Next stop Vietnam, 90th Replacement Battallion

I enjoyed my leave time after I graduated with 5th WOC and even though I knew my next stop was to be Vietnam, it seemed to be an afterthought. I don't recall a single time that I felt fear or anything remotely connected to fear, during the days leading up to my departure. As an oddity that might be connected to those feelings, I decided to leave a few days early for California as I had an invitation from Mike Morris who was my cubical partner from day 1 of school to graduation day. He was from Northridge and promised a great tour of the California lifestyle if I would come a few days before we were to leave for Nam.

I remember the approach to Los Angeles and the impression I had of how big it was. When I left the plane and was headed to the main terminal building, there was Mike waving his arm and smiling like a kid with a trick up his sleeve. We immediately left the airport and went directly to his Mom's house where I put on civilian clothes and we hit the streets.

We met with Steve Eide a little later and after a few minutes of talking about our newly found status as Warrant Officers and Army Aviators, Steve briefed us on the plan to report to Travis Air Force Base in Oakland for our departure. We were to fly in a corporate jet that his father flew for a Fortune 500 Company. Since it was hangered in Burbank in the same hanger that Johnny Carson's jet was, we began to have a certain degree of enthusiasm about it.

After making note of the departure day two days later, Mike told me it was time for my "Cajun Ass" to see what the real world was like in California. He told me that we were going to a place called the May Company. He explained that it was the largest mall in the free world and that every good looking California girl went there to shop.

After a short drive, the two of us were sitting on a short concrete wall between the mall and the walkways that were next to the entrance. Mike was right. there seemed to be a never ending line of the most beautiful girls you could imagine. We did some girl watching as did the girls but the military hair cuts must have been a negative thing as they more or less avoided us and despite smiles and a wave or two, they just passed us by and we didn't meet a single one.

After a cross country flight and our trip to the mall, it was getting close to supper time and Mike's mom had mandated a home cooked meal for her boy. I was more than a little happy to see that as we had been burning both ends of the candle during our last few days in the United States and a home cooked meal fit the bill perfectly.

The next morning marked my first full day in California and my last full day before we left for Vietnam. We took a hard run to each of the places Mike wanted to show me and I'd like to say, it was one hell of a tour. It seemed that California girls didn't have alot of interest in wearing alot of clothes and that most of them were dressed in the "Ready for the Beach" attire of the day.

As the day was coming to an end, Mike and I were sitting at a small club that was located at the Beach, drinking a beer and listening to music. I thought that we would be hearing the Beach Boys but the one song that struck me was, "The Girl From Eponema" (SP). Palm trees, sand, perfect weather and temperature left me with a vision that I can see today when I close my eyes and think back on that last day. There were no get drunk, raise hell and go naked parties in place that I knew about. We ended up staying at Mike's house and visiting with his Mom, an Uncle and a couple of close friends.

The next morning, Mike wanted to eat breakfast at one of his favorite hang outs and that's where we went after bidding his family good bye. When we finished that, we went to Burbank and reported to the hanger where Johnny Carson's jet was located. We met Steve Eide there and he showed us the jet we would be flying to Travis/San Francisco. It was the most beautiful thing with wings I'd ever seen. I recall it to be a BH 125 that was described to us as a Hawker Sidley or Dehavilland.

We saw Johnny Carson's jet and a few other planes there and I was most impressed to be there. While the jet was being pulled out of the hanger, Steve's Dad explained that our flight would be a short one with 3 stages. He invited us to draw straws as he had decided to let each of us be the co pilot on one of each 3 stages which consisted of take off and climb out, enroute flying and then approach.

I don't remember which one of the boys picked take off and climb out or the approach section but I clearly remember that I had the enroute portion and I was thrilled that I was going to get some front seat time regardless of the section it would be in.

During the start up procedure where both jet engines were spooling up to speed, I realized that the similarity between the sounds of these jet engines and the ones we had been using for months, was almost the same sound. That sound stimulated the feeling that pilots have when they hear the music that they make.

When we took off from Burbank, I realized that this was a completely different world than the 80 knot helicopters we'd been flying. When we reached our cruising altitude, it was my turn to fly and I made it to the front seat and before I even sat down and buckled up, I was amazed by the instrument panel and the multitude of gauges that existed there. Most of all, I noticed a navigation box at the top of the instrument panel and I asked Mr. Eide what it was.

He explained that it was a "Flight Director" that would allow him to pre program his entire flight into it and that it, when slaved to the auto pilot, would do the climb out, intersection intercept, enroute course and altitude and then a portion of the approach.

I was blown away by it and couldn't believe, that during our Huey transition, all we had accomplished was the ability to fly something that could hover and speed up to 80 knots while this missile was a far cry from what we had just completed. Mr. Eide, being the gentleman that he was, simply said: "We can't hover like you guys can". It was a great comment and it came just before my enroute flight time was over and I had to give my seat up to who ever drew the approach end.

From the passenger seat, I leaned over and looked out of the cockpit wind screen and saw San Fransico International's main runway. In no time at all, we'd landed, taxied to the Fixed Base Operator and deplaned this incredible Lear Jet looking beauty. After a few hugs, pats on the back and well wishes from Steve's Daddy, we got in a cab and began the short trip to Travis Air Force Base. We knew this was it.

We went through a customs style inspection and presented our boarding passes/orders to Vietnam and sat down until the remaining troops arrived. When they did, we boarded a Tiger Airlines DC8 that had been contracted to fly us to Vietnam via Hawaii and Wake Island.

There were lots of guys on board and several, already having done a tour in Vietnam, were stretching to look out of their windows. As we began our take off roll many of them were saying: "Good bye World, see you again". Soon after that we were airborne and the DC8 became very quiet. Many knew that there would be alot of them that wouldn't be making the return trip. The cabin became pretty quiet as we passed the beach and headed out over the Pacific and remained so until the vision of the West Coast left us.

Before long we were at our cruising altitude headed toward Hawaii. I looked out the window and saw the wake of a large ship as it headed westward on the same course we were flying. For some reason, I thought I'd seen that sight before and I began to think that it was a memory from the past even though I'd never flown the Pacific of Atlantic at that time. I wondered if I'd seen this in another life as a fighter pilot fighting in World War II. At the time, I didn't think that was an odd thought at all.

As we approached Hawaii, it started to rain but it wasn't so bad as the turbulence was acceptable to those of us who had become accustomed to it in helicopters. When we landed in Hawaii, we pulled up to our refuel point and noticed that it was close to a military Quonset hut. When a few of the guys asked why we couldn't get out and have a sandwich, one of the guys said:" You aren't here, you don't exist, that's why".

About that time, the rain really hit and so did the wind and lots of lightning. The aircraft was shaking back and forth as it was being refueled and resupplied with the sandwiches and drinks that sustained us during our flight. We began to hope that the flight would be cancelled because of the monsoon type storm that we'd obviously flown into but unfortunately for us, the war didn't care about the weather. We spooled up the 4 engines and began our taxi to the runway for takeoff.

I couldn't believe that we were taking off in the midst of this monster weather cell. As soon as we lifted off the runway, the aircraft began to shake from the turbulence. As we climbed, it worsened. It shook so badly that it caused a twisting motion of the fuselage that caused many of the over head storage lockers to open with all the baggage falling down on the guys sitting in the seats below them. I'll admit, when the lightning hit us, I was scared to pieces.

Once we climbed out the mess, we began a somewhat smooth cruise to Wake Island. Around sun up of that morning, the Captain announced that we were beginning our approach to Wake and the we would be given a few minutes on the ground. I was thankful for that until I saw the size of Wake Island out of my window. I remember thinking how little it was and that it appeared that there was nothing there except a small terminal building. Despite that, I was glad to get out of the DC8 when we pulled up to the terminal building.

Despite the short stop, I remembered all the things I'd read about the battles that took place around this part of the Pacific and realized that, in a sense, I was standing on hallowed ground. We were called to board and quickly re boarded the DC8. Not long after that, we were off in clear weather and began our last leg to Long Binh Air Force Base. It didn't seem to take very long as most of us did some sleeping on that route of the flight and before we knew it, the Captain announced that Vietnam was on the horizon and that he was beginning his descent for landing.

The landscape was covered with bomb craters. I didn't know it at the time but our aircraft passed very close to Xuan Loc where, a few days later, I would receive my baptism of fire. When we landed, an A 37 pilot who was taxing back to his revetment area with his cockpit in the "up" position, stood up and saluted us. I'll never forget that gesture.

After exiting the plane, we were put in Army buses who's windows were covered with wire. When I asked what that was about, one of the guys said: "So the dinks do throw a grenade in here and kill all our asses". After a brief trip through the village, we arrived at the 90th Replacement Battalion and reported as ordered.

I'll stop here as I'm running out of energy. I hope you guys that have made that trip enjoyed the trip down memory lane. I'll be back on this as soon as I can. Stand by.