From: Terry W. Colvin (fortean1@mindspring.com)
Date: Fri Jun 06 2003 - 00:45:45 MDT
Time and again during my 5 tours in SEA I watched while our military was denied
the right to fight the war as all wars should be fought. Unrestricted by
politicians at any level. Every operation in Laos had to have the pre approval
of the Ambassador, the State Dept, and the President. As a result of these
political decisions we lost LS-85 and the debacle known as Lam Son 719, and
ultimately all of SEA. Thousands died in SVN, more thousands in Laos, and more
than 1 million in Cambodia. May the Gods forgive them, for I can't.
I remember all too well a visit to Ambassador Sullivan's office with Gen Lendley
trying to get security personnel for our in country Tacan sites. His words, "We
are in a war, and you people fail to realize in war you must expect
casualties". Request denied. He then went on to state that he had it from a
very good source that we had armed men across the river, and if he verified it,
we would be yanked out immediately. I then told him yes we were armed, and gave
him a run down on the arms that we smuggled in labeled "Combat Essential
Electronics Equipment". I then asked him when we would be leaving. He then
screamed to Gen Lendley that I was crazy, and for him to get me out of his
office.
We never did get orders to leave. Sam Morrow, TLCB
----- Original Message -----
This tribute especially hits home because it vividly reflects the essence of the
SEA Vet's travail -- the deep love for our Brothers vs our anguish over the
disdain and outright hatred we encountered upon returning to the World. The
disdain from our "fellow citizens" was truly hurtful but, in truth, it was the
politicians who delivered the telling body blow.
The hatred we encountered from the civilian population -- if never forgiven --
can perhaps be understood-- the ignorance behind it, the desire to be popular by
adopting a "popular' cause, etc -- may give us some little tolerance for those
who castigated the returning Vet. But the politicians involved? Never.
There's an old Zen adage that I paraphrase here:
"do not hate and fear the tiger that tears your throat when you are thrust into
his domain; hate and fear he who has placed you there for his own
purpose..........."
Seamus
-----Original Message-----
Earl,
Got this off another net, a little late for Memorial Day, poignant but on the
money, especially with regard to "Patriots " that went on to be CEO's,
politicians etc.
Tom
This letter from F8 Crusader Pilot Dick Schaffert to his old roommate Norm Levy
is most appropriate for Memorial Day. I hope we all had someone like Norm in our
thoughts today, even if we could not express them as eloquently as did Dick.
Brown Bear sends:
To: LCDR Norm Levy
'Morning, Norm. It's Memorial Day, 07:29 Tonkin Gulf time. Haven't talked with
you in a while. Seems like a good day to make contact. It's
36 years and 5 months to the day since I last saw you, sitting on the edge of
your bunk in our room on the Oriskany. You remember, it was the 26th of October
1966. We were on the midnight schedule. There was a solid wall of thunderstorms
over the beach--with tops to
50K--but McNamara's Pentagon planners kept sending us on "critical" missions all
night.
At 04:00, they finally ran out of trucks to bomb--in that downpour--and we got a
little sleep. The phone rang at seven, you were scheduled for the Alert Five. I
had bagged a little mor! e rack time than you, so I said I'd take it. I went to
shave in the head around the elevator pit, the one near the flare locker. The
Ordies were busy putting away the flares. They'd been taking them out and
putting them back all night. I finished shaving and started back to our room
when the guy on the 1MC said: "This is a drill, this is a drill, FIRE, FIRE,
FIRE!" I smelled smoke and looked back at the door that separated the pilot's
quarters from the flare locker. Smoke was coming from underneath. I ran the last
few steps to our room and turned on the light. You sat up on the edge of your
bunk. I shouted at you: "Norm, this is no drill. Let's get the hell out of
here!" I went down the passage way around the elevator pit, banging on the metal
wall and shouting: "It's no drill. We're on fire! We're on fire!" I had rounded
the corner of that U-shaped passage when the flare locker exploded. There was a
tremendous concussion effect that blew me out of the passage way and into t! he
hangar deck. A huge ball of fire was rolling along the top of the hangar bay.
You and forty-five other guys, most of them Air Wing pilots, didn't make it,
Norm. I'm sorry. Oh, God, I'm sorry! But we went home together--Norm Levy, a
Jewish boy from Miami, and Dick Schaffert, a Lutheran cornhusker from Nebraska.
I rode in the economy class of that Flying Tigers 707, along with the other
surviving pilots. You were in a flag-draped box in the cargo compartment. The
San Diego media had found out about the return of us "Baby Killers."
Lindberg Field was packed with scum enjoying the right to protest. The "right"
you died for! There was a bus, with our wives, waiting for us VF-111 Sundowners;
there was a black hearse for you. The protestors threw things at the bus and
your hearse, not a policeman in sight. When we finally got off the airport, they
chased us to Fort Rosecrans. They kept interrupting your graveside service,
until your honor guard of three brave you! ng Marines with M-16's convinced them
to stay back.
I watched the TV news with my children that night, Norm. Sorry, the only clips
of our homecoming were the Baby Killer banners and the one of the burned girl,
which they played nightly for 8 years. It was tough to explain that to four
pre-teenaged kids. You know how it went, Norm. The scum were the heroes--they
went on to be CEO's, who stole from our companies--lawyers, who preyed off our
misery--doctors, who we can't afford--and elected politicians, who broke the
faith and the promises.
The only military recognized as "heroes" were the POW's. They finally came home,
not because of some politician's expertise; but because there were those of us
who kept going back over Hanoi, again and again. Dodging the SAM's and the flak,
attacking day and night, keeping the pressure on--all by ourselves! Absolutely
no support from anyone else! Many of us didn't come home, Norm. You know, the
guys that are up there with you ! now. But it was our "un-mentioned" efforts
that brought the POW's home. We kept the faith with them, and with you, Norm. It
never really ended. We seemed to go directly from combat into disabled
retirement and poverty, ignored by those whose freedoms we insured by paying the
very high premium. The only thing many of us have left is our memories, Norm. We
hold those dear! We band together in groups like the Crusader Association. Some
might say that has to do with flying a peculiar aircraft, I say it has to do
with a peculiar bunch of guys. We'll all be joining you shortly, Norm. Put in a
good word for us with the Man. Ask him to think of us as His peacemakers, as His
children. Have a restful Memorial Day, Norm. You earned it.
Your Roomie, Brown Bear
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-- Terry W. Colvin, Sierra Vista, Arizona (USA) < fortean1@mindspring.com > Alternate: < fortean1@msn.com > Home Page: < http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Stargate/8958/index.html > Sites: * Fortean Times * Mystic's Haven * TLCB * U.S. Message Text Formatting (USMTF) Program ------------ Member: Thailand-Laos-Cambodia Brotherhood (TLCB) Mailing List TLCB Web Site: < http://www.tlc-brotherhood.org >[Vietnam veterans, Allies, CIA/NSA, and "steenkeen" contractors are welcome.]
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