Oregon 902

I found a collection of photos showing guys in Salem, Oregon, preparing one of the Oregon Army National Guard's Mohawks for its move to the Evergreen Air Museum in 2002. This aircraft is on display there now, and we will see it on Friday, September 26, when we visit the museum during the Association's 2008 Reunion in Portland.

Check out the Oregon Trail Chapter page for the entire collection.  Also take a look at the Army Aviation Association of America's website.

Our "Home Away From Home"

John Ferguson sent some great pictures to me, including these of the Company Area.  Remember how luxurious Phu Hiep was?  Enjoy.....

The Last Time I Saw Her

by Jim Thomas

Like a butterfly in flight that special someone from eons ago came dancing across my mind, wrenching control of my thoughts to drag dusty old memories and feelings from the shelter of their caves and leave them naked on the beach of my consciousness. Old tormented memories from an emotional goodbye suffered almost forty years ago that stopped you like a two by four between the eyes and left you feeling like a whiskey-front had taken a week or two to move on past. She had been the one most dear to my heart in a long line of dears and I had known she could not always be stored away in that do not touch part of the mind.

This special someone had once stood by me and journeyed with me through the tough times. She had seen me at my finest and my worst, never complaining and always giving her best. Never once did she let me down as she followed my journey of high-speed youth. No one could have asked for more but destinies are not always the same and I moved on to conquer the world. Eventually, the memory of her was safely buried deep under a mountain of others. Well, I thought it was safely buried.

Now the memory had changed from an occasional pang of hurt to a festering wound and needed rapid resolution. The sophomoric idea of finding her tugged at my heart until my mind surrendered the idea, kicking and screaming with words of caution and examples of past failures. Mind over matter looks good on paper and in the books but history has proven that the mind is no match for confrontations with the heart.

But how does one go about finding that lost love from the foggy swamp of the past? I began my questionable quest with email to folks that had known both of us. Several responses were not bashful in their description of my mental state and my lack of having a meaningful purpose in life. There were many hours of Internet searches, phone calls and letters that came to nothing but the renewal of many old acquaintances.

Then, out of the electronic blue, one of the shotgun email bets paid off when a partner in crime, war and love responded he had seen her in Minnesota a few years ago. They had crossed paths at the airport and spent a few minutes together talking about the old times. He could not shut up about how fine she looked with all the right curves in the right places, etc., so I put him on the spam filter list for a while.

Finding her had not been an easy quest but sometimes persistence pays off if you throw in a little luck. But, persistence does not do anything for the fear of the unknown in meeting someone from the past that was close to the heart. Seeing her and talking to her and touching her and all of those wanton wants took possession of what minimum mind that I had left until the realization that resistance is futile. With thoughts of the old adage that “there is no fool like an fool” I set about making the arrangements to see her.

It was slow arriving but today I would see her, talk to her and hopefully mend the broken fences of my past petulance. I wondered how she would look? Had time been kind to her? Was her life a good one? Is there really such a thing as forgiveness by those once scorned? Would the old magic still be there? Timeless questions but as current and real as a phone call at three in the morning.

The best place to meet someone when there might be a confrontation or an emotional display is to meet on neutral ground and in public. I thought the airport best fit that bill and proceeded making all the necessary plans.

The big day and moment arrived somehow after agonizing clock-watching; partially validating Einstein’s theory that time can be slowed. I saw her first, far across the lobby. My heart almost stopped for good and tears formed in my eyes. There was no way to hold back the emotions and I hoped no one would notice but I was past the point of no return. The emotion and feelings from over the years came too fast. All I could do was stumble toward her.

I reached out, forty years were gone and we were together again. Thousands of memories flooded my mind and senses. There had been times of joy, times of fear, and times of sadness. We had experienced it all, the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.

She had fared well over the years. In fact she had aged better than I had. She had a beautiful home and a large family. We talked some but I don’t remember much about what was said. All too soon it was time to leave. We made our peace in those brief moments and this goodbye was a lot different than the previous one.

Walking away was even tougher this time. I turned for one more look at her. My buddy was right; she looked much better than the last time I saw her. But the leaving had to be done.

My eyes were misty and on shaky legs I made my retreat. We could not be together. Too much time had gone by and too much had changed. She would always be special to me and occupy a big piece of my heart. I turned and waved another goodbye to OV-1A 60-3736. She, the special someone, was a Phantom Hawk airplane that I had flown in Vietnam some thirty-seven years ago. Both of us had made it safely home. Everything in our relationship was right once again.

Copyright 2007 Jim Thomas

Editor’s note: Jim Thomas served in the 225th SAC, RVN '70 - '71; 131st MICAS, RVN '74 - '75; 13th Avn Bn, 131st MICAS '75 - '77; and the Georgia National Guard ’77- ’87.
The Mohawk pictured above is the aircraft to which Jim is referring in his story; Terry Carlson recently sent us these photos. Thanks very much, Terry! Here's Jim's note to Terry: "Greetings Terry! Many thanks for the photos. 23 (formation shot) was an OV-1A, had a frame number of 60-03736 and survived the war. It is in the American Wings Museum in MN. It also is one of the decal sets in the Roden 1/48 JOV-1A plastic model kits. However the colors are not accurate for what we were using in 70-71 when 23 was in the unit. This is the airplane that I was writing about in the article on Gordy's site. Best regards to all you brothers, (signed) JT"

Old Glory

I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up and see me.
I stand for peace, honor, truth, and justice.
I stand for freedom.

I am confident.
I am distinguished.
I am proud.
When I am flown with my fellow banners,
my head is a little higher,
my colors a little truer.
I bow to no one but to God!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am saluted.
I am loved.
I am revered.
I am respected, and I am feared.

I have fought in every battle of every war
for more then 200 years.
I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg,
Shiloh, and Appamatox.
I was there at San Juan Hill,
the trenches of France;
in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome;
and the beaches of Normandy, Guam.
Okinawa, Korea and KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam.
I was there.
I led my troops,
I was dirty, battle-worn and tired,
but my soldiers cheered me,
And I was proud.


I have been burned, torn, and trampled
on the streets of countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt, for I am strong.
I have been soiled upon, burned, torn,
and trampled on the streets of my country.
And when it's by those whom I've served in battle,
it does hurt;
But I shall overcome for I am strong.

I have slipped the bonds of Earth
and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space
from my vantage point on the moon.
I have borne silent witness
to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hours are yet to come.

When I am torn into strips
and used as bandages
for my wounded comrades on the battlefield;
When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms
of a grieving parent
at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
I am proud.

MY NAME IS OLD GLORY,
LONG MAY I WAVE.

DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN, LONG MAY I WAVE

Thanks to Howard Ohlson for sending me this tribute to our flag.

More Words of Aviation Wisdom...

George Drago sent me some more of the Sage's (whoever "the Sage" is!) words of aviation wisdom:

"If the wings are traveling faster than the fuselage, it's probably a helicopter -- and therefore, unsafe."

"When one engine fails on a twin-engine airplane you always have enough power left to get you to the scene of the crash."

"Even with ammunition, the USAF is just another expensive flying club."

Q - "What is the similarity between air traffic controllers and pilots?”
A – “If a pilot screws up, the pilot dies; If ATC screws up…. The pilot dies."

"Never trade luck for skill."

"Airspeed, altitude and brains. Two are always needed to successfully complete the flight."

"Mankind has a perfect record in aviation; we never left one up there!"

"Flying the airplane is more important than radioing your plight to a person on the ground incapable of understanding or doing anything about it."

"The Piper Cub is the safest airplane in the world; it can just barely kill you."
- Attributed to Max Stanley (Northrop test pilot)

"There is no reason to fly through a thunderstorm in peacetime."
- Sign over squadron ops desk at Davis-Monthan AFB, AZ, 1970

"If something hasn't broken on your helicopter, it's about to."

"You know that your landing gear is up and locked when it takes full power to taxi to the terminal."

As the test pilot climbs out of the experimental aircraft, having torn off the wings and tail in the crash landing, the crash truck arrives, the rescuer sees a bloodied pilot and asks "What happened?". The pilot's reply: "I don't know, I just got here myself!"