there long enough and seen enough shit that he and Captain Ackerman felt I had the
temperament for it. I'd flown with some great A/C's: John 'Beetle' Bailey, Jim Call (he'd
flown slicks, scouts and guns in two years duty), Chuck Strumpke (a great pilot, but what an
asshole), Jack Dotterer, Dennis Casey, Floyd King and Dennis McCabe. I'd even flown as Major
Fred Blackburn's peter pilot during the bulk of the Kham Duc operation in late July where
Blackburn was the C&C for the entire 14th Aviation Battalion.
Jeff Zavales didn't have to ask me twice.
 Above: CW2 Jeff Zavales- "My Shark Mentor".
I had my gear moved into Mark Stefan's room before the cot cooled off. I absolutely hated
'hover holes' during deep jungle resupplies, and hot CA's gave me the willies, not to mention
the nightmares that accompany life as a slick driver. I would grow to love the shooting we got
to do in the Sharks. Every day in the Sharks made me appreciate the total HEROICS of the
slick drivers.
Stefan's room was a righteous little cubicle, right next to Bruce Marshall's palatial room.
Bruce was the Club Officer and he had all the toots' n' whistles that the position came with.
He hired and fired the club ladies that every man in the unit was in love with, at one time or
another. He made sure the club was stocked with the right booze, mixers, snacks and sodas.
His room maintained the same stock, to include a civilian type bed with box spring, mattress,
and head and footboard. He had a reel-to-reel tape deck, hi-fi stereo, and a strobe light for
atmosphere.
I'd moved into heaven.

Both the above photos are around the time when I
was invited to "Guns" (Sharks).
It was also about this time that Gary Werner and Gary Harter got assigned to the Sharks from
a gun platoon down south (Thunderchickens, Charlie-model guns) that stood down and were going
home. Werner hung out with Dennis Casey as they were flight school classmates and getting
short. Gary Harter and I kinda hit it off as he was from California (as was Casey) and I
had music. Gary's Dad had a stereo installation shop back in the world. I had a 12 volt,
4-track car stereo with the best rock and roll California had to offer. The guys from
California generally weren't quite ready for the steady flow of country music that the
mid-western guys played.
Second platoon pilot, CW2 Pete Goodnight, was from my hometown and his younger brother had
been killed in an auto accident down in San Diego in early September. When he went home on
emergency leave to attend the services, he had dinner with my Mom and brought back my 4-track
tapes and the auto stereo. What a Pal!
Even though I was still a "new guy," my stock in the platoon rose a little as Bruce Marshall
and I had a way of getting a party off the ground with music and bourbon. I had a small, bar
type refrigerator, an electric fan and tunes. Life was good. I was refining my taste for Jim
Beam and 7-Up which was readily available.
I had no wife, girlfriend or real family connections to the world. I could have stayed in Duc
Pho a long time. My Mom had been in the military and she not only knew the value of a care
package, she spared no expense in putting them together and made sure I received them at a
rate of nearly two a week.
You can never properly repay someone for such a consistent expression of pure devotion and
love. If I never realized it before, there was absolutely no doubt just how much my Mom
loved me. I received the best you could get and got enough to share with my buddies. Canned
meats, fresh cookies, and stateside bread. This also endeared me to the Shark crews, like Bud
Vann, who had been the crewchief on Triple Nickel until it was DX'ed in early December. The
pilot responsible for that aircraft had been Mark Stefan until he was shot. When I came over
to replace him, I got Triple Nickel.

My first assigned Shark Gunship- "Triple Knickle" a/o "Maltese Cross" (UH-1C 65-09555).
The top left is an aerial shot of her. The others are of Bob Millius loading the massive 19 shot rocket pods
and connecting contacts (at Duc Pho "re-arm).
All photos 22 Nov 1970.
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End of Part 6 of 20 Parts.
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