Colonel James Homan USMC

 Colonel James Homan USMC 

How I became a Marine

This is the start of a series of stories or episodes in my life. I have always told stories about stuff that I have been involved with. As I look back on a moderately productive and successful trek, I realize that I have done and experienced some very unique and interesting adventures. I have thought a lot about how a kid from Sioux City, Iowa in the late 1950s early 60s with no apparent drive or initiative ends up a retired Marine Colonel/International Security Consultant. Much of it is an effect of the 60s Revolution and Vietnam War but primarily the simple decision to inquire about the Marines….

August of 1964 I arrived back at Crieghton University, Omaha, Nebraska for my sophomore year. I was on probation from a disastrous  academic start. I was basically in the same fog as the year before and my summer, but two things changed my short term objectives…not goals or career insight but objectives! First an acquaintance from our freshman dorm and future fraternity brother showed up with an extremely close (“high and tight”) haircut. This included a harrowing account of a six week United States Marine Corps boot camp that would make him a Marine Officer at graduation. Secondly, I was drawn with other dorm friends to a fraternity party to recruit new members. I was told I could pledge but there was no way I would be able to join because one had to have an average grade point of 2.0 ( “C” ). At that time I stumbled along at barely 1.25 ( “D-“ ).

Both of these events were profound, and in retrospect, defined character traits that affected my life’s direction. I have never possessed a career plan or direction but have always been willing to grab new opportunities. Plus a bull-headed desire to “show” anyone who says I can’t do something. There are other oddities that I developed over time. The desire to be unique and do important things. To view life as a generalist and not a specialist. The aim to lead but also be an aggressive follower. In a mentoring discussion I remember stating, “I always thought of myself as a B player. Therefore I needed to get involved with top level environment to excell”.

As a result of the first encounter, I visited the on campus Marine Officer Recruiter. After a terribly complicated sales pitch, involving my vague consent and multiple signatures, I passed a physical and joined the USMC Platoon Leader Class summer 1965. This program involved 2 six-week summer sessions of fairly intense physical and mental tests to determine the possibility that I had the potential not to embarrass the Marine Corps or needlessly kill young Marines. I luckily realized the Air Wing was a better place to hone my immature leadership skills. And the Vietnam War’s demand for cannon fodder lowered the bar so I was able to earn my Eagle Globe and Anchor.

My successful venture into the Iota Kappa Epsilon (IKE) sophomore pledge class involved a more tactical attack. I had to co-exist in German (C’s) and switch majors from Math to History. A careful analysis of available courses and Instructors showed a fairly clear line of those that were clandestinely advertised as easy A’s. I slid under the bar with a 3.75 grade point which computed to a 2.0000001. There was one minor hiccup when I realized that my “easy A” course, “Study of Football and Basketball Strategies”, was populated by scholarship contracted basketball players guaranteed A’s. This was a B that I had to work for.

 4 months to Nam....Garing/Homan, Offut , Del Rio

I graduated from Creighton University, Omaha, Nebraska and was commissioned a Marine 2nd Lieutenant early June 1967. June and I were married later that month in her home town of Dell Rapids, South Dakota. We loaded a little trailer hooked to our new 1967 red Mustang and arrived at Marine Base Quantico, Virginia on 4 August; an eventful summer!

Marine Officer Basic School, due to the war, was a truncated 18 week ( normally 36 week) course to introduce Marine Officers to the skills and responsibilities of leading young Marines in battle.  We had the advantage of experienced returning warriors and urgency of a rising death toll. After being designated an aviation candidate, I was allowed to move to the background and graduate middle of my class ( B/67 ) of 250. Infantry Officers were almost exclusively sent directly to Vietnam to attempt to lead a platoon of around 40 teenagers in battle. The rest of us were parceled around the country to various specialty schools. June and I arrived at Naval Air Station Pensacola, Florida in January of 1968. We established our life-long financial strategy of never saying “no” to a salesman by purchasing a mobile home and setting up a short term household.

Pilot Flight Training is an 18 month tenure. But as a Naval Flight Officer ( NFO ), the Ground School and flight requirements to our aviator wings was around 6 months. There was a fairly intense competition among the Marines wether one would become a Bombardier/Navigator ( B/N ) in the new attack jet, the Grumman A6A Intruder or a Radar Intercept Officer ( RIO ) in current “hot-shit” fighter the McDonald Douglas F4 Phantom. I graduated one of the top Marines in my class and was able to select the B/N route. My choice was based upon the “side by side” arrangement in the Intruder. I did not want to ride aboard a Carrier hidden in the rear seat of a Phantom in the complete control of the guy in front…no matter how “shit-hot” a fighter pilot he was! During most of the Vietnam War Marine Squadrons were not deployed on carriers but this decision was substantiated by a number of other advantages of the Intruder; mission, systems, risk and lethality.

I earned my NFO Wings in Jul 1968. So June and I, along with Mustang, trailer and pending arrival of Molly traveled to NAS Glynco, Georgia for a short 4 week navigation course before subsequent assignment to a training squadron at Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point, North Carolina. I was able to delay an additional 8 weeks in Georgia as Molly was born early October 1968. This delay caused me an interesting but difficult assignment as a Casualty Assistance Officer. Wandering into a small Georgia town in dress blues and having to inquire at the post office for a non-posted address caused a crazy situation. Luckily the Western Union Telegram I carried only advised that a young Marine was only wounded and in a DaNang Hospital.  

Late December, early January 1969 our little brood arrived at Havelock. NC and I reported into the A6A Intruder training squadron. Just after arrival I participated in a Marine Mess Night sending off the VMA (AW) 225, Vikings, my future squadron, to DaNang, Republic of Vietnam. The party could have been a pilot for the future movie, “The Great Santini”. I also witnessed a Phantom over rotate on takeoff and crash through a flight line of aircraft and parking-lot of cars. The crew successfully ejected but 17 Aircraft and numerous vehicles were left in flames….no deaths. We were not in Iowa!!

After successful initial B/N training I was transferred to VMA (AW) 224 for final operational training before assignment to Vietnam. On arrival at the squadron, we knew there was at least a six month pipeline of B/Ns and a full schedule of classes and training qualifications before deployment. I would probably leave end of 1969.

In late January one of the B/Ns due for a July deployment developed a medical problem that caused a search for a draft replacement; I volunteered and moved well up in the line; July departure. I now would be require to fly 60 hours a month and take 4 classes in order to depart in early June for a 30 day pre-deployment leave. As I write this I wonder if I ever discussed this with June. I always have believed it is better to volunteer to be first in new ventures. Expectations are tempered and performance is enhanced. No wonder I am very good at start-up ventures!!

This training surge coupled me up with a future Viking squadron mate and life long friend, Jim Garing. It also resulted in several adventures, 2 of which are worth mentioning. Part of the training requirements for deployment involved a build up of flight hours and experience that only could be accomplished on multi-day cross country flights. In this case, 2 “nugget” (1st tour) aviator 1st Lt’s. are able to check out a $6 million military jet and wander across the US in search of excitement.

During Vietnam the demand for Marine pilots was such that the Corps out-sourced flight training to the Airforce. It also caused young newly commissioned officers to go directly to Flight training without the usual submersion of Marine Basic School. These pilots would initially received USAF lead colored winds before additional carrier training to earn Naval Aviator wings of gold.

Now 1stLt Garing, Diamond Jim, had been sent to the Airforce Base on the Mexican border in Del Rio,Texas for his training. Our first cross country was to visit the 4 or 5 novice Marines, that he had been with in Texas. I seem to remember we listed, “providing information and support on their expected graduation and indoctrination into the Corps.  We arrived on Saturday and, after the initial formal welcome and briefings, retired to the Officer’s Club to prove Marines can lie better than Airforce pilots. All of this was fairly normal until we arrived the next morning for our planned departure back to MCAS Cherry Point, NC.

Southwest Texas did not see very many Intruders or Marine jet aircraft. Or the increased attention could have been due to our minor invasion of Mexican airspace on approach to the field. Anyway there was a local television crew set up to film our departure. One can understand our embarrassment when the aircraft would not accept electrical power from the Airforce generator. Some military aircraft can start without external power but the A6 could not. While US military aircraft generally used 400cps power the Intruder demanded a much tighter specification frequency range, +/-30cps. This all culminated in the possibility that our little trip to Texas might require the Marine Corps to fly a power cart from a Marine of Navy Air Station. And 2 young Marine aviators might end up as broader than a local news story.

Luckily, I had been awake in most of our technical system’s training, when the instructor mentioned this possible problem and an interesting solution. Behind the canopy on the top of the fuselage was a large electrical bus panel, covered but accessible by removing several screws. All one had to do was short across circuit “a” to circuit “b”. As I explained the problem and solution to the enlisted Airforce maintenance crew, new issues arose. First they thought I was crazy and there was no way they would be authorized to touch our aircraft…..

We were parked away from the hanger and senior maintenance eyes. It seemed like the only solution; I had to attempt it myself! I was able to either borrow a screw driver or use a dime and successfully removed the access panel. As I remember it, I was able to use one of our clothes hangers to connect the required bypass and, amazingly, our beautiful attack aircraft began to buzz and blink. As I was replacing the panel and strapping into the seat, I heard one of the ground crew comment, “Leave it to the Marines to know how to jump-start a jet…”.

Thus Diamond Jim was able to make his triumphant departure from his old base. On takeoff he requested authorization for a low pass down the runway past the tower. “Low pass approved, Marine N65789”. The TV cameras recorded a Marine A6A roaring by the tower at 100ft and pulling up to a beautiful victory roll….imagine an aircraft doing a corkscrew climb straight up to 5000ft…Legends are made of this!

The second incident involved a vital training mission visit to Offut Air Force Base, Omaha, Nebraska, the headquarter’s of the Strategic Air Command. This was another Saturday arrival for a wedding of one of my fraternity brother’s at Creighton University. By 1969, even at Jesuit Catholic Universities, there were no parades for young warriors. But we were well received and I remember a normal wedding celebration, not “Marine normal” but Omaha normal.

Upon our arrival back at the base next morning all went as usual. We stored our light flight traveling hang up bags in the “birdcage”. This is a large fold-down access panel in the rear of the aircraft allowing maintenance personnel to work on electronic and flight controls. We had a normal preflight and startup. We proceeded to the end of the runway for an uneventful early morning departure. On run up to full power Jim mentioned the controls were a little stiff, but we continued our attempt to hurtle ourselves into the air. Upon liftoff the controls froze and Diamond declared an emergency. “Mayday, Marine CE503 declares an emergency and will attempt to make a left 180 to return to the field”. On the intercom he told me to grab the emergency procedures checklist and prepare for possible ejection. Fearing a total loss of hydraulic power we limped through a return and a successful landing. Only constipation saved me from a total brown-out.

We taxied back to the line and shutdown the aircraft. We immediately placed a long distance call back to our squadron. The Duty Officer, along with our local maintained experts were mystified as to the cause as we were. They instructed us to conduct a thorough inspection of the aircraft wheel-wells and birdcage and report back any apparent problems. Upon lowering the birdcage access, we immediately saw the problem. There was a bracket bent into a control rod and the pressure had severely scratched and constricted longitudinal movement. The shoes in my flight bag had inadvertently been placed between the access stairs and the bracket…..not a problem until the full power takeoff broke the bracket. While we prepared our stories for our return to the squadron, we bent the metal away from the control and set about setting up for a 2nd “normal” departure.

Then we were informed that the base duty officer was not going to allow 2 young Marine aviators to depart without a sign off from Offut AFB Maintenance. This was a larger issue because the weekend duty officer at The Strategic Air Command was full Colonel. Diamond Jim calmly instructed the him that: “Sir in the Marines the pilot-in-command authorizes departure, not the Base Duty Officer”. We proceeded through normal start-up, successful takeoff and flight back to MCAS Cherry Point, NC.  Upon arrival there was an interesting interview with the Base Commander. It seems there was a rather upset call from an Air Force Colonel complaining about 2 young Marine aviators. After the required reprimand for pissing off the USAF, we were commended for our performance and returning the aircraft unharmed.

The remaining 30 – 45 days to departure were uneventful but interesting. A cross-county to the west coast conducted mostly at or below 500ft above ground (AGL). This was before the FAA could tell our actual altitude. A comfortable but claustrophobic 8 hours in a 4x4 packing crate with 3 other guys at Survival School. The idea was to keep very quiet to avoid being pulled out into the cold to be beat up by fake camp guards. Just normal stuff…

June had decided to remain in Havelock, NC while I was deployed. Both grandparents thought she should bring Molly back to stay with them. But she would be working in the New Bern Hospital and also thought they would be better off with Marine support structure…she was in the middle of many geographically widowed spouses who had a very good insight as to war and deployed Marines.

Our 30 day leave was a flash as I boarded a flight in Omaha, NE to begin my journey to Vietnam. We had a few days alone as Molly was with the folks. Both of us sad, June, I think a little bewildered, but I was also full of the excitement for the pending adventure. Exactly nine months from my departure 4 July, 1969, I received a Western Union Telegram announcing the arrival of our 2nd James Ellis Homan.

Arrival in DaNang

It seems that every tale I have read or heard about arriving “in-country” Republic of Vietnam are similar. I guess that is because most of us traveled in as individuals. Our orders were to major Headquarters and we were fed down to our combat units according to the “needs of the Corps” on that particular day. 

I can’t remember the exact schedule! We left Omaha for San Francisco 4 July. I had a few days there harassing hippies before reporting to Travis AFB for a civilian contract flight to Kadena AFB, Okinawa, probably 7/8 July. The fight probably had 250-275 mixed service guys stuffed into random economy seating….no alcohol, institutional meals but great stewardesses, before “flight attendants”. We arrived the next day and were moved into billeting at MCB Camp Hansen, a WWII vintage “armpit” on North tip of the island. The intent was to do final processing before further a flight to DaNang on another contract commercial flight. These were actually being positioned as future “Freedom Flights for the daily R&R runs to Australia & Hawaii. 

 “Final Processing” involved a GG shot which was of nebulous value as a malaria preventive. But was administered based on weight and was certain to cause a large bruise and a sore hip for days. It was possible that one also could be diverted to other Pacific Command tasks and not go at all….a Marine 1Lt, F4 Phantom, Radar Intercept Officer (RIO),we trained with, spent his 13 months playing football for the Okinawa Marines, as he was a former UCLA quarterback.

When I checked-in on arrival at Camp Hansen, I was told to be outside the Officer’s Club that evening at midnight! Our bags would be thrown on a large truck and we would board a bus for onward transportation to the Vietnam War. No GG shot and no time to worry about the implications.

So I probably flew into DaNang early morning 9/10 July, 1969. My first impression of the most dangerous place on earth was spot lite darkness, as we hustled into a reception Quonset hut. Some were heralded by incoming rockets and mortar fire. We were told stories of 4 Marine 2Lt’s KIAs during Tet 1968 by rockets on arrival…..time in-country 30 Minutes!

We were to grab our bags and move into a large arrival hall where we would be assigned to ground transportation. “Get in that line LT for 1St Marine Wing (IMAW)”. I was delayed for a short time to initiate a search for the largest of my bags which was missing. I had humped a parachute bag with all of my flight gear through multiple stops and the last I saw of it was when it disappeared aboard the back of a 6X (6 bye) 12 hours earlier. Needless to say it never appeared. I was reissued a full set and queried the lost gear system several times during my 13 month adventure….”no joy”. Friday of my last week on active duty, I received a call from MCAS Cherry Point, NC supply that, “I had 2 large boxes to pick up. 2 years and there was my errant gear. If one happens to venture into the Mid-America Transportation Museum at the US Air Guard Base outside Sioux City, Iowa, you will find most of that extra stuff….as amongst all the USAF memorabilia is a Marine Warrior, Major Jim Homan, display.

As I reported through the command chain, First Marine Aircraft Wing, ( 1MAW ) to Marine Aircraft Group 11 ( MAG 11 ) and finally to VMA ( AW ) 225, ( the Vikings ), there were a number of options that could have change my fate. 1MAW commanded all Marine Air in RVN. I could have been assigned an administrative billet at either MAG 11, MCAS DaNang or MAG 13, MCAS Chu Lai, 35 miles south of DaNang. These were the 2 Marine fixed wing fighter/attack Groups in-country. They were “task organized” which meant they also had additional squadrons of aircraft for special missions. Photo Recon ( RF4 ), aerial high speed forward air control ( Fast FAC, dual seat A4C ), air control and airborne forward air control ( OV10 & OH01 ) etc, etc. But the Helo and Transport/Refueling missions were in separate Groups and locations due the the number of squadrons and missions required. Luckily the current “needs of the Corps” demanded warriors, as I was assigned as a B/N to one of the 3 A6A Intruder Squadrons. The 533, Eagles in Chu Lai and 242 Bats were the other options.

My “Vietnam is my War” July 1969 – July 1970 saw a rather unusual full year tour as a Viking. It seemed most young officers would serve a few months in their primary task (what they were trained to do ). Then they would be offered up to fill Wing or Group staff assignments or sacrificed to the infantry units as Forward Air Controllers ( FACs). The pattern dictated that those who were controversial ended up with the opportunity to expand their career opportunities. One of my professed accomplishments was to serve a full tour in the same unit and fly 250 combat missions as a B/N….probably a top 5% statistic for a 13 month A6 aviator tour.

While subsequent personal events warrant more detail, the mundane progression of July to July caused solid memories. After a short initial spurt of “beginner” missions, life became a assortment of aerial tasks that unitized the unique capabilities of the Intruder: Massive lift; 28 500lb ( Delta 2s ), 15 1000lb ( D3s ) or 5 2000lb ( D4s ) bombs hung externally beneath the wings on 5 racks;  Extended time on station; high G loading ( able to both quickly turn and provide a stable bombing platform for visual day close air support, CAS ) and Precision All Weather Systems Attack. 

There were though a number of incidents that provide an indelible mark on my own personal PTSD.

• A 4 day Survival School in the Philippines at Naval Air Station Cubi Point. We learned from the Negrito Hill People to survive in the jungle if shot down. Outside the base we learned how to survive in the hell raising bars around most bases ( all highly classified).

•  A good friend in the neighboring squadron did not return from a night mission in Laos (MIA, daughter Molly’s age). I might have been one of last to speak to them as they checked in as we left the same route package. 

• Both pilot and B/N successfully ejected from a plunging whirling Intruder that had lost the right wing. This was one on the routine daylight, non-systems, dive bombing missions that were dedicated to those aircraft that could not meet the new standards of “computer” bombing. 

• On 2 different, but similar incidents within the Group, aircraft returned from missions with the second pilot in the rear seat hit by a solitary ground-fired round….lottery odds do not match the chances of a single round scoring a head-shot on a aircraft moving several hundred knots at 1500-3000ft. And it happened twice. “When it is your time, it is your time”.

There were lighter moments: 

• monthly multi-squadron drunken parties at the Officers Club with Oriental and Australian ( round-eyed ) bands playing those 60s tunes that still infect….”we have to get out of this place”. 

• Playing liar’s dice for drinks, wearing your cover (hat) in the bars buys drinks….for everyone! Ring the bell…buys the bar…hang from the rafters…..buys the bar. 

• Squadron all hands parties at China Beach where the squadron mess fund was used for steaks and beer.

This was interlaced with normal days in the squadron ready room either waiting to fly or just ignoring the additional duties assigned to all aviators. I was dubbed the “Squadron Legal Officer and Coffee Mess Officer. I was supposed to investigate, charge and deliver up to the Squadron Commanding Officer’s judgement ( Office Hours ) minor infractions perpetrated by our junior enlisted personnel. I showed my future leadership potential by allowing our senior enlisted leaders to handle all of these….we only had one “Office Hours” early in my tour. The Coffee Mess caused much more stress. I was responsible for insuring there was soda in our local coffee mess, and organizing squadron parties with beer, steaks and local bands. I was constantly in trouble for logistics screw ups with the beverage demands.

I wonder wether my tour was much different than my peers. As I look back I know this is where I developed a view of both the possible and the adventure of pushing the envelop. “Ask for forgiveness, not permission.            

Nuclear Refresher Crs Japan/Marine Birthday Okinawa

This narrative always reminds me of the original “Mash” movie, when Hawkeye and Pearce are sent to an Infectious Disease Class outside of Korea….in reality a rest and relaxation opportunity to enjoy the fruits of the Orient and raise hell. The Wing sponsored a Nuclear Delivery Refresher Course in MCAS Iwakuni, Japan. During the Cold War all attack aircraft carried the training requirement for the scary possibility of having to deliver a nuclear weapon! They brought in a special instructor from the States to insure that the conventional war in Vietnam did not cause a loss of this capability. Four of us from the 2 in-country squadrons were sent for this requirement early in November 1969. There are a couple of interesting facts that cement the intent of this class as a R&R benefit. I had been rushed to the “War” without having the basic delivery course….I had no idea how to deliver nuclear weapons. The US had also promised the Government of Japan that we would not to conduct nuclear training in the “Land Of the Rising Sun”. So we went prepared to ignore the scholastic requirements and have a good time.  

We hopped a military transport cargo C130 to Okinawa with a couple of days buffer to our reporting date in Iwakuni, Japan. Each of us wanted to rid ourselves of the smell of Vietnam, but the primary purpose of the stop was “shopping”. I figured I could fill out the 3 or 4 place settings of Noritaki China we had received for our wedding at 10% of US price, ( June & I were probably the only couple our age to have full sets of formal dinnerware. I had purchased silver and crystal in the Philippines. Thus acknowledging another trait….I could care less about dishes but I wanted to prove I could accomplish the task.). While each of us had some planned purchase to prove a benefit from our excursion to the Orient, there was one more common goal. Most of us wanted to take advantage of a USO program and arrange for recordings of multiple reel-to-to reel tapes of music….Teac Recorders and massive speakers were the smart phone of the decade for returning warriors and the correct music was a must! I suppose today they are stored next to the hula hoops.

Amazingly with no real leadership we made our onward flight to MCAS Iwakuni, Japan and arrived there on Sunday for class 0800 Monday morning. When we reported in that morning, “some” of us were not more than a couple of hours from returning to the Base from adventures in the Ville. Through the haze we were rewarded with an instructor who had not gotten the “word” that the class was a boon-dongle! He expected bright eyed young Lieutenants eager to catch the latest techniques of delivering the apocalypse. He first noticed one lost in thought drawing a fantasized mustache on his lip with a marker. And the rest were in a mix of comatose or nauseous stupor. The only thing I remember of the 4 day class was a classified look at models of the 2 weapons that obliterated Hiroshima and Nagasaki and ended WWII.

Our self-professed “graduation exercise” was a short train ride and RON ( aviatorese for overnight stay) north to Hiroshima. As we stepped off the train there was a load but unintelligible anti-nuclear protest in progress. Almost immediately we were accosted by a quiet young man that requested to “speak English with us”. Then he offered to give us a tour of the City including the Peace Park….”ground zero”. We learned the protest was sort of an ongoing demand for non-proliferation of nuclear weapons. Needless none of us broadcasted our visit intent.

While we wondered about our new best friend’s goal, we accepted his invite and boarded a couple of cabs to head into the city. Our initial mission and some of the conversation as we traveled give an interesting perspective of late 1960’s Japan. “This is a very modern city”….”Yes all new after you blew it up 20 years ago”. “What is that Monument we are passing”….” Oh, 20,000 people are buried there from the bomb”.

Our first task was to visit a large department store to replace a pair of shoes that had been ripped on the trip north. The first delay was searching the floors around the shoe department for someone who spoke understandable English. Then figuring out that the laughing gaggle of clerks was caused by the ripped size “9” shoe we wanted replaced. This was obviously much larger than they had ever seen let alone sell….

Next, as we arrived at the Peace Park, our tour guide dropped us off and promised that he would arrange lodging and pick us up at park closing. Our communication fears were erased by several young women who were majoring in English at Hiroshima University, who volunteered to be our guides of the Park. We strolled by the Atomic Dome, (a western looking shell of a domed church which was one of the 7 structures surviving the Enola Gay air bust in 1945.). We were also shone a large Oriental gong monument, (resting place for another 20,000 remains). When we arrived at the small musuem, our new young friends left us. Most of the residents of the City would not go in the musuem with it’s pictorial documentation of death and destruction. As I write this I wonder wether this is akin to our solemn visit to our Vietnam Wall?

As we wandered toward the gates at closing, 2 cabs arrived with our initial guide. He had changed his evening plans to take us to a local restaurant and to a small hotel where he had arranged lodging. While each of us wondered wether we were destined to some weird “Jap” ritual, we were Marine Warriors and “trained killers” so back in the cab we went. The dinner and lodging were an amazing introduction to local traditional Japanese culture. The doors to our private dining room were paper. We sat on the floor at a small table enjoying a “ tea ceremony”. Chop Sticks were an early mystery. Our individual rooms were small and the beds were futons. Before he left us with a promise to again pick us up in the morning for our scheduled train, we learned of a simple clerk who worked 12 hour, 6 day weeks and lived with his parents and his wife and child.

The same C130 picked us up at MCAS Iwakuni for our 8 hour flight to Okinawa. Upon landing the Crew Chief told us we could stay on board as they were just refueling and heading for DaNang. I found out what ants experience when their homes are demolished. Our group plus the other 20 passengers erupted from the plane as the rear ramp lower. We were “assholes and elbows” over the berm on the side of the runway heading for the taxi stand. We had plans to celebrate the 1969 Marine Corps Birthday in Okinawa.

The Marine Corps Birthday is a structured formal (Prom) event celebrated on 10 November every year. There probably are several thousand parties every year at every unit, base, city or even US Embassy guarded by Marines! Over my 50 odd years affiliated with the Corps, I have celebrated in many countries and places, but this one ranks with a couple as the most weird. First, one of our group knew 4 US teachers, who we were sure posted overseas for employment because they could not get dates in the States….we had dates with the first round-eyed women we had seen in months! Then, the main sponsor of this Birthday Ball was the 3rd Marine Division, who had just been part of the 69-70 troop drawdown from Northern I Corps, RVN. Most had dates with local Riciuan women and all would rather have been back in the War. So we were with these rather “plain” white women and scheduled to fly back to DaNang in 2 days. While these young grunts who were with these beautiful local Okinawan women, would have paid us for our seats on the plane. And any non-Asian women was like a found treasure to them….we happily ended our evening without “coyote-ugly” fears. 

Purchases recovered and an 8 hour C130 ride, we were back in DaNang, RVN 12 Nov, 1969. 

Langston/HomanFlt

“It was a dark and stormy night”. This is an example of how boredom, lack of planning and plain stupidity can almost get one into a world of hurt. By mid-1969 North Vietnam was off limits for the air war. But we were attempting to stop the deluge of material moving into the South through Laos down what was then called the Ho Chi Minh Trail. It was on about my 50th mission into Laos that reporter happened to mention that a lone B52 had dropped in Laos. Our Squadron alone had been sending a steady 5-6 flights a night, a 1/3 of our schedule. There were a number of more complicated and exciting missions, but the Intruders usual task was a night, single plane, MTI (moving target indicator) mission. We were trying to unitize the unique system and radar mix to compare multiple sweeps of the radar to pick up moving targets. We could find and accurately bomb trucks moving down the trail through a cloud cover and darkness. Only problem was most of the “trucks” were bicycles and none could move faster than the 4 mph required. 

So we would depart DaNang Air Base after darkness. Upon arrival over the valley trail that ran north through narrow pass to the town of Tespone, we would spend about 30 minutes searching the trail for movers. The terrain was dominated on the east side by a 7000 ft peak and along west side by a 3000 ft ridge. Our normal search altitude put us level with this ridge. Close to 100% of these missions ended with a devert to our alternate target, where we would drop our 28 D2s on coordinates marking a “suspected” truck park or POL (petroleum) dump. 

Our normal expert opinion was that we were wasting our time and needlessly endangering ourselves. Occasionally we would get a few 37mm aircraft rounds thrown at us and even more seldom a secondary explosion (the bomb explosion caused something to blow up on the ground). As we were by ourselves with no real adult leadership there were some creative changes to some of these flights. On one flight the crew set the aircraft to drop 1 bomb every 30 seconds as they flew down the trail….on the 14th bomb a secondary that revealed a destroyed truck on the morning photo recon. Poor guy was sitting safely in his parked truck when he sees a flash on the horizon; 30 seconds closer….

Our nemesis/provocateur on this mission was a large campfire that was on the center of the trail about ½ way through our run.  “Have you ever used the Track Radar to drop on a system dive delivery?” Our normal systems deliveries were level runs that allowed the computer to work out the airspeed and altitude ballistics and drop when the aircraft passed over the radar crosshairs. The track radar was a point radar that could be utilized in a systems dive bombing. A manual dive delivery demanded the pilot position the aircraft on an exact 30 degree dive from 8000ft to arrive at 3000ft, 500kts with the manual bomb site piper crossing the target. My task was to count backward from the altimeter 8..7…as we passed through 1000 ft increments and call MARK at 3000ft. If we passed through 1500 ft the aircraft could not pull out without hitting the ground. This was the normal historic attack delivery. The Track Radar theoretically let the system allow for discrepancies and get accurate hits.

Our actual execution was almost disaster. We set up steep and fast diving across the valley toward  the mountain peak. We were definitely behind the airplane when the drop was initiated and we attempted to miss plowing into the peak….somewhere between 10 & 12Gs and we barely missed bringing home branches. A very quiet cockpit as we ascended to 10000 ft and headed back to base. About 10 minutes later I recovered from the “brown out” to report our departure to the Laos airborne controller. “Moonbeam, Manual 72 is RTB (return to base) negative BDA”. As we walked around the parked Intruder looking for possible stress damage (popped rivets), we promised each other not to discuss our stupidity with anyone…..

Gose/HomanTPQ

Another dark and stormy night….A TPQ mission was our most routine event….probably not for the bad guys sitting on the target but….it was a ground controlled bombing mission that allowed for a controlled straight and level release in most kinds of visibility and weather. The Air-Control Group had developed a radar and rudimentary computer that could hit a target accurate with a bombing platform in straight and level flight at a specific altitude, heading and airspeed. As I remember it the A6 would be at 20,000 altitude, 250kts, specific heading and the commands from the controller would be; “cleared hot” ( we could arm our 28 D2s…a safety wire connected to the bomb rack kept the bomb fuse prop from spinning and arming the individual bomb. The arming switch in the aircraft would hold the wire when the weapon dropped away from the aircraft), “15 sec”, “mark mark”. If they lost radar lock on the aircraft you would confirm the arming switch off and you would try again.

On this particular night there were numerous thunder storms in the area; some with clouds topping 60,000ft. Not only would the radar not see through a thunderstorm but the violent up and down drafts could actually tear an aircraft apart. We were briefed that we would be working with Quang Tri ASRT and the Target would be just south of the small river that marked the border of North & South Vietnam in the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone…go figure?). This would demand a fairly strict east west heading. After takeoff, climb to 20,000ft and check-in, we were given a run in of 270 or straight west. The target was on the other side of a significant cumulonimbus cell (a big mother thunder storm). The Target and our need to support the Marines on the ground meant we would attempt to complete the mission. Just before entering the thunderhead we were cleared hot to drop. Lightning every where, violent upward and downward buffeting, amazingly beautiful St Elmo’s Fire ( static electricity echoed across the canopy and connected refueling probe into the cockpit….we were similar to a science fare exhibit) and “cease fire, cease fire, confirm weapons safe, we need to make a 180 and try again”. We tried 6 time with similar results and gave up when we were low on fuel. 

We headed back toward DaNang making one attempt with DaNang ASRT before giving up totally. The wet runways at the airbase demanded we take time and fuel to devert to a designated area over the South China Sea to jettison our bombs. These were supposedly dropped safe. But the fish would probably dispute this as there was always several explosions when they hit the water.

We called for a straight in approach to engage the mid-field wire for an arrested minimum fuel landing. We landed several thousand feet short of the gear but the pilot kept our speed and power up in case we had a problem with the hook and had to take off again….considering how the whole flight was going this was a given! No abrupt deceleration from the hook engaging the gear and we were away back in the air. This put us back in the air, minimum fuel and ChuLai Airbase as our only alternative to punching out of a fuel-starved aircraft. About half way the low fuel emergency light erupted (declared and “emergency and 15 mile straight-in approach). Just after landing as we rolled out the engines shut down and we had to be tolled off the runway. As we left the aircraft we observed that all of the paint was ground off the leading edges of the aircraft and the ray dome was shredded like confetti…..ice damage from the storm. 

The pilot is a long time friend and we have had multiple crew discussions over the years about the stupidity of taking off from DaNang when we still had 5000ft of runway after missing the gear…..

Gonzales/Homan Commando Bolt

There was an effort for the squadrons to train a pilot and B/N as a team, but with individual deployment of aircrews this was logistically impossible. You could though refuse to fly with those pilots that scared you or you felt would kill you. Unfortunately this demanded at least one mission to certify the impression. I have only flew with one such pilot that still causes a peak in my blood pressure. After all of the original Vikings finished their tour, we were left with 20 odd 1st Lt.s and a Maj who extended to become Commanding Officer. We were junior, salty and uncontrollable. The Marine personnel system was working very hard to get us adult leadership. One of the first was a 2nd tour Captain who was a former helicopter pilot that had sold his soul to transition as a fixed wing A6 pilot….(his payback was a 2nd trip to the war). Very soon after he arrived several of our elite partiers decide that the FNG needed a proper Viking welcome. An  “Archlight” was scheduled! This involved a simulation of the then famous 3 plane B52 mission that dropped over 300 500lb bombs on a single target from 30 thousand feet. At the bewitching hour several well lubricated young Lt.s stormed the then sleeping target for a normal destruction of his hooch. Well we did not anticipate a very frightened 2nd tour Marine who slept with a 357 revolver under his pillow….luckily no one was shot as they evacuated. Interestingly the Good Captain’s paranoia was further fertilized by a large bullseye that appeared on the side of his quarters the next morning.

My involvement and confirmation of the junior officer gossip about our new Safety Officer’s hysteria was Commando Bolt mission Manual 61

Commando Bolt was the operational name given to a mission designed to offset bomb off radar significant spots in Ban Karai Pass where Ho Chi Min Trail entered Laos from North Vietnam. We orbited at 20,000ft waiting to be advised by the airborne Direct Air Support Center (DASC, USAF C130 monitoring sensors dropped along the Trail) of trucks moving along the trail. They would give Delta Points, coordinates, where the trucks would arrive at a certain point. We would plan our run-in to be 5 miles from that point at 3000ft heading into the mountain pass to search for indicated moving trucks. We rarely saw the trucks but always dropped all of our 28 D2’s ( 500lb bombs) in a 1400ft string where the coordinates were. If you recorded secondary explosives you caused something to blow up. This was one of the most protected places by 37 & 57mm anti-aircraft guns. The tracers looked like you were flying through the 4th of July fireworks grand finally. Amazing that none of our aircraft got hit.

 After one passed the 100 mission mark, you were designated as Mission Commander. This meant you were responsible for the operational aspects, while the pilot was responsible for the actual flight. Part of this responsibility was assignment to fly with the new guys and introducing them to each mission type. As this was Capt. Gonzalez’s first night mission to Laos and Commando Bolt, I got the short straw. We had a normal brief and takeoff, but I did notice he seemed very edgy. There was a Navy flight on target when we arrived at the orbit point so we watched them take an amazing amount of tracers over the pass. Then it was our turn……

“Manual 61, Moonbeam; 6 movers Delta 4, 8 mikes”. We had 8 minutes to descend from to 3 thousand feet, 5 miles from Delta 45 to arrive when the truck did! As we started inbound, I got busy inputting the correct coordinates into the computer, setting up the armament panel and began tweaking the radar for a possible moving target indication. I felt the descent begin and felt the uncomfortable jerking of the plane our nervous warrior pilot jinked to attempt to avoid the inbound antiaircraft fire…..a definite waste of energy that would not help our performance. As we passed 10 miles I thought our radar was of out of sync as the normal exact picture would not improve. Exasperated I look at the altimeter to find we had leveled at 10 thousand feet rather than the required 3 for any sort of accuracy. I yelled at Gonzalez to get his ass in gear. We started a rapid dive that put us at about 5 thousand feet when the bombs began to drop. Immediately our petrified pilot began a violent jinking climb again attempting to miss the “4th of Jul finally” firework that rose around us. 28 500lb bombs set to drop every ½ seconds take 14 seconds to leave the Intruder. We threw projectiles for miles….the only place safe was the 8 trucks at the target. I was pissed! After we landed I resolved never to fly with him again and passed the word to my junior officer peers.

The real kicker only became apparent a couple years ago ( 2016 ). I was researching information on flights that might have caused me nightmares, when I obtained a copy of his debrief at MAG11 Intell…..he documented that we had seen 2 secondary explosion and destroyed 2 trucks. Lies to cover his ass…I wonder why he didn’t ask me to write him up for a DFC! Maybe he did it himself….

Davenport/Homan Rooster Tails

Jim Davenport/Homan Day time Close Air Support routine mission on a beautiful day that we returned to base across South China Sea making Rooster tails. Flying 300 knots dipping the tailhook into the South China Sea, (the tailhook is about 5ft long). Major rush!

 

Garing/Homan test Flt 

Jim Garing/Homan rare Test hop. When aircraft were brought in for general maintenance it required a test hop before it could return to service. One of the requirements was a full loop. Jim started at 10,000ft and dove toward the deck pulling through at 5000ft and pulled up into a normal loop topping out inverted back at 10,000ft. Procedure specified to then pull the power to idle arcing over to repeat…What happened was a double flame-out [both engines quit…very quiet in cockpit]. Jim executed a normal restart, which was successful. We then proceeded to attempt it again. Second double flame-out occurred. Relight was successful but on returning to the field we were severally chastised for the second try.  Did cause a change in the NATOPS Manual [flight operations procedures] to not go to full idle at top of loop

R&R

R&R Usually one week respite from RVN. Married guys all went to meet their wives in Hawaii. Most would wait until after they were a least ½ way through their tour but I signed up early as June was 5 months pregnant with our 2nd child, born in March 1970. This was almost exactly 9 months after our July farewell in Omaha, Ne.

On reaching arrival departure day the whole situation became very surreal. June and I had arranged to meet at the airport in Honolulu as she was to fly in the night before. We were then flying to an exclusive beach resort on the island of Hawaii, Kona Village. The expert advice from my squadron-mates was to sleep the first leg of the flight from DaNang to Guam; purchase an affordable bottle of alcohol there and proceed to Hawaii. The wives would be queued up at the gate. Well, the drugs I obtained from our squadron Flight Surgeon did not cause me to even doze until an hour out of Honolulu. I wandered off the flight amidst a wave of joyous couples and June was nowhere to be found. In fact there was no word at all about her or where she was. Not having today’s cell phones or really anyone to call, I wandered through the airport searching, left word with the R&R desk and took a room at an adjacent hotel. Luckily I did not really get a chance to drown my bewilderment in the Wild Turkey bottle from Guam. Almost immediately there was a knock at the door and there she was in all her pregnant beauty. She was supposed to fly out of New Bern, NC airport near MCAS Cherry Point as she had declined both our parents offer of lodging. She decided to remain in our Mobile Home in Havelock, NC where she had the support of the Marine Wives. To her dismay her flight had been canceled due to fog. But the airline came through and sent her by cab to the nearest airport available. She was able to reconnect with her flight to Honolulu in LAX only a day later. She had arrived just as I had and while wandering through the airport wondering if we would ever see each other, someone asked wether she was searching for a lost Marine from DaNang. Someone had heard me mention the hotel and we found each other. Luckily the only other drama we had was wondering how the brights on the car kept going on and off (we did not know the switch had been moved from the floor to the turn signal.).

  

Last Flt Diamond Jim/Homan and Freedom Bird home

Medals: besides the normal Vietnam Service Medals I was awarded 15 Air medals which were defined by a point system; 1 point  for in-country Combat missions, 2 for out of country. All of my out of country missions were in Laos and Cambodia. We were not flying into North Vietnam 69-70. Although if we hit over Laos we would have flown over the North toward the sea rather than down in Laos….there are no recorded recoveries on MIAs from Laos. Several rescue missions but no MIA.

 

Individual medals were rare for 2 reasons. We flew mostly single plane missions and would have had to put our self in for a DFC or Individual Air Medal. Also Marines basically felt our missions did not rate medals because we were “just doing our job”.

Other services had a practice of awarding DFCs as “end of tour awards”.

 

 

Our hits got much better when Marine Capt Nellie Dye arrived at our squadron an sourced accurate digital maps from the US Carriers. We had been operating of simple commercial maps that could be 100’s of meters off.

 

.

We had an operation toward end of my tour [July 70] where the objective was to clear triple canopy jungle to better support ARVN [Vietnamese Army].  The near HeloAirfield [Marble Mountain] had most of the flight line full of 55 gallon drums of napalm one night.[If there had been a rocket attack it would have been just one huge fireball.] Idea was for a CH53 Helicopter with an external cargo net full of drums of napalm to drop them ahead of advancing troops. Behind each helo was an A6 Intruder with 5 D4s [2000lb bombs] to drop and set off the napalm and eliminate the jungle. We did this for one full day….results were negligible as the napalm stayed in the top of the canopy and never reached the ground

 

Daylight missions in Laos were very unusual as we preferred to fly at night unseen. I had one mission where I was to drop mines along a trail. I required significant planning and I thought was a lot of fortitude to accomplish. As the mines dropped off the A6 I was very satisfied with my work and exposed performance. Then we hear on Guard [common radio freq all aircraft monitored] “great work I can see them hit right on  the trail…” We rolled up and looked down there was an OH1 [piper cub used for forward air control missions]. Flying down about 100ft from the trail monitoring our effort. I enjoyed the praise but it put the relative danger in perspective.

We had one evening flight in Laos when I looked up and saw directly above our aircraft 3 contrails. And then down and saw directly below us 3 huge rows of explosions’.  We had wandered under an Arc Light…There were 330 500lb bombs falling from the 3 B52s at 30,000ft around us. No harm but it got our attention.

 

Visit to Ubon, Thailand….

 

The squadron placed an aircrew in the Thai Airbase in Ubon, Thailand. Every couple months it was your turn for a few days off. You would fly a mission, then rather than returning to DaNang you would divert to Ubon. The crew there would swap seats and return to DaNang. 3 days later, mildly hung over you would replace a crew and return.

 

Last Flight DaNang RVN. Jim Garing/Homan, it was considered bad luck to know when your last flight. Usually about 2 weeks before your end of tour you would be met by fire hoses and a bottle on Champaign signally your last combat mission.

 

Last flight A6A Intruder. I had a cold but did not want to miss my last flight. We descended from 8000ft to sea level at MCAS Cherry Point, NC and I wasn’t able to clear my ears. I had significant but not lasting damage to my eardrums. I went to sick bay and they blew compressed air up my nose while I swallowed a glass of water. A very eerie noise.

 

I mentioned in the first interview I had a second set of flight gear when I left active duty. That was donated to the Sioux City Iowa Transportation Museum and there is a James Homan Display as their Marine Aviator. An advantage of being only Marine in area.

Grumman A6A Intruder and Medals

During the 69-70 timeframe, at varying times there were 3 Marine Intruder Squadrons conducting combat missions in Northern ICorps, Laos and Cambodia. This was roughly 40 Aircraft, 120 combat missions per day with significant bomb damage and during some extremely dense rocket and anti-aircraft fire. We lost a couple of aircraft due to mysterious circumstances; disappearance over Laos at night and an aircraft that lost a wing during a daylight close air support mission. But there were very few aircraft that came home with battle damage. There was also a significant absence of combat medals awarded during this period. Superior airmanship and mission accomplishment in the face of extensive enemy opposition and the only combat awards were multiple Air Medals due to a statistical count of the number of missions. 

Part of the is due to an historic Marine philosophy that one should not get medals for just doing one’s job. We were all sent into the same briar patch to face the same odds and accomplish the same task. Why should we be awarded for doing the same job everyone else was doing?  But a lot had to do with the Intruder itself and how it was implemented.

The A6A Intruder is an all weather, attack jet capable of carrying massive payload (28/500lb bombs, ¼ of a B52), for an amazing amount of time on station, (3 hours vs. 45 min for a F4). But the aircraft also was equipped with radar and computer avionics that allowed it to attack moving or stationary targets through heavy weather at night, low level in the mountains. Thus all our combat missions were single plane and many of the more interesting ones were at night. We also loved to fly low level in the weather. In Laos we felt comfortable low level in the mountains, at night dodging thunderstorms. When we received enemy fire it always got our attention but it was usually oriented above and behind us. We flew into some of the most heavily defended places in the world and seemed bulletproof. Another day, usually 2-3 combat missions and one did not have time or inclination to write up awards on oneself. You hit the bar, hit the rack and started Groundhog Day all over again in the morning.

As a side note it should be mentioned that when they upgraded to systems in the Intruder from a drum memory computer and rudimentary radar to solid state, the capabilities and reliability was improved light years.

 

Pilot’s Perspective, Diamond Jim

Jim Homan and I had quite a few interesting experiences, training for and then flying combat missions in Vietnam.

Early 1969-

We are a bunch of new guys at Marine All Weather Attack Squadron 224, Cherry Point, North Carolina. We are there to learn how to go to war flying the A-6 Intruder, a twin engine, swept wing jet capable of all weather delivery of a wide range of weapons. Crew positions are pilot and bombardier/ navigator. The pilot flys the airplane in every kind of weather, the bombardier/ navigator operates the digital integrated navigation and weapons system including search and track radars, weapons/ navigation computer, inertial platform and air data computer. 

We are going to Vietnam for sure, but not until we have acquired enough experience in the airplane to be competent when operating at night in pouring rain or in the clear, with tracers snapping past the canopy, straight and level or high G maneuvering.

Being competent, according to the Marine corps, means going through an intense training syllabus which includes schooling on weapons, survival school, field survival training, escape and evasion field exercise, flying the airplane with a variety of different crew members, learning intimately every weapons delivery mode the airplane is capable of.

And every Marine is first a rifleman, which means qualifying on the 600 yard rifle range with the M-14.

The A-6 is capable of a number of standard weapons delivery modes including straight path, accelerated high G, computer aided dive bombing, visual dive bombing as well as similar modes for rockets and missiles. While the F-4 Phantom is a sexy looking, supersonic fighter, where we are going, the A-6 will carry more, go faster with that load and do it in almost any kind of weather. 

I had just come to 224 from the A-6 training squadron, Marine All Weather Training Squadron 202. At 202 I was pretty green, with silver Air Force wings, not the gold wings of a Naval Aviator. VMAT (AW) 202 taught us new pilots the basics of flying the A-6 Intruder, landings, basic handling and how the pilot manages his side of the cockpit. New Bombardier Navigators at 202 began learning their side of the cockpit, operating the A-6 computer, inertial platform, air data computer, search and track radars, ordinance panel and a myriad of system details. At 202, new pilots did not fly with new B/N's. We flew with senior combat experienced pilots and B/N's. 

I was particularly impressed with Captain Beckman, a combat experienced A-6 pilot. Beckman had been awarded the Silver star for evading fifteen surface to air missiles over North Vietnam.

On a single mission.

At 202, I also had the fortune to acquire over 25 hours in the Grumman TC4C, a twin turboprop passenger style airplane, but with an A-6 radar and computer system. Instead of passenger seats, the plane had a number of stations for trainee Bombardier/ Navigators to sit, with radar screens and computer controls similar to the B/N side of the A-6 cockpit. Most pilots did not go on TC4C training flights, but I took the opportunity to go when there was a spare training station available in order to learn radar return interpretation. 

The pilot side of the A-6 cockpit has a radar repeater screen below the main attitude indicator. I figured that learning radar return interpretation might avoid hitting a mountain on a night combat mission.

After getting basic qualification at 202, newbie pilots and B/N's went to 224.

Of all the B/N's that I fly with in training at 224, Jim Homan and I hit it off. I am not sure why, except that Homan has a great sense of humor. Jim will see something amusing in a situation that would otherwise make me grumpy, and at the same time he knows how to operate the A-6 system to get us to target and back.

After an overnight cross country training flight to Offutt AFB, Omaha Nebraska, Jim proved his worth and sense of humor. Starting the climb toward home, I noticed that the controls seemed stiff, so I declared an emergency and landed back at Offutt. After shutdown on the ramp, Jim, acting on a hunch, checked the area in the tail of the airplane where our baggage was stored and discovered that a bag had shifted causing the control binding and slight damage to a control rod. Jim made minor repairs and we prepared to depart again, but the Bird Colonel Air Force Operations Officer decided that we couldn't leave until his technical people checked the airplane and found it safe- 

The following week.

Consulting with 224 Operations back at Cherry Point, it turned out that in the Marine Corps, a Second Lieutenant aircraft commander can decide whether the airplane is airworthy, sign for it and depart. I explained that fact to the Air Force Colonel and we left.

Coming back to Base Ops at Quonset Point, Rhode Island on another overnight cross country, Homan and I discovered that our airplane had been started and moved by an A-6 pilot from another squadron "To make room for an incoming General's airplane." It all would have been fine, except that a Navy rating's hat had gotten sucked off of his head and into the left engine while it was still running.

When we arrived, a very apologetic Navy Chief explained all this to us, while out on the flight line Navy ratings were in the engine intake picking out as much hat as they could find.

Checking with 224 Maintenance back at Cherry Point, we decided to run the engine up with the starting compressor without lighting it off to see how it sounded. More hat pieces came out of the tailpipe. Another check with 224 Maintenance cleared us to run it up, light it off and take off if the engine was good on run up- "If you can get it airborne, you can bring it home on one engine." 

Homan was OK with that possibility. 

Good man.

It turned out that Pratt & Whitney engines are tough, we made it home to Cherry Point without further incident. After examining the affected engine, 224 Maintenance said it was fine.

On another overnight cross country flight to Laughlin AFB, Del Rio Texas where, over the previous year I had earned Silver Air Force Wings, Jim again proved his worth. Attempting to start up for departure, the A-6 electrical system would not accept the quality of electric power being generated by the Air Force auxiliary power cart. Homan unstrapped and climbed out on the wing behind the canopy, unscrewed a panel and hot wired the recalcitrant relay with a coat hanger from our baggage. The A-6 started right up.

Taxiing out at Laughlin, I asked Tower for permission to fly a low pass. Tower came back, "Low pass approved."

Hmmmm, they didn't give us any speed limitation, did they? Maybe we won't come by the Tower low and slow, gear down......

After lift off, I cleaned up the airplane and left the throttles at 100%, staying at 300 feet. Flying a wide pattern, by the time we came around to final approach, still at 300 feet but now doing 500 knots. Passing the tower, I pulled the airplane 50 degrees nose high with a five G pull up and rolled out at 15,000 feet on course to Cherry Point.

Besides all the goofing around on cross country flights, Jim and I did a lot of serious training at places like Navy Dare, a practice target near the coast of North Carolina, inland of where the Wright Brothers first flew. At Dare, we ran a racetrack pattern, in the sunlight at 3,500 feet on downwind but diving down through a solid cloud layer to break out underneath at 500 feet, 500 knots inbound to the target, getting nearly perfect hits with our load of Mark 76 practice bombs. While we were doing that, another squadron mate, a senior Major transitioning to A-6's from helicopters, flew the pattern at 3,500 feet without descending for a low level run in. 

Wuss.

Later, a night, simulated combat mission to a practice target at Pinecastle Bombing Range in Florida. Climbing out of Cherry Point in the dark to 18,000 feet, flying to about Gainesville Florida and dropping to 500 feet, screaming in at 500 knots to drop a single practice Mark 76 at Pinecastle, a hundred miles East of Ocala for a near perfect hit, then climbing out and back to Cherry Point. 

Interspersed with flights to distant practice targets, we honed visual dive bombing, rocket and missile delivery at Stumpy Point and other local practice targets and continued to work on instrument flying as well as carrier approaches at nearby Bogue Field. 

All in all Jim and I flew together fairly often but no more than would be expected. A constant stream of pilots and B/N's were coming into and leaving 224, so we each flew with other pilots and B/N's, both newbies and those who came back from Vietnam with combat experience.

By June, 1969, Homan and I both have the necessary Combat Readiness Points and receive orders to Da Nang, Vietnam.

There are two Marine A-6 squadrons at Da Nang. Arriving in the first week of July, Jim and I are assigned to 225 (Marine All Weather Attack Squadron 225), but won't fly together again until October. Over the twelve months in Country we will fly eight combat missions together and one Test Flight. 

Two of those combat missions are memorable, as well as the Test:

12 January 1970

A clear day at Da Nang, Jim and I take a new 373 series airplane (Bu No 155709) out for a test flight, On this flight we wring out the airplane, checking all electro/ mechanical systems and avionics for proper function. Being a new airplane, all checks are good as expected and the test checklist is complete after about 45 minutes of flight, ending up out over the South China Sea, maybe twenty miles East of Da Nang.

We still have quite a bit of fuel remaining after completing the test, so.... what to do.... what to do? Flying combat missions day and night for the last five months, there has been no opportunity to just have fun with an airplane, especially with Jim on board. It has been a long time since doing any aerobatics just for the fun of it. 

Maybe a loop or two before heading back to Da Nang. Jim thinks it's a good idea.

So I set up and enter a loop, pulling up at 400 knots, four G's, easing the G over the top and pulling power back to idle on the down side of the loop. The Intruder is clean, so it wants to accelerate on the down side of the loop even at idle. I want the loop to be nice and round, and increase G back to four G's as we go through straight down, pulling out level at the entry altitude and bumping through the wake of our entry. Thinking that the loop was a good one, I add power for level flight but notice that the engine instrument tapes for the left engine are winding down. 

The left engine has flamed out. 

I immediately hit the air start button on the left throttle and the engine winds back up to normal RPM.

What happened?

Well, this is a test flight, isn't it? Maybe another loop to see if we can see what caused the flameout.

The second loop goes much the same as the first, maybe a little more G in the pull up and down the back side of the loop. But this time as I level the airplane, the engine tapes for BOTH engines are winding down. I hit the air start buttons for both engines and they re-start.

Time to go back to Da Nang.

Back at Da Nang, the Executive Officer is not happy. We should have come home after the first flameout.

Even though I am indestructible, he might be right. 

Homan is amused, he doesn't get sent to FAC school, but I do.

Much later we find that the newer engines are subject to flameout at idle and high G loading. A Note is placed in the NATOPS Manual.

15 May 1970, 0600- 1200

From 6 AM to 12 Noon, I am Operations Duty Officer for 225. Today, every day, seven days a week until the next time the squadron stands down for a day. We stand down once a month or so.  As PRODO (Professional Operations Duty Officer), I am at my desk in the ready room at the Flight Line monitoring airplane and crew availability to meet 225's 24 hour a day, seven day a week flight schedule. A 225 airplane goes out on a combat mission every 2 hours.  Twelve airplanes and crews have to be ready on time every day, loaded and qualified for each mission.  There are about six different types of mission flown every day, each type with its own specific requirements for ordinance load, as well as available aircraft  systems.

Because 225 operates 24 hours a day, it takes four of us, working four, 6- hour shifts to cover the Duty Officer job. Often an airplane will be found to have a mechanical or electrical problem by the outgoing crew. In that event, I have to work with maintenance, Avionics, Airframes and Ordinance to get another airplane ready to replace the down airplane. The job is complex enough that only four flight crew members are assigned to it at any given time.

I flew yesterday, a Beacon Mission with a 1530 takeoff and 1700 landing time. PRODO for six hours this morning. Tonight, it is a 2000 takeoff, 2030 time on target, 2130 land.

No matter how Schedules handles it, it is hard to get enough sleep. Sleep is usually a few hours at a time, between PRODO, missions and getting something to eat.  

In combat, human error increases risk-

A portion of the Marine All weather Attack Squadron 225 Flight Schedule written 14 May 1970:

CREW                       T/O              LAND             MISSION               ORD                  TOT

LT  GARING             2000             2130              AR/SEED              12  D-2Y            2030

LT HOMAN                                                             CB                       6 D-27

Our mission tonight is a combination mission, an Armed Reconnaissance of the HO Chi Minh Trail in Laos to drop the six D-27 mines on a section of the Trail. After that, a Commando Bolt mission where we will orbit over a sector in Laos while in contact with "Moonbeam", the airborne controller in the sector. Moonbeam is monitoring sensors on the ground and if they detect significant movement, such as a truck convoy, they will determine the location of the movement and then send us coordinates so that we can make a strike on that location.

We will be carrying twelve, five hundred pound bombs with contact fuses as well as six mines which, after dropped will lie inert unless their magnetic field detects something worth blowing up.

1900  

Jim and I meet in the squadron ready room and briefly discuss tonight's mission. Da Nang is dry, but solid overcast. The weather is expected to be scattered clouds over Laos.

There is always groundfire when over Laos, 23 mm, 37mm, a few new 57 mm's and an occasional 85. The 23, 37 and 57 mm shells are tracers, to help the gunners with their shot placement. On a clear night, their tracers look for all the world like red hot golf balls streaming up toward the airplane, usually in five round strings because the guns are fed with five round clips. Most of the shells have sensors set to explode at a given time or altitude. When they explode, they look like flash bulbs going off in rapid succession, filling the sky with hot shrapnel.

 We suit up in the paraloft, putting on our torso harnesses, G suits, survival vests, helmets and guns. 

At the airplane, Jim preflights landing gear, engine bays and fuselage, I look at the bombs, wings and tail section. Our helmets have two visors, one dark for day flying and one clear for night. We always have the clear visor down at night in case shrapnel comes through the canopy or we have to eject into a five hundred knot maelstrom. Preflighting, we have our clear visors down to avoid getting stuck in the eye by one of the 18 arming wires which hold the fusing propellers stationary on each of the bombs or mines until they are released from the bomb rack.

Climbing into the cockpit, the crew chief helps us strap in after removing the red flagged ejection seat safety pins.

While the airplane electrical system is powered up by an auxiliary ground generator, Jim enters route information into the computer and finishes his attack system checks while I complete my pre start checklist. With his OK, I start the engines and switch us to internal electrical power. 

Ground control clears us to runway 17 Right, where we complete final pre takeoff checklists.

Even though Da Nang is overcast, visibility on takeoff roll is good, the ceiling is fairly high at 1,200 feet. We are a little lighter than usual, about 55.000 pounds all up, less than maximum gross weight of 60,400 pounds. After liftoff, I raise the landing gear and start the obligatory left turn to avoid ground fire from no man's land off the departure end of the 17's.

As usual in the climb toward Laos, I check with Da Nang Direct Air Support Control Center to make sure we are clear of any artillery firing along our route West into Laos. DASC says we are clear.

During the climb, Jim updates the attack system, a task he will do several times as the mission progresses. The A-6 has the latest state of the art system which combines navigation and attack modes, but the inertial platform gyros are not perfect, so errors can accumulate. Jim updates the system by setting the radar cursor on a precise known location with a discreet radar return from the ground ahead and informs the computer of that return's location.

I am on instruments in the climb for only a short time, breaking out of the overcast just west of Da Nang at 5,000 feet, climbing to 14,000 feet Westbound. As we cross into Laos, a lone 37 mm gun opens up, sending a couple of five round strings of tracers in our direction, but the rounds go wide. I don't bother to maneuver, but Jim takes affront and slews his computer cursor over to his best estimate of the location of the gun and saves it. 

Good man, payback will be later.

Radar control Panama switches us to Moonbeam, the airborne controller over Laos. Checking with Moonbeam, Moonbeam switches us over to Bat 06, an airborne forward air controller in order to obtain information on his location and routing.We need to be clear of him, he is a relatively slow unlighted airplane that we do not want to run into. Bat 06 is flying  low, visually looking for movement on the many threads of the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos. 

A brief two way conversation with Bat 06 reveals he is not operating close enough to our route or target area for us to be a hazard, so we go back to Moonbeam and proceed on our route to drop the  six D-27 mines on a preselected segment of the Ho Chi Minh Trail. The mine drop goes routinely, we don't concern ourselves about tracking the time of fall or looking for bomb damage. The mines will sit inert until something with enough iron in it to be detected by the mine approaches. Only when the magnetic signature decreases slightly, will the mine decide to explode.

We still have the twelve D-2, 500 pound bombs for the Commando Bolt mission segment, so I climb back to 14,000 feet and establish a race track orbit at our maximum endurance speed of 250 knots. The idea is to be able to stay on station in contact with Moonbeam as long as possible to give Moonbeam time to locate an active target using the ground sensors that they monitor. This requires the A-6 to be slow, burning as little fuel as possible to stay airborne.

Orbiting and waiting gives us a chance to relax briefly. It is very dark, with no moon, yet visibility is very good. Maybe thirty miles Northwest, a pair of Navy F-4's are visually dive bombing a target under bright parachute flares, probably near Mu Gia Pass with Bat 06 as their controller. They are on a different frequency, so we don't hear them but Moonbeam keeps us apprised of what's up. We watch tracers streaming up and exploding under the flares, hopefully not too close to the F-4's.

After orbiting for ten minutes or so, Moonbeam comes up.

"Manual 75, Moonbeam.  I have a target for you, standby for coordinates."

As soon as I hear that transmission, I advance the throttles to 100% power and the airplane begins to accelerate, still in orbit at 14,000 feet. Jim talks to Moonbeam, copying down coordinates and other details

After putting the coordinates into the computer, Jim comes up on the intercom- "That's Ban Karai Pass."

Ban Karai Pass is one of the mountain road passes on the Ho Chi Minh Trail in North Vietnam leading into Laos. It is one of the more heavily defended routes used by the North Vietnamese army to transport war material South in Laos, then into the Republic of South Vietnam.

Unlike other sections of the Trail, at Ban Karai, enemy traffic is concentrated into a narrow pass area. Because of that, this pass is one of the locations that we frequently interdict. 

Back in the squadron ready room, estimates bantered about are maybe 200 big guns in and around Ban Kurai. I would guess that 2,000 antiaircraft rounds were fired in our direction the last time I went through. 

While we are still accelerating in orbit at full throttle, Jim sets up the bomb intervalometer and selects bomb stations for the drop. Of the twelve D-2, 500 pound bombs still hanging on the airplane, we will drop eleven.

Jim comes up on the intercom- "That is your steering to the target." I've already seen the heading bug on the periphery of my radar repeater scope swing around to the Southeast, distance to target is 30 nautical miles. The Visual Display Indicator is telling me to turn Southeast.

The airspeed indicator has climbed to about 300 knots while we are getting set up for the attack, but now I lower the nose and head toward the target, but not directly to it. I want to fly so that we have a left four G dogleg turn of about 30 degrees, not heading direct to the target until we are about five miles out. At five miles I will turn straight in, covering the remaining distance in a little less than 30 seconds. 

Ban Karai Pass is at about elevation 1400, with 2,600 foot peaks on either side and a 5,300 foot mountain peak about six miles East. 

I am setting up to be just above the peaks on either side of the pass as we cross the target, so we have to lose about 10,000 feet and will gain a lot more speed by the time we reach bomb release point.

These tactics are intended to throw off the aim of the gunners ahead and below. We hope they won't realize how fast we are going and will tend to shoot behind us. The dogleg at the end will help.

With no moon, it is pitch black out, very little of the terrain below is visible. Because I can't see the terrain ahead, I have to keep one eye on my radar repeater scope, watching for long shadows on the radar returns. Long shadows indicate terrain at or above the airplane. 

Jim is doing the same, but he is also occupied with managing the attack system, a final update and putting the system into Attack.

Ground fire is picking up. Not just a few tracers here and there, more fire is concentrated toward the airplane. Tracers are occasionally out in front of us, like streams of red hot golf ball coming up. It looks as though the gunners are leading the airplane. With tracers coming closer, I am pulling G's, so far just two or three, to the left or right, looking ahead for upcoming streams of fire by rolling the airplane 60 degrees each way to get a look at what is coming toward us.

At the same time, as we gain speed the noise in the cockpit is increasing. At 100% power and 450 knots and still descending, airflow over bombs, arming wires, fuse propellers and bomb racks is starting to howl. Even through our helmet ear cups.

Passing through 6,000 feet, Jim comes up on the intercom- "you are in Attack, I am in AMTI." I see that the Visual Display Indicator is indicating a left turn to where the target is located. 

I'm looking for radar shadows on my repeater scope as well as the track of tracers coming toward the airplane so that I can maneuver out of their path.

There is more ground fire and the air is getting bumpy, jolting us around in the cockpit. At five miles, a four G left turn puts us on a direct course to where Moonbeam's coordinates say the target is located. Jim is scanning his radar scope for movers while the system is in Airborne Moving Target Identifier mode. A moving truck or convoy on the ground is a bright blip if the radar can detect it. I squeeze the commit trigger on the stick, telling the computer that it is authorized to drop the bombs when it reaches a solution.

Jim comes up on the intercom- "I've got a Track lock on." He's got something on the ground that the radar has determined to be moving and locked on to it with the track radar.

Leveling at 3,000 feet just before bomb release, tracers are streaming up from both sides of the airplane and some are flashing over the canopy. Noise in the cockpit is a cacophony from near supersonic air flow screeching over bombs, fuse propellers, arming wires and racks, making communication difficult. Here I hold the airplane level and stable to give the computer a few seconds to generate a release solution.

Just before bomb release, I glance at the groundspeed indicator. 570 knots, very close to the speed of sound.

The airplane shudders as the eleven 500 pound bombs are released at about four bombs per second, just enough time between each release to prevent bomb to bomb collisions.

After the last bomb is released, I pull to the right and slightly up at six G's. Now that the airplane is free of the drag of the eleven 500 pound bombs, it should be able to keep it's speed up even when I am pulling six G's.

For the next two minutes or so, it seems impossible to evade the tracers, they are coming from both sides, streaming over the canopy, no matter which way I pull. Six or more G's left and right, there is no time to look at the G meter to see how hard I am pulling, only to see where the tracers are coming.

Finally we are out of the high threat area and the ground fire has diminished, we are far enough away that the Pass gunners give up. 

A glance at the air speed indicator shows 350 knots. That would say that I have been pulling a lot of G's over the last two minutes. A clean A-6 is capable of accelerating while pulling six G's, so we must have been pulling a lot more than that to slow down this much, starting at 570 knots.

Leveling at 15,000 feet Eastbound toward Da Nang and out of the high threat area, Jim reminds me that we have one 500 pound bomb left.  

A present for the lone gunner that fired at us on the way West earlier. Jim again puts the system into Attack and shortly thereafter with a thump, our last bomb is released, headed toward our best estimate of that gun's location.

Maybe he won't shoot at us again.

Crossing from Laos into Vietnam, I reach down to the panel on my left to turn the airplane navigation lights back on.

Uh Oh! The navigation lights are STILL on. That explains the close fire we received during the attack on Ban Karai Pass. We were clearly visible the whole way in.

Da Nang is still overcast, ceiling dropping. Local radar control "Joyride" vectors us to a precision GCA, ground controlled approach. The final 2,000 feet of decent to runway 17 Right at Da Nang is via precision vectors, one or two degree heading changes and tiny changes in decent rate guided by the ground controller all the way to 100 feet above touchdown.

2200

After stowing our gear at the Para Loft and filling out the squawk sheet on the airplane , Jim and I catch a ride to the squadron living area. I manage to get a drink at the O' Club, then head for my hooch. There I finish the letter to Kathy I started earlier in the day, put my flack jacket back on and take it to the outgoing mailbox.

 I never mail a letter to Kathy until I am safely back on the ground.

Back in my hooch, I set my alarm for tomorrow's 0600- 1200 PRODO job and think about tomorrow's night mission into Laos.

I sure as hell won't forget to turn off the navigation lights before going into a high threat area again

  19 June 1970

Jim and I fly another mission together today, a day Beacon mission. Nothing goes awry, but something memorable does happen.

After engine shutdown, we are climbing down the aircraft boarding ladders when a fire truck pulls up and a bunch of squadron mates jump off the truck and proceed to hose both Jim and I with water and pop the cork on a bottle of champagne, the traditional signal that we have flown our last combat mission.

In the next few weeks, Jim will rejoin his wife June and daughter Molly and I will marry Kathy, the girl of my dreams

Notes:

570 Knots is about 650 MPH, the speed of sound at 3,000 feet is about 655 MPH 

I flew 138 Combat missions in Vietnam, Jim flew 250. He did not get sent out in the field as a Forward Air Controller for three months like I did.

I did not see Jim or anyone else from the squadron again until 1977, our first Squadron Reunion, held in Chicago. We have had reunions every five years thereafter until 2008, when we switched to three year reunions. We will have a 50 year reunion next May near Cherry Point, North Carolina where it all began.*

*James Garing Email June 28, 2018 5:58pm “Don’t Forget to Turn Out the Lights”

Desert Shield/Desert Storm DDCA Drug war, Sea Angel, DoD PI Evac

Late in the 1980s, at least after 1985, I inquired at Headquarters Marine Corps (HQMC) for any sort of active duty that could relieve me of the boredom of corporate life. I was involved with a start-up business in San Antonio, but really the only productive part of that was the consulting efforts of my partner. I had been fairly successful cultivating a network of contacts in Reserve Affairs in DC, and was viewed as available and reliable. I was a senior LtCol, who could operate in new environments and accomplish short duration tasks without a lot of baggage.

My best lead was 3 weeks at Marine Forces Pacific (MARFORPAC), Camp Smith, HA covering the Operations Shop while one of the action officers was on leave. This grew into a 5-6 year adventure that saw me passed over for Colonel 3 times and eventually promoted. It resulted in my 2nd war and a recall to active duty 1991-1992. During my initial Hawaii trip I made contacts with CINCPAC Reserve Affairs office and was able to join the cadre of officers they relied on for odd jobs, leave coverage or Command Center operations. I was in my dream job. If only I could maintain it while the Marine Corps attempted to rid itself of me due to being passed over by annual Reserve Promotion Board for Colonel. 

Two events coincided that made all this possible. The Department of Defense became involved in assisting in the Drug War and Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait.

I had been on several Reserve Exercises with units from Chicago and New York City. Many of these Reservists were center city Cops. In the early to late 80s, these officers possessed more “shots fired” or urban terrorism experience than any of the active duty military. When we arrived as part-time Marines at any of the East or West Coast Marine Bases, we were usually viewed as, at most, at waste of valuable budget dollars. That is until the local Military Police and security were briefed by the only experienced high threat or drug enforcement players at that time. Coincidentally, the Reagan Administration established the Drug Enforcement Administration and committed the Pentagon to assisting the FBI, Customs and DEA with this effort.

I was having some success getting orders to active duty through the network I had discovered in MCB Camp Smith near Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Seeing an opportunity to enjoy more time at Pacific Command, I wrote an article suggesting the Reserve Assets could easily be used to expand both the expertise and integration of DoD support for this new initiative. This worked beautifully and earned me 30 day order working at USCINCPAC, J33 (the drug office coordinating DoD support for Pacific Command).

Then, while I was completing the Army War College by correspondence, Iraq invaded Kuwait! I was on active duty and became part of the Crisis Action Team that implemented Pacific Commands part of Operation Desert Shield, (the massive movement of resources, people, equipment and support to Saudi Arabia). I was also able manipulate my official recall to active duty and June and I moved to Honolulu full time.

As Pacom was only a supporting command for Desert Shield and Desert Storm, a small cadre of us Reserve Officers ran the crisis action response while the full time CINCPAC staff concentrated on their regular responsibilities. Over the next year we covered the Pacific Command response to a Coup in Manila, an earthquake outside Clark Air Force Base and Typhoon in Bangladesh along with supporting our success in the Middle East. And the several letters from senior officers persuaded a Marine Promotion Board cause my advancement to Colonel. I felt like Lazarus! 

Part 2 Leadership Vs. Management

My Reserve Contract in the Corps was due to end in July of 1971. I arrived back at Jackson Mobile Home Park, Havelock, NC outside Marine Corps Air Base Cherry Point in July 1970 with little fanfare. This is where June had elected to remain with our daughter, Molly, while I was off to war. Life was still a mystery for me and had changed dramatically while I was gone. After reacquainting myself with our, now 2 year old daughter, June asked if I was remembered that, we had a son, James, “Jimi”, now 3 months old.

Along with that confusion, I was thrust into a military that was rapidly downsizing to a peacetime structure. My, now normal, 24 hour time horizon was complicated by significant responsibilities and very little usable knowledge or credentials. A BA in History with mediocre grades from a good university meant nothing. Three years experience/expertise in flying attack jets in Vietnam meant next to nothing. And after a minor attempt to request a permanent commission, I was notified that we, June, Molly, Jimi and I would be on the street August, 1971. Oh, June would then then be due in 30 Days with our 3rd child.

Proving the adage that “God looks after the young and ignorant; I received a job offer during the last 60 days on our active duty. And we were offered $3000 cash for the Mobile Home we were going to abandon in North Carolina….the next day. We were off to Chicago for a training program with Memorex….I had been asked in the interview wether I knew anything about computers? The Intruder had a drum memory computer and I was going to be train to be a computer salesmen???

We arrived north of Chicago in August. Spent the $3000 cash as down payment on a townhouse….basically to get out of our basement quarters with June’s brother and his 4 kids under 4! Brian was born in October and I was laid off from Memorex just before Christmas. This must be why I seem to recognize some of the Zombies currently on the silver screen.

Throughout this I had this dazed optimism. I was a Marine Warrior and if I persisted somehow it would be recognized. I did not really like civilian life but I realized I had to figure it out. At an interview for another computer sales job, the savvy District Sales Manager lectured me on the benefits of bribing Purchasing Agents! Deciding that I needed a credible credential for business, I applied to Northwestern University Kellogg School, evening Masters in Management Program (MBA) At the admissions interview the apparent draft dodging recruiter ask me if “I had killed anyone in Vietnam”…..”I hope so, we tried hard enough.”

A train ride into the City to a job as Computer Services Salesmen for Continental Bank and night school defined the next 3 years. Moderately successful but very bored, I was amazed that most of my peers were looking to develop experitese/seniority in dredging their way through relatively mundane tasks to make money. Grad School was attempting to justify the mantra that all actions were positive if good for business!

I was developing an understanding that leadership was different than management. And that I needed to know/experience a broad range of responsibilities rather become an expert in some administrative task. I realized that in order to survive I would either have to discover a self funding patient or blunder into business for sale. I had to be able to “be in charge of something vital”. Later, when it became a buzzword, I defined my form of PTSD as severe boredom with civilian, domestic, corporate life.

I received my Masters in June and left the Bank in August when a promised promotion did not materialize. I also rediscovered the Marine Corps and joined a local reserve unit, Marine Air Control Group, MACG 48. My further career would be defined by searching for the next perfect opportunity or venture. And then escaping to extended Reserve contracts when boredom arrived.

Throughout my 30 year corporate/civilian career I sought to expand my position as a generalist rather than an expert finance, accounting or marketing type. My thought was to move toward the power vacuums in most organizations. Find the people who were the experts. Give them the authority to make decisions and as I gained more responsibility, protect them from the micro-managers over me. My main accomplishment was developing new leaders……by leading not managing. I worked very hard to convince those I led that we were working together. I was a fairly smart person but at best I could be right 80% of the time. If I managed every decision, that was our ultimate accomplishment. They, obviously weren’t as smart as me but if they were even correct 50% of the time and we worked together, we could approach closer to 95% success. 

The common business adage was, one delegated responsibility not authority. You had to oversee the people under you and insure they did not screw up. Tell them exactly what you wanted done. Typically, most people developed a secure position by only doing what they were told. So the organization could only operate within the expertise of the boss.

My thought was to develop a joint working relationship. Insure the team knew what we were working to accomplish and not defining how to accomplish the mission. I figured by expanding the authority spectrum, we maximized our performance capacity. You have to insure the organization knows who is actually performing and take responsibility for all the risk. The downside is, unless management prizes leadership, you are working yourself out of a paycheck. Which I did many times. Memorex, 2 months; Continental Bank, 4 years; Abbot Labs, 2 years; Gould Inc, 3 years; Refrigeration Products, 2 years; Chorus Data Systems, 2 years; Pete Fogg LLC, 1 year; Motorola, 9 years ( 3years at a time); Mitchell Aircraft, 2 years. Then, in 1997, I was notified that Marine Colonels are only allowed 30 years of commissioned service. So I had to retire….we did not want the type of war that would cause my promotion to General.

Afghanistan, Iraq, Armenia, Hong Kong

Part 3 Living Outside the Wire

My life is defined by the Marine Corps, Vietnam and be several opportunities to live, operate and lead in some interesting and strange environments. I call it “living outside the wire” as opposed to existing in a simulated and secure American place. Think of this as living out in town rather than on a military base. I usually lived and rubbed shoulder with the locals. Many of these were classified as high threat environments. This was due to the possibility of environmental or actual physical violence. Also, as I was not blessed with a gift for languages, my existence and safety demanded an advanced awareness of the cultural, tribal and situational risks minute by minute.

Motorola Russia St Petersburg Telecom Vladimir Putin

In 1990 my Reserve billet was the Joint Command Center for the senior 4 star commander in the Pacific Theater, United States Commander in Chief Pacific (USCINCPAC), Marine Corps Base (MCB) Camp Smith, Hawaii. This Base overlooks Hickham AFB & USN Pearl Harbor outside of Honolulu, Hawaii. This posting changed our lives and marked the culmination of random experiences to a defined successful direction. I would be finally promoted to Colonel in the Marine Corps. I would seize the initiative to score only leadership roles. And while I continued to meander through corporate venues, I had the experience and credential to be in charge of each move. And after engineering my recall to active duty 1990-1991 on the Crisis Action Team- Operations for multiple operations around Desert Storm, I was able to start renewed after our return to civilian life.

On returning our home in Waukegan, IL, I was contacted by a good friend from Gould, who now was a director at Motorola New Ventures Division. They were committing funds to a venture that would ultimately mirror the present day data base search internet. The vast amount of time research engineers spent finding the correct chip for the exploding electronic hardware industry, would fund the creation of a technology to digitize all of the catalogues involved in the search. I was brought into manage the outside contract to develop that system.

While this project never made it out of the birthing stage, I did develop a move to the Network Ventures Division and being assign as their representative at St. Petersburg Telecom in St Petersburg, Russia. This was a very interesting time in the Soviet Union. The wall was down and there was heavy investment in capitalism. The Soviet Union itself was still intact except the European Satellites which were now free. There were many westerners starting small very profitable business. The Russians were selling anything of interest to gain capital and there was no real track of title as the State had owned everything.  The Mafia was just forming and it was the “wild Wild West”.

Motorola Network Ventures had worked an investment in a analog cellular operation in St Petersburg Russia. We partnered with the City and the 2 Russians who had brought us the business. Motorola an 45%, the City 45%, but we controlled the 10% given to the Russian team. There were 2 Deputy Mayors, one sat on our board and the other was Vladimir Androvich Putin. It was very apparent that Putin owned the Russian 10% and called the shots for the business. Motorola assigned a Jewish Women as Chairman on the Board and I was the on site Motorola representative. The entire staff was Russian, mostly former Russian Army Communication. 

While the Russians were very technically savvy they had no concept for marketing or operating a for profit business. When we started operation we were having problems getting Motorola cell phones and were arranging to purchase from black market US domestic suppliers. I forced the operation to start and was informed the lack of supply was a Soviet normal….anything good was never in stock.

I operated in the environment for 3 years living in a $350/night suite in the Grand Europe Hotel. Always through interpreters, anytime we had serious problems we would set down with Putin and he would solve it. I always knew he understood English but I never heard him speak it. He was responsible for our safety and ability to wander across the city.

Soon after I left the ruble devalued drastically. Many of the profitable businesses were visited by very scary people offering unrefusable takeovers. Putin moved to Moscow and the other Deputy Mayor was assassinated in a drive-bye. I did meet a former Marine who would introduce me to the security consulting field in 2001.  

It is interesting to note some of the effects of 60 years/2 generations of Soviet Rule. There was no memory of religion! The people knew they were ethnically “Jewish” or “Orthodox” but they had no real feel for what that meant. While there was a strict upperclass “more equal Communist”, there was also a commonplace attitude of “we pretend to work and they pretend to pay us”. Banks and the ruble currency were not trusted. It is estimated the more than ½ of the $100 USD in circulation were held in Russia as common saving. When the US re-issued new $100 bills, I was approached repeatedly by people who thought we wouldn’t stand by the old currency. I could have gained a 15% premium to exchange new for old.

Personal security was dependent upon acquired backing…”your roof”. The backing of Deputy Mayor, former KGB, Putin was as high as you go. Not everyone was excited about the new freedom and income…the close nit friendly nature of personal relationships was hard to give up. Hours and hours of work for filthy lucre was not worth it. There was no understanding or belief in running a business or marketing. They had stood in line for years for nonexistent products and actually having inventory was astonishing!

Iridium 

Prague Czech Project

As the Russia project floundered due to the Ruble devaluation and political chaos, I started to search Motorola for another opportunity. The Infrastructure Division had won a bid to design and install the first analogue cellular system in the Czech Republic. Deutsche Telecom would manage the project for the Czech operator and insure they satisfied the legal requirements of the government license. Motorola had hired a retired US Army Brigadier General to direct its team in country; I grabbed the opportunity to live in Prague and be one of the senior project managers on the multi year project. June joined me on this venture, leveraging her nursing qualification to become the Medical Director for the US Embassy in Prague. We sold our home and moved into a newly renovated apartment just off the main square. We definitely enjoyed our time discovering a beautiful country and making lifetime friends. But the project side of the operation became a case study for all that was screwed up with Motorola.

Motorola Infrastructure Sales bid the contract only to sell equipment…they made their commission with no consequences by accepting impossible time constraints. They also committed Motorola to draconian dollar penalties that were the responsibility of the project team. Our German partners bid their management contract with the Operator counting on the penalty as income. Our Project Team immediately understood the schedule was impossible, but our naïve retired flag officer thought it was an oversight he could correct. Needless to say our part in the play was to take the fall and after a year our Project Director was fired when the penalty was paid. The new team came in as hero’s completing the build as we had forecast. 

I learned several valuable lessons watching various people lining their own pockets and using others without any expected regards for ethical guidance…what was good for business was okay!

June and I moved back to the US, and I left Motorola the first time. I thought working for friends in a more entrepreneurial venture might end my search success in the corporate world.

Mitchell Aircraft 

There are a few accomplishments that I feel worth bragging about…developing leaders within an organization and connecting strategic partners. In the early 1980s I was approached a few of my reserve buddies looking for advice investment opportunities. They all were working for a large corporation that brokered aircraft parts in the aftermarket. When I suggested they weren’t prepared for the commitment of breaking off on their own, they lost interest in my advice. I did recognize an opportunity for one of them that was unemployed but knowledgeable of the industry. Another good friend from my days at Abbot Labs was struggling but holding his own in a small aviation clock distribution business. I suggested they meet and a million dollars partnership was developed. When I was returning from Prague, they were looking for someone to open the Asia market for their brand of brokerage.

This was only a 2 year venture that died a slow death due to the 1997 recession, but it introduced me to the vast cultural complexities of east Asia. I was able to wander across China from Hong Kong and also compare businesses from Malaysia, South Korea and Japan. By watching how the large US corporations attempted to enter these markets and recognize the short tern goals of US management plus US interpretations of corruption, I learned one had to live in Asia to succeed. This did not fit with the vision of success demanded for my venture with friends.

1997 USMC Retired

Along with my short venture into entrepreneurship with friends, I finally received my 30 year letter from Headquarters Marine Corps. Our US military personnel system is an up and out reward structure. As a Major one can be guaranteed 20 years commissioned service but you had to be selected for Lieutenant Colonel by then or you were asked to retire. For Colonels the bewitching date was thirty years. As there was no way I would be selected for General, 1 July 1997 defend the end to my active reserve Marine life. I lost my security blanket and would have figure a way exist as a civilian. The period from 1998 to 2001 found me back at Motorola a 2nd time as a consulting project manager. This would take to South Africa, Germany and Thailand before getting laid off when the corporation started to implode. 

9/11 started me looking for ways to take advantage of the Command & Control operations and Security Marine experience.

Aviation Logistics Pakistan/Afghanistan $5million

2003  KBR Babel Tourist Hotel

MPRI/RTI Hillah, Ammar, Babylon Hotel Baghdad, Marble Hotel

Kroll

CRG

Yerevan Embassy, Night hunt, EXBIS Officer

Hong Kong Leadership

Izmir, Turkey NATO Land Southeast

Mitchell Xian Tericota Warriors. Clinton visit

Cairo visit

Click To Read

 Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance Al Hillah, Iraq

Poem - Vietnam Was My War