or the fact that our name isn't on that wall.
I know I grew up as young kid (5 or 6) watching live updates on the evening news from hamburger hill and approaching draft age looking over my shoulder.

 

My uncle had his uncle perish in Custer's last stand. That uncle avoided death on the USS California during Pearl Harbor. Five of my friends that I grew up with on Coronado Island (NAS North Island is there) lost their Naval Aviation fathers during the Vietnam war. Two of seven pilots in my initial class of attack pilots in NAS Lemoore CA died in aviation accidents. I rented a house as a newly married guy in Lemoore from the widow of a squadron mate who flew into the target in the Philippines during cruise. The executive officer of another sister squadron flew into the water at night. I can go on for more but death in naval aviation was and is a constant companion.

 

I lost two high school classmates in Viet Nam and I'll never forget them. I've gone to the Memorial and looked at their names etched on that wall and tearfully remembered their beautiful young faces.

 

Thanks Gene.

 

I was stationed on NAS North Island fromm64-66. I am reading a book now called Masters of the Air by Robert Mitchell. It tells the true story of the pilots and crew that flew bombing missions over Germany and some adjoining countries in WWII. In the beginning the B24 losses were staggering. They could not outmanuever the German Messerschmidts. Once we developed fighter planes with better long range fuel capacity our odds improved tremendously. There were over 26,000 airmen killed while flying bombing missions. That was more than all of the Marines that fought and died on all of the Pacific Islands. And there were no medics in any of the bombers. True hero’s, May they all RIP.

 

I read that as well. Great book. Interesting take on the kind of personality made it into aviation.

 

I wish I could have met him. Unfortunately, he died before I was born. He was a real character. He was a cowboy who broke broncos. He crewed on a banana boat from Panama to LA (and had a pet tarantula). I once tried on an old pair of his cowboy roughout boots. They fit perfectly. So I started wearing them, I wore them for a long time. My mother was thrilled.

 

Good thread. Thanks to all for posting.

I was a Navy Corpsman and Surgical Technician. For those that don't know, it means my primary job is to go to the front line of the battlefield and save the lives of as many Marines as possible. Any Marine I ever met would lay down their life to protect me. I'm the second target, after the Radioman.

Damn it, just posting this made me cry. Memorial Day is not a day to celebrate. R.I.P. brothers.

 

^ God Bless

 

The American D-Day soldiers who left messages in a castle

https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cyjj8xnlvz2o