William "Bill" Hughes

After I was wounded on Nov. 12, 
1965 theytransported us from 
3rd MASH at Bein Hoa to the
Third Field Hospital at Saigon. 
I stayed there for a fewdays 
and they took us via Army 
Ambulance ( noshocks) to the 
Air Strip at Ton Son Nhut for
transportation back to the 
states. My problem wasthat they 
had me on orders for Japan. 
After 20months in Nam I was 
ready to go home. They told me
that my wound was determined 
to be not seriousenough to be 
sent back to the states and 
that I wouldbe back in country 
in a month or two good as new.
Hell, at that point, the only 
part of my left leg that I
could move was my big toe. And 
moving that requiredall of the 
concentration that I could 
muster up. Ofcourse I tried 
to argue with the Captain, in 
charge, buthe assured me that 
he knew what he was talking
about. I laid there feeling 
sorry for myself butthinking, 
"ain't no way I'm going back 
there."
 
The first leg of the trip 
was to the Philippines. We
were transported on a C-141. 
I thought that it would
never get off the ground 
with all of the patients 
thatthey had loaded on, but 
it did and we arrived at
Scubic Bay  a few hours later. 
It took forever for them
to unload all of us from the 
ship and we were placed
in a medical barracks for 
the night. While there they
changed all of our bandages 
(not mine, but that'sanother 
story) feed us and we settled 
in for the night. Itried once 
again to convince them that 
they werewrong and that I 
should be sent back home. No
good! They were hell bent on 
sending me back tofinish my 
extended tour of 28 months.
 
Next morning after we were 
feed they loaded all of us
back on the C-141. Once 
again this took several
hours and while they were 
doing their job a Army
Nurse was walking around 
asking the wounded if there 
was anything that she could 
do for them. Mymind started 
going and I was thinking 
about whatstory I would tell 
her that would make her 
sympatheticenough to try to 
get my orders changed at 
least toHawaii or Calif. When 
she finally got to me my mouth
dropped and all I could do 
was stutter. Standing in
front of me was Marth Raye 
(the comedian). As itturns 
out she was a reserve Army 
Nurse and a full
Bird Col. at that. After I 
gained my composure I told
her my story and that I had 
been in country 20 months
and that I was ready to go 
home. She was very nice
and told me that she would 
inquire as to what might
be done to get me back in 
the land of the Big PX (my
words). If I recall correctly 
the plane took off about 45
minutes later.
 
When we arrived in Japan. 
They off loaded some of
the patients but I wasn't 
one of them. The flight 
took ofafter about a two hour 
delay. I didn't say anything
because I thought that they 
had made a mistake( and I 
wasn't about to correct them). 
Once we were on ourway ( I 
knew they wouldn't turn 
around) I asked anurse why I 
wasn't off loaded in Japan. 
She checkedmy orders and told 
me that my orders had been
changed to New York. When we 
arrived at Oaklandthey unloaded 
us again and this time a 
non-celebrityA.F. Col. came 

around and asked if there was
anything that we needed. This 
time I got my orderschanged 
to Valley Forge Hospital. About 
45 minutesfrom my home town. Of 
course I arranged to stay a
week at Walston Army Hospital 
at Fort Dix N.J.  About20 minutes 
from my home town.
 
By the way the Captain that said 
that I would be backin country 
in a month or two was wrong. My 
stay at Valley Forge lasted 8.5 months.
 
To this day no one can say 
anything bad aboutMartha Raye 
as far as I am concerned.
 

William "Bill" Hughes

When I arrived in country I was as 
wet behind the ears as anyone could 
be. I didn't know that much about 
this man's Army but I noticed 
something was wrong when I 
reported to the 57th. I didn't 
know that much about insignia 
and all of that but after going 
through medical training at Ft. Sam 
I did know what the MSC insignia 
looked like and after reporting, 
I noticed that all of my officers 
wore the caduceus of the MSC Corps. 
That is, all but one. His name 
was Lt.Garfield Schexnader. The 
Officers called him Chuck. Of 
course, I referred to him 
as SIR. Chuck, was the type of 
individual that seemed to enjoy 
life. He was always joking 
around and had an air of 
confidence that would be hard 
to match let alone exceed. 
I will give him this; he was 
one hell of a pilot. On his 
collar was the insignia of an 
Infantry Officer. I recall 
him telling all of the other 
officers that this is how 
we do this and how we do that 
in the infantry. His present 
assignment, at the 57th, was 
Maintenance Officer. I don't 
know how Chuck got misplaced 
but all in all I think that he 
enjoyed being with the 57th.

Those of you that think that 
you knew me really didn't. 
At the reunion I got into my 
philosophy of the Army with 
Si and Bob Mock. They are aware 
of the fact that I looked 
at my duty in Nam with pride. 
I was sent to Nam to perform 
a duty. That duty was as a 
medic. In short to patch up 
the sick & wounded and on 
occasion actually save a life. 
I took this part of my duty 
very seriously. As for the 
rest of it……..Well let's just 
say that it took SSgt Allen 
the better part of a year to, 
almost, figure out why I was 
never in the area when he had 
one of his shit details. 
Whenever one of them came up, 
Hughes was downtown on an 
errant for one or more of the 
officers. When SSgt. Allen 
left he told Sp/4 Eaton, " You 
know everyone thinks that 
Hughes is so dumb. Hell, he's 
one of smartest persons I 
have ever met. I've never 
seen anyone get out of work the 
way he does."

OK, this brings us up to LT. 
Schexnader and his monkey. 
It seems as though Chuck went 
into Saigon one night and 
really tied one on. The next 
morning when he arrived at 
the Operations Shack he looked 
like warmed over death. I 
believe he made a statement to 
the effect of never drinking 
again for the rest of his life. 
Anyway he seemed very 
anxious to talk to Sp/5 Wall. 
Now, those of you that knew 
Wall knew that he could find 
anything and that he was 
pretty handy with a hammer & saw. 
I watched, out of curiosity as 
Lt. Schexnader drew a diagram 
of something for Wall. Within 
two days old Clarence (Wall) 
had constructed a beautiful 
cage. Those of you that didn't 
serve in the Old Brown Boot 
Army (that's the 57th in 
early to mid 64) will not 
know this fact. The area  
between the Maintenance & 
Supply Shacks was vacant. 
There wasn't anything there 
(no building). This is where 
Clarence constructed this 
beautiful cage. It was approx. 
4-5 feet wide and about 8 Ft. 
in length and about 6 Ft. 
tall. It was a work of art. 
Still don't know where Clarence 
got the materials. But, like 
I said he could come up with 
just about anything you wanted.

Before the construction was 
over everyone knew what the 
cage was for. It seems that 
on that infamous night of 
drinking Lt. Schexnader 
bought a Monkey. I thought 
that the little thing was cute. 
But that was about to change……


Just before Clarence finished 
the cage Lt. Schexnader called 
me over to his desk. His exact 
words to me were, "Hughes it is 
going to be your responsibility 
to take 
care of the Monkey. That duty 
will include feeding him 
and cleaning his cage." I 
thought about it for a moment 
and then I told him that I 
didn't recall anything in my 
job description about taking 
care of primates. He grabbed 
my sleeve and at the same time 
grabbed his collar showing 
me his Lt. Bars. Of course as 
a Pvt. E-2 I had nothing 
on my sleeve so his point was 
understood.

 For the next few days I 
performed my duties 
(Monkey Keeper) as instructed. 
And each day I hated 
that monkey more than the 
day before. It kept me up 
at nights trying to figure 
out how I could get out of 
that F-----G assignment. 
Then it came to me……..

From that day on when we 
arrived at the flight line 
for Morning  Roll Call I would 
walk through the Orderly shack. 
Back then there was an open area 
in the rear of the shack. 
That is to say that there wasn't 
an office in the rear 
right hand corner across from 
the CO's office. In this 
open area there was a table 
with a coffeepot and right 
before you went out back there 
was a water cooler.  It was simple. 
Just before opening the back door 
I would get a cup of Ice Cold water 
and when I went through the door 
I would let the monkey have it. It 
only took the monkey a day or two, 
at the most, to realize that when 
he saw me he was going to get a 
bath. After a few days of this, the 
monkey wouldn't let me get within 
eyesight of  him. I went to Lt. 
Schexnader and told him that I 
loved the Monkey but that the 
monkey wouldn't let me near him. 
I recall Lt Schexnader's  words 
exactly, he said, "Hughes you're 
not getting out of it that easily." 
I suggested that we go outback so 
that he could see for himself that 
I was telling the truth. When we 
went outback I let Lt. Schexnader 
go first. This way I would be 
coming through the door by
myself. When I opened the door 
and the monkey saw me he went "ape" 
(excuse the pun). Lt. Schexnader 
couldn't figure it out. He said 
something to the effect that the 
monkey was so friendly, calm etc. 
I suggested that perhaps it was my 
after shave or something………

I don't remember who Schexnader 
strapped with the Monkey assignment, 
I think it was Clarence. But I'm not 
sure.

About 3-4 days after I was relived 
of my monkey duties, Bloomquist told 
me to grab my gear because there 
was a maintenance flight (Kelly said 
that all flights would go up with a 
full crew, even maintenance flights). 
I went out to the flight line to 
prep the ship and in a short 
while Lt. Schexnader and the 
other pilot pulled up in the 
jeep. I was surprised to see 
that we had an additional passenger. 
On Schexnader's shoulder there was 
the monkey. He had a collar and a 
short leash. Lt. Schexnader cranked 
up the ship and we took off. 
He was taking the ship through 
its paces and everything was 
checking out all right. Then 
he suddenly took the ship from 
about 500 feet to about 6,000 feet 
and leveled off. We were flying 
that course for a few minutes and 
everything was fine. All of a sudden 
we hit an air pocket! We dropped 
down to about 1,000 feet in a matter 
of a few microseconds. (In twenty 
months of flying I never got used 
to air pockets. Every time it 
happened I thought that my stomach 
was going to come out of my mouth) 
When I regained my composure I 
turned around to look at the pilots. 
Actually I turned around because I 
heard a lot of commotion up front. 
It sounded like a lot of cussing 
to me. When I saw what had happened 
I damned near died. What I saw was 
the monkey hanging from the roof 
of the ship, Not only was he 
screaming, he was emptying his bowels 
and throwing up all over Schexnader. 
I swear, they must have heard me 
laughing all the way back at Ton 
Son Nhut.

Needless to say the flight was 
cut short. When we landed 
back at the pad, Schexnader 
bolted out of the ship and 
immediately got in my face. 
He said, "Hughes you think 
that that was funny????" I 
couldn't resist it. My reply 
was, "Well no sir, but I do think 
that it was poetic justice." 
Of course he didn't see the 
humor of it at all. As he went 
storming back to the jeep he 
shouted out, " Hughes, clean 
the f-----g ship!!!!" To be 
truthful I didn't mind cleaning 
the ship, as a matter of fact I 
laughed the entire time while 
removing monkey feces, vomit etc.

Next day we reported to the 
flight line and as I walked 
through the back door I noticed 
that the monkey was gone. 
I never had the nerve to ask 
Lt. Schexnader what happened 
to him. I'd like to think that 
he set him free.

I loved that monkey.

Jay McGowan

I just spent a couple
of days in DC tilting at windmills
....helping to get the FAA updated.
On the train down I came up with the
following out of the blue.

Gentlemen idle your engines for a
minute as Jay is about to
pontificate.
Pat and I went to marriage encounter
(great experience) a few (15) years
back. One of the things we learned
was that feelings "just are" and we
should accept them and use them to
better our lives without analizing
them too much. Also to "cut to the
chase" and forget about the BS. So
the "thought out of the blue".
I spent very little time with you
guys; a year,or less, out of my 61.
But you are all such a very big part
of my life. We are very diverse. we
probably wouldn't be friends without
our "experiences" together. I'm
enjoying all of our messages, etc.
amd look forward to hearing from
you.
I love you all and we are all crazy.
My thoughts are frequently with
Enrnie and his grandson since
hearing
the news. If wishing could make it
so he would be fine now. Also with
Bob and his dad. 
I enjoyed the heck out of San
Antonio and look forward to more.
Anyone want to comment on this
sentimental bit?

Jay

Alex Ortolano

Since my time in Vietnam was shorter
than most, I do not feel as though I
know u guys as well as most of u
know each other. I was just
beginning to 
feel swashbuckling (about to
purchase a red scarf & a swagger
stick) & I was 
called home to stock the shelves in
my Father's grocery store. I do feel
that 
the Vietnam experience was one of my
life's high points. A big part of
that 
experience was the people I knew &
was getting to know, when I was
returned 
home due to the impending death of
my Father. I have always thought
that the 
Army had a real big heart to allow
me to go back home when there was
the 
personal need to do so. I have
really enjoyed our email
communications, which 
started for us this past December. I
hope that they will go on as long as
we 
go on.
Alex O.

Thomas "T2" Thomas

I have often said, sober I might add, that I would never do it again for a million dollars, but I would never trade the experience for a million dollars either. I have often also said that the greatest heroes of that war were the medics and crew chiefs of Dustoff, who never receiced the medals or recognition they deserved. I can still see the tracers kicking at their heels as they left the " safety" of the bird and ran out to get them because everyone else was pinned down. I can still hear Chambers voice on the inter-com as he was out the skids talking me down, after I had told him not to do it I might add; if he hadn't done it we never would have got in I might add. It also points out how afraid the enlisted men were of me. I flew guns one day with are sister unit at the villa, I forget their name, but after complaining at the bar that I was tired of being shot at and never shooting back I was given that opportunity, I am sure we broke every rule plus violated the Geneva Convention, but at any rate after it was over I realized I could never really have my heart in this stuff; that flying Dustoff was the nobelest thing I had ever done in my life. I probably have 20,000 hrs of flying or so today and none of it compares with the year I flew Dustoff.

T2

Walt Harris

Jay, I have been wanting to respond to your e-mail and on what we have together; a bond that many of the outside world would not understand except us. I did put a one liner on one reply that simply said, "Jay, I love you too, after all you were my roommate". All Kidding aside (and...I love to kid), I agree with you more than ever! I look for E's from Dustoffers first before I check my other mail, not that others are not important especially family. The point is we are family. I, like you, am a sentimental slob and even at 61 (almost 62) "feel" as if we never left each other. Some of us were closer to each other than others which is to be expected. None of our experiences were ever exactly alike but in a way all the same. I have tried to visualize an instance when I could not entrust my life to everyone in Dustoff, even those who pissed me off and who I am sure got pissed off with me, and I can't think of one I wouldn't trust when it comes down to the "crunch". Think of the medics and crewchiefs who had to trust us even in our stupidity. I can't tell you how many times we have hit the start button of those ships without even looking at the rotor blade or worrying that everything and everyone was tied down, etc. even to "C's" in the back storage compartment. I knew and trusted in my heart that all was well with "us". Over the years, I have thought about all of you guys, enlisted and officers and have kept you close to my heart.........wondering if everyone else felt the same. Most of all, when I hear the national anthem played, I am proud to be a part of one of the most rewarding things I have ever done in my life, which includes the ministry that God has given to this unworthy but lucky person. I have been thinking about those who didn't make it back lately especially Paul. I think out of all of the people we left over there, he for me is the one that we all rode with and depended on. I wonder what he would be saying at this time together. I know Si and Ernie and Bob and others feel that way about Charles Kelly because they rode with him and he with them. Everyone has a special person that we look up to who nurtured and seasoned each of us. My first flight was with Paul and my last flight (in 57th) was with Paul. Bill Hughes was with me on my last flight with Paul and it was pretty hairy! I have a feeling that Jeff feels that way about Paul too. I guess the most important thing that I feel today as I write this is the respect that I have for all of you! Yes, we are all different (thank God!) but most of all we all a part of not history but of each other. I was noticing that Dustoff has a great big "us' in the middle of it. I can't wait to see each other again and continue to build what we already have together and continue to build through this wonderful medium. Thanks for being there.

Walt

William "Bill" Hughes

Walt Speaking of trust. I remember one night they came into our compound and announced that all Dust Off personnel were to report to the flight line. We did as ordered. Turned out that an armed plane had dropped one of its 500 LB bombs over at Bien Hoa. It was the only time that I flew in civilian clothes. Needless to say all of the enlisted personnel were stone sober. When my pilots arrived they too were in civvies. One was a young Lt. named Harris. I believe the other one was Lt. Shaw (or was it Lt. McGoo) The conversation went something like this. " You fly this damn thing I'm too drunk!" "NO! You fly it, I've had more to drink than you!" "I'm not flying this damn thing!" Mean while I'm in the back wondering what the hell the telegram home is going to say. When we arrived the flight line was just about gone and we weren't permitted to go in and pull out the wounded because just about all of the planes had been armed for the next day and more than a few had time delay fuses on their bombs. I believe the final clean up came about three days later. In the meantime every hour or so a bomb or two would explode. Guess it was 25 cent night at the officers club? But, once again, you guys got me there and back home safely. Just like you always did. Thank you, Bill Talk about trust!!!! Remember that one Walter???? I would say that we had a mutual respect. But if I knew then, what I know now about you guys........... Bill

That reminds me: I sound just like
my grandmother, whenever I heard
that I
knew I was in for some long long
story. I said I will never get like
that.
Well here I am 40 years later, that
reminds me. Speaking of flying under
the weather, I was brand new in
country and the Ranch Hands threw a
big
party for Dust Off, I think
Bloomquist had gone in and got one
out and they
wanted to show their appreciation, I
aws a little ashamed because I
hadn't
hardly flown a mission yet and all
these Air Force guys where telling
me
how great I was at their club. At
any rate it got pretty wild and the
next
thing I know was that APs where
there blowing their whistles and
telling
everyone to get out, then someone
threw a full can of beer at their
Jeep
and broke the windshield, it was
deninitely time to go. When we got
back to
the Villa it was ominous because the
backup crew was not there and
someone
was trying to figure out who was
sober enough to go if another  crew
was
needed, well the red phone rang and
everyone was needed because the VC
had
motored Bien Hoa[SP]. I really
believe now that VC waited until all
of Dust
Off got a little under the weather
and then just to have some fun they
would motor the place just to watch
us scamble half in the bag, they got
a
big kick out of it. It's good to
know that they had a sense of humor.
We all jumped into Jeeps and roared
off to the flight line, one of the
Jeeps had a siren, I think, and this
was the big opportunity to use it.
When we got to the line all of the
enlisted crew were already there
waiting
for us, we must have looked like the
Key Stone Cops; someone almost ran
into a tailboom. Anyways I was with
Dean and had never flown a night
mission yet, next thing I hear Dean
say is start it up you are flying. I
am
trying to remember what they had
taught me at Rucker so as not to
torch the
thing and I hear  Bloomquist ,I
think, say better go in single file.
Good
idea because a formation would have
been a disaster. We got to Bien Hoa,
now the trick was to try and land,
then I heard that there weren't that
many casualties and they had all
been picked up,whew that was close.
That was the first and last time I
ever flew drunk, if the FAA is
listening
I deny the whole thing. Does anyone
remember this or did I just dream
the
whole thing up?
T2

Jim Truscott

T2,

No, you didn't dream it up.  I was
in that flight as well although I
was on duty and returning from Bien
Hoa with the first load when you
guys were heading that way.  Some of
the aircraft had no lights on, some
weren't even looking like they knew
where Bien Hoa was, and there was
clearly no organization.  Saigon
Tower was no help whatsoever and
there was also a number of the 120th
and the UTT guys heading about also,
not to mention the heavy inbounds
for landing to the west at Tan Son
Nhut.

How DID we ever live through those
things?

I, too, only flew once with any
alcohol on board.  Mike Trader and I
were sitting at the 334th bar with
Norm Turner, and F100 driver you may
remember, and had been for some
time, when flight operations called
to say that 1st and 2nd up were both
out on long missions to, I think,
Phan Thiet and Song Be and ops had
received an urgent mission request
from the Rung Sat Special Zone.
Mike and I bravely drove, with Norm,
out to Tan Son Nhut, found the only
other crewmember we could get out of
the 57th, and took off with Norm, an
Air Force Captain, in the rear as a
4th crew member.  The aircraft had
no litters or racks nor any
soundproofing as it had just come
out of maintenance.  The weather was
shitty and the ground fire lit up
the night while we were still many
miles distant.  All three of us
sobered up relatively instantly,
managed to get the aircraft down in
one piece, threw about 15 wounded
ARVNs on board and beat feet.  I can
clearly recall sweating cold bullets
all of the way back.

DUSTOFF!!!

Jim