I received the following email fromMike Austin on 21 Jul 1997. Special thanks to you, Mike, for allowing me to include your personal communications on my site. Hook

Gary & Byron (with special thanks to Grant Isom for the relay),

The radio chatter I just picked up on victor between you two completely blew me away. I flashed back to that morning crossing the steep ridges of the Song Bo river valley west of Hue flying a Cobra, when WO1 Martin's LOH was hit by AA and crashed near the blue line. The scout gunner, Richard Wiley, was killed. Martin escaped with burns to be picked up by a Jolly Green a few hours later.

Martin's was the only LOH lost that day by F/8, though WO1 Kelly's ship was shot up pretty bad trying to get in for a closer look at Martin's crash (I believe it was then shipped south for repairs -- maybe they decided to scrap it. That might be the second LOH you refer to as being lost on June 12). We finally had to call Kelly off so we wouldn't repeat the dual tragedies we suffered the day before when the Scout platoon leader, Cpt. Holm, and his second in command, 1LT McQuade, were killed in two crashes 20 minutes apart, along with 3 gunners. Tommy's survival was a highpoint, and the Air Force gets full credit for pulling him out alive.

Sandy pilots rate right up there with SAR, Medevac, FAC and Scouts in this old gunpilot's book, Byron. You guys definitely had a tough mission, covering all of SEA (not just South Nam) with your asses hanging out more than not I'm sure. I remember watching an A1-E land at Phu Bai in spring or summer '72, trailing heavy oil smoke from .51 hits on the engine. The hydraulics were shot up too. One of the mains was still stuck in the belly as he rolled in on final. He did a hell of a job balancing on one wheel on roll out. Then the wing dropped and hit the runway, almost ground-looping the warplane. Me and a few others lounging around on our day off ran out to help as he slid to an stop upright on the grass shoulder. By the time we got to him, the young pilot was standing on the wing unhurt, surveying the damage. Watching him pull that last postflight was pretty sad. His ship had delivered him home one last time before falling apart, damaged beyond repair.

It is also ironic your name is Byron. You are only the second one I've heard of. The first was a Huey pilot with F/8, 1LT Byron Kulland, callsign Blue Ghost 39. Byron was killed near Dong Ha, along with 2 crewmembers, when he attempted the first rescue of BAT 21 shortly after the EB-66 was hit by a SAM on April 2, 1972. The gunner Astorga was seriously wounded and taken POW, coming home in the exchange of '73. The rescue effort was recently published in the June '97 issue of Vietnam magazine by FAC pilot Darrel Whitcomb. I also wrote about it in an article titled "Closure" on the web.

As this reply is to both of you, I want to send a personal thanks to you too, Gary, for your tireless effort collecting and processing our chopper war experiences. What a noble mission. Hats off.

--Mike Austin
F/8 Cav '71-2
Blue Ghost 23

Additionally, the following excerpt from "Closure: A Vietnam Story" was provided by Mike Austin:

" That evening, we sat quietly at the edge of the Perfume River in Hue, sipping beer as we watched the sun set on the western mountains. Tru joined me in a toast to the six Blue Ghosts, all from the scout platoon, who were killed there June 11 and 12, 1972. I'd always considered scouts among the bravest men I ever knew, and these were the essence of that breed. They perished in three separate crashes, some while trying to save others, or just to retrieve the dead. That was all important back then, bringing home the dead. This time, we failed, though, and had to leave them all behind.

The memories stung like before as I mentally went through the list of names: Arnold "Dusty" Holm, Jim McQuade, James Hackett, Wayne Bibbs, Robin Yeakley, and Richard Wiley. I've often touched their names on the Wall in Washington, remembering each in turn.

I was flying about two hundred feet away alongside Wiley's chopper, piloted by Warrant Officer Tom Martin, when an anti-aircraft round slammed into the rear of their ship just below the exhaust pipe. I could see the flash of it, then Wiley leaning outside the door, returning fire with his M-60, as he simultaneously strained to see how much damage there was to his aircraft. Suddenly, the engine quit and they crashed into the tree tops, flipping over and catching on fire.

Setting up a "daisy chain" pattern with two other gunships to lay down continuous fire, I emptied every rocket, grenade, cannon shell and machine gun bullet my Cobra carried (which was considerable) at the large NVA force we had inadvertently overflown while crossing a ridge line near the Song Bo River. Some were running openly across a large meadow, trying to get to the tree line for cover. For every one that made it, two or three were struck down in the rain of steel and lead and high explosives. Just a hundred meters below them was Martin's burning ship.

Trying to buy more time for any survivors to escape, I started making dry runs on the ridge to keep the daisy chain unbroken until the other gunships were expended too. I hoped my diving Cobra would keep their heads down awhile longer, that they wouldn't figure out I was out of ammo and bluffing. It seemed to work. At least they weren't visibly moving or returning fire. We continued until low fuel forced us to return to Camp Eagle, but I never saw anyone climb out of the wreckage. Then as we turned to leave, the ship exploded. I was sick.

Imagine my joy later that day when I heard that at least one had made it out! Tom Martin was rescued by an Air Force SAR helicopter, again a Jolly Green, badly injured and burned, but very much alive. Miraculously, he had managed to escape his would be captors, moving a few klicks (kilometers) away from the crash before using his signal mirror to alert the Jolly Green's crew. He had been a grunt during his first tour and was probably saved by his jungle savvy.

Wiley had been pinned under the wreck, he told rescuers. Adrenalin pumping, he had tried to pry the Hughes OH-6 light observation helicopter (LOH) off his gunner with a tree branch, but the limb broke. As he turned around to find another branch, the ship exploded killing Wiley instantly. He said he wasn't able to contact us because his survival radio had melted in the fire before he regained conciousness after the crash knocked him out. He watched us fly away.

"We tried so damn hard to get you guys out, but you know how it was! The NVA simply overwhelmed us all in the invasion," I wanted to shout at their bones, defending the survivor guilt I still carried. All except Tommy were still lying out there somewhere, just like Three-Nine's crew up near the DMZ."