The Spartans, Circa 1970, Surface for an Encore.
In a seldom used corner, of a not frequented room, stands a photograph. It doesn’t have a frame, just a scratched plastic cover. It’s tucked informally into the bookshelf on a space-permits basis. It’s unpretentious and undemanding. It can withstand years of neglect and inattention. It never complains.
The photo is slightly out of focus. It’s beginning to fade. A liquid stain of unknown origin dribbles statically across the bottom right corner. The setting is one of any hot, hazy, sticky, muggy, eye-squinting days in Bien Hoa, Vietnam.
In the photo, exactly 26 young men lounge in various stages of casual repose on and around a UH-1 Helicopter. Their average age is probably…21, maybe 22. These men (kids, really) are, “The Spartans.” They are the second flight platoon, 190th Assault Helicopter Company, Spartans, First Aviation Brigade. I flew with most of them. I knew them all.
I bring them to your attention nearly 40-years later because, they deserve an encore. As I look at their faces, some, I don’t remember. Some, I recognize, but can’t recall their names. For other’s, oh yes, for others, I can recall their smallest mannerisms. Their smile, favorite phrase, music, or the way they lit, or flipped away a cigarette. They’re all lean, fit, and impervious to danger.
Still, not all the Spartans are present. Michael Hatfield, a fellow pilot, is missing, killed on a morning reconnaissance outside the airfield boundaries, shot down—as was the Medivac helicopter dispatched to extract him. His wife never remarried—to this day. The night before he was killed, Mike and I stayed awake late, talking about the future, what we’d do when we got back to, “The World”, and his newly born son.
A gunner–a crewmember who sits in the back and mans the M-60 machine gun–named Graves is not in the photo. If I ever knew his first name, I don’t recall it now. Graves was killed on the Two Corps/Three Corps border flying a mission I no longer remember. Some sort of search and rescue I think. I have a hazy memory that it may have been a false alarm…for everyone but Graves and his family.
The sad part, really, is that much of this is forgotten. The pressing reasons we were there, no longer matter, overcome by everything from iPods to Iraq. I wonder if 5 of 10 people picked at random could find Vietnam on a map—much less give you two sentences about its history. After so much blood and anguish, the irony is, it was so important then, so unimportant now.
But, that wouldn’t matter to these folks. Lincoln may have expressed it for the Nation at Gettysburg, but, I can assure you, these guys wouldn’t consider themselves, “honored dead.” Hearing that, they’d laugh outright. They’d just see themselves as dead. Plain and simple. Unvarnished, unpoetic, unclean, and unnecessarily dead.
But the ones that are in the photo hold my attention, too. What happened to them? Dead? Alive? Prosperous? Broke? Successful? Failure? Killed in some silly accident after surviving all those dangers? Or, are they destined to die peacefully in bed at age one hundred? I’ll never know. They’re all sixty or better now. Hard to believe. In my mind’s eye, they look exactly as you see them in the photograph. Frozen and youthfully smiling.
I did meet with a couple of the guys not too long ago. Dave Coons, was my first crew chief. I flew with David nearly every day, as a new aircraft commander. Dave made it his responsibility to ensure I stayed out of trouble. (I out-ranked Dave, but, he’d been ‘in-country’ for 6 months when I got there. I must have looked lost instead of tough; he knew I needed watching.) Last I heard, Dave’s working for the Army National Guard in Utah. I also met Curtis Loop, then a Captain and the Operations Officer. He was smart and personable. When I saw him about five years ago, he was a retired General. I’m not surprised.
Then, there’s Randy Score, my second crew chief. Randy and I aren’t in the photo; we were out flying…hey, someone had to do the work. Randy died suddenly a couple of years ago. Heart attack. He was mid-fifties. Fortunately, we’d corresponded. Randy had seen my first book, and through it, traced me. Randy gave me the idea to write him, Dave, and the Spartans, into the second book, Betrayal. Randy read his section and thought it was great. Typical Randy. In the book, I blow him up in a helicopter crash. Only his boots remain—with feet, I might add. His, “Alright, cool!” reaction makes me smile even now.
So, what’s the point? Well, your past has unique writing material you may have not considered, no matter your age. If you shine your emotional light deep enough into the shadows, you’ll find relationships, events, adventures, and people that can not only appear in your work, but deepen and enrich it in a way research can’t. You lived these events. You can still see, hear, smell, and feel most of them. They may be your most fertile ground for growing strong, dynamic characters, scenes, and chapters. Don’t be afraid to look in those dusty corners. You may have a Michael, Dave, Randy–or group of Spartans–ready to help. It can be powerful, powerful stuff. Don’t be afraid to look. Sometimes, the folks you surface, might deserve an encore.
Thanks for stopping by, Galen, Spartan 20.
Themocracy
I think it is a lovely post, Galen.
Not an American, so everything I know about the Vietnam War is what I read about it. And while, with the benefit of hindsight and my pacific views, I may feel that the Joan Baezes had a point, the people I most admire are the people (kids as you call them), who fought not because they understood why they were being asked to fight but because they could do no other. After displaying that much bravery, it is sad how they are now being chastised for fighting a ‘wrong’ war.
Salute,
Natasha
Great post Galen. Although I was lucky enough (or unlucky enough, depending on your perspective) to not have any battle experience, I still to this day have green blood, thanks to the US Army. Too often people forget all the soldiers who die elsewhere. Only their family and friends understand. I’m glad though, that you were able to at least correspond with some of your fellow soldiers, build memories that will remain in your mind’s eye for some time.
Exceptional Write!!
Am looking for pictures/information of Capt. John P. Bryant(1969-1970) Pilot.
He is currently a Medical Doctor-my Primary Care Physician.
Thank you
L. B. Sanford
Nice to read anything on this outfit.
Flew with the company from Nov. 68 to Nov. 69.
Call sign “Spartan 14″.
Knew some really good people,,, Lost a few too.
High point I guess was to fly President Nixon’s
primary secret service guards during his visit
that year.
And to make it home of course.
Sure would like to know of any other contact sites
that may be out there for this time frame.
Thanks
I was a crewchief with the 190th 70 to 71 .My chopper was smokey 619er, the old smoke ship.I was in the 2nd flight platoon.I can see most faces and can not remember most names now.I flew that mission where Graves got killed,we were helping the 1st cav look for a downed general`s chopper.while in the mountains looking, we started taking fire and graves chopper turned to go after and return fire and he go hit. that was the longest and quietest flight a think we ever had.There wasn`t much talking like usual after a mission. He was a good men but the 190th had all good men {kids} because that was what we all were, I was only 19 just out of high school.
would like to hear from some of the crews woodrocker@roadrunner.com
Hi Galen,
What a surprise to see this wonderful photo. I served in the Spartans and Gladiators as well. I was there with Michael was killed too, so we were in the unit at the same time. I served from Sept ’69 to May of ’70, didn’t make the whole year. I recognise two of the people in the photo, one of them was my best friend at the time, the other a great frined on my second tour after the cease fire was signed. I turned 21 on my first tour, and was regarded as an old man at the time. I have very few photos of this tour, and wonder if you might have any others. I would be happy to swap what I do have. We were in one of the best, most professional units in RVN. I thought it was a great honour when we were awarded the patch across the top of the First Avaition badge that said ‘Presidents Choice’. Lots of memories, both good and bad, but what a great bunch of guys. Thanks for your posting. rrguay.6@bigpond.com for any other vets from the Spartans or Gladiators.