By Anonymous 129th AHC Member

Life seems to be getting still and quieter in the waning hours of this here and now, and I’m “Thinking and Wondering” of so many things we did back in those other times. Thinking of the guys that gave their lives.

Wondering what the world would be like if they were here now. Thinking it would probably be a lot different if they could have had their say. Thinking of the brothers that are still here and those that have passed on since that time we served together.

I’m wondering how I can possibly forget names and faces of some of the most important people of my life. Wondering how any of us survived some of the things we did. Thinking of the times I was so scared that I couldn’t even pee, but still went out to accomplish the mission. Thinking how important it was to act like I wasn’t scared, and wondering if anyone else was as scared as I was, but also wouldn’t show it.

Wondering if we had that “Macho” attitude because we wanted to, or because we needed it in order to do the things we did. I’m thinking that we weren’t very macho when we sat in the Chapel during the memorial services for our fallen brothers.

Wondering why their spare pair of boots were the items chosen to be put on display. Thinking that I can’t remember what the Chaplain said about our brothers, but I do remember those boots.

Wondering, with amazement, that GOD gave me the crew member brothers that I had, and how important all of you were (supply, maintenance, gunners, cooks, pilots, crew chiefs, guards, grunts, sergeants, officers, and all the others) and how we took care of each other.

I’m wondering if the smell of JP4 and the sound of rotor blades will be with me forever. I’m wondering why it worked out that it wasn’t my boots being displayed in the Chapel. I’m thinking that we went over there to support S. Vietnam and ended up primarily supporting and taking care of each other.

I’m wondering if it was Lt. Calley, unrestricted news reporting, or the bleeding hearts that wouldn’t believe the viet cong would use kids to carry hand grenades, that caused us to be called baby killers and war mongers.

I’m wondering what McNamarra, Fonda, and those guys that went to Canada think of themselves for what they did.

I’m wondering if I’m stirring up “bad” memories for some of my brothers, or if it may help them, as it seems to help me by bringing some of the feelings out into the open so we can deal with them.

I’m thinking that some of my brothers don’t seem to have second thoughts or emotions about what happened or how we were treated then, after, and even now.

I’m wondering why does it matter to me what my brothers think. Suddenly I’m thinking that one of the most important things in my life is what my brothers think.

I’m wondering if you are as proud of yourself as you should be. I’m thinking that I want you to know how proud I am of all of you.

I’m wondering if you’re proud of what we did over there. I’m wondering if you ever think about those other times and that we all would have died for each other (as some did).

I’m wondering what more could we do?

I am thinking how blessed and thankful I am that I have known you.

Damn, you’re a bunch of good men and I miss you!