The next week Matt and Ellie set the tent up in the front yard again. A heavy rainstorm had caught them during the camping trip and the tent needed to be cleaned and dried for storage. Mr. Ed had been raking leaves and picking up sticks when he saw the kids were outside working. He had started a burn pile, once the fire was going and not in danger of spreading, he stepped through the light tree line and spoke. “Hey, guys! How was your camping trip?” Both kids started talking at the same time.
“It was great!”
“It was awful!”
Their words ran together as Mr. Ed held up his hands, motioning them to slow down. “One at a time, please. I want to hear all about it. Ellie, how about you go first.”
She beamed, enjoying that Mr. Ed had chosen her ahead of Matt. “We had a great time the first day. We went on a hike, saw an eagle’s nest, and cooked dinner over the campfire. Then, we had smores! They were yummy!”
Not being able to contain himself any longer, Matt interjected, “but it rained that night!”
“I was getting there. Let me tell the story!” Ellie said icily, “It rained a lot that night. We had water coming into the tent. Dad said the tarp we used as a rain fly was threadbare and needed to be replaced. The inside of the tent got so wet that we had to move to the van.”
Taking advantage of the break in Ellie’s story Matt interjected again. “I slept on the front seat. Mom and the baby slept in the back, and Ellie slept on one of the benches. All of our sleeping bags and clothes got soaked in the tent.”
“Wow! That sounds like some kind of experience. I think that same storm came through here. We had all kinds of limbs and leaves down in the yard – plus lots of rain. Hey! I have some news to share with you two. Do you know what’s happening this coming weekend?”
Ellie answered first, “Church? A birthday party?”
Mr. Ed shook his head, so Matt tried his luck, “A fishing trip?” another headshake.
“My whole group is going to the festival downtown. We are going to have six aircraft here – The Loach, a Delta Model Huey, a Mike Model Medevac Huey, a Charlie Model gunship, an OH-56 Kiowa, and a Cobra Gunship. I hope you guys can come down and check them out!”
“That sounds like fun! I’d love to see a Huey!” Matt exclaimed, before running inside to tell his parents and ask permission.
“We’ve got some marshmallows left over from this weekend. Can I bring them over in a little while and roast them on your fire, Mr. Ed? I’ll share them with you!” Ellie offered, hoping to get a sweet treat and visit a little.
“Sure, that sounds fun. Let’s wait till we burn up the leaves and just have limbs burning. That way is better for roasting.” Ellie smiled and bounced inside to get the left over marshmallows.
Matt walked into the edge of the woods and started hunting for the perfect stick. If it was too short he would burn his hands. If it was too long, it would be hard to keep the marshmallow in just the right place over the fire. If it was too thick, it would split the marshmallow, and if it was too thin, the stick would bend and flop into the fire. Of course, Matt just really needed one that would hold the marshmallow. He planned to set it on fire anyway, allowing the outside to turn a charred black before blowing out the fire. Then he would eat it with one bite. Ellie was more particular about roasting hers; she wanted to create a perfect light brown golden crust, melting the insides to gooeyness. The three enjoyed the marshmallows and spending time together.
“You know what a good campfire needs?” Mr. Ed asked, quickly answering himself, “A good story! Have you ever heard of Tunnel Rats?”
The kids paused for a moment, thinking about the term. Then Matt asked, “Is that like a wharf rat? We learned about those at the State Port during a field trip.”
Mr. Ed shook his head, “Nope, they’re not really animals. The Viet Cong were great at digging tunnels. They had miles of the things. They would camouflage the entrances and use them to move around our positions undetected. The area around Cu Chi was famous for its tunnels. Some of them were more than 90 feet deep. Usually the VC would put one tunnel about 10 feet down. It was used to move around. Sometimes they would put another tunnel 25 or 30 feet under the first. This second level was for sleeping and quiet daily activities. The biggest and deepest tunnels were another 30 or 40 feet down – so way down in the ground. The VC would use these deep tunnels for cooking and building bombs. They also used the deepest tunnels to house their control centers.
“The Tunnel Rats were special soldiers who were usually short, skinny, and brave. When troops found a tunnel, these Tunnel Rats would volunteer to go in to find the enemy. Can you imagine crawling into a tunnel in the middle of the jungle, not knowing what you are going to find? Snakes, spiders, collapse, mud, enemy troops – anything could be down there. These men would take off their packs, grab a pistol and flashlight, and crawl down into the tunnels. They wouldn’t be able to use grenades. They could bring the whole tunnel down with you in it. A rifle was too long. Some units had found old Thompson sub-machine guns. Those were neat to see. Many times the VC would run further into the tunnel complex to avoid a fight. Sometimes they would ambush the tunnel rat.
“One of the pilots coming this weekend just got back from a trip to Vietnam. They have a museum set up near Cu Chi that talks all about the tunnels and displays traps the VC used to set. They have lots of unexploded ordinance – you know, bombs, grenades, artillery shells, things like that. I am sure if you ask him, he can tell you more about it.
“Most of our missions were not the giant battalion-sized operations like the one I told you about a while back. They were smaller. We would fly a platoon here, or a company there. Sometimes they would stay for a few days, sometimes a few hours. The length of the mission depended on what they found and how much searching they needed to do.
“Sometimes the Stingers would go out with a Loach and do a search and destroy, or hunter/killer mission. The Loach would fly low, following roads, ducking into fields. They tried to draw enemy fire. I know that sounds crazy, but it was a good way to find the enemy. They would either throw a smoke grenade or shoot back. A team of gunships usually waited just out of sight, around a hill, or higher up. When the Loach pilot called contact, the gunships would swoop in and start shooting up the whole area around the smoke grenade. Sometimes, we would fly a platoon, around 40 men, into the same area to search for the enemy on the ground.
“I have a good friend that was in the Stingers. We had actually gone to Advanced Flight at Ruckers together. He transferred into the 116th about two months after I did – after doing some extra gunship training stateside. He told me a great story at the air show we went to a while back. He’ll be here Friday night, if you get a chance you should come over. Bruiser loves an audience, so I’m sure he’d be happy to talk to you.”
Matt and Ellie were anxious to meet Bruiser. They had heard stories from Mr. Ed about flying slicks. Hearing a gunship pilot’s story sounded like it would be exciting! Their week dragged on. In a way, it was like waiting for a birthday party, or a visit from your favorite uncle. Friday afternoon finally came around, and they saw Mr. Ed hooking the Loach’s trailer up to his Jeep.
Matt ran next door, calling “Hey, Mr. Ed. I thought your friend Bruiser was coming today.” He recognized what needed to happen to hook the trailer up and started connecting the chains and brake light wires while waiting for a response.
“Oh that’s right, you were going to get him to tell you the story he told me. I am meeting the team in town so we can set up for the festival tomorrow. Tomorrow night everyone is coming back here for dinner. You come over before bedtime, and we will have a chance to talk then. Sound like a plan, Hooah?”
Finished with the trailer’s safety chains, Matt looked up, answering, “Yes, sir, see you tomorrow!”
Saturday morning, Matt and Ellie went out with their family. Their parents had a little business to attend to, and a yard sale or two to check out, but the main purpose of the trip was to go to the street festival. The family walked the streets in town. They watched a clown juggle. Everywhere they turned, vendors tried to sell their goods. They smelled the funnel cakes frying as they found their way through the crowd. Mother wanted to see a local artist’s latest work so they milled about her tent for a while. When they turned the corner by the big statue of a Shriner holding a child, Ellie shrieked, “There they are!”
She pointed down the waterfront. Sure enough, half a dozen dark green vintage helicopters sat neatly in line. “There’s the Loach” Matt pointed, “and a Huey, no three Hueys, and a little one that looks like a Huey. That must be the other scout, the -58. What is that long skinny one? I’ve never seen it before.”
Now it was Dad’s turn to answer a question. “That’s the AH-1 Cobra. You have seen one like it from a distance, flying over the Marine base in Jacksonville. That’s a gunship.”
“What’s a widow maker?” Ellie asked, reading the hand painted letters on the nose of the aircraft.
Holding his daughters shoulders, he answered soberly, “Baby, sometimes when men do evil things, we have to fight. When we fight, we want to bring overwhelming power to the fight and end it as quickly as possible. That usually means that we try to kill as many of the bad guys as we can. If they are married, their wives become widows. That helicopter’s job was to kill bad guys, so it makes widows. That is why it is called the widow maker.”
Matt and Ellie scanned the pilots looking for their neighbor, but they couldn’t find him. The pilots all looked alike, dressed in long dark green coveralls with matching white ball caps. Not wanting to miss the opportunity though, the kids crawled in and out of each helicopter. They checked out every seat and position in the aircraft. They needed help to climb in and out of the high-sided AH-1, but savored the touch and smell of the old aircraft. The Mike Model medical ship had a mannequin and stretcher mounted in the back. The Charlie Model gunship had authentic-looking toy machine guns mounted on the pylons.
As the kids approached the Loach, an older gentleman, wearing a green flight suit and an ‘I Served’ ball cap with a yellow, red and green ribbon asked if they would like to see inside. Matt answered flatly, “No thanks, I’ve been in that one before,” giving no further explanation.
Mom was with Matt for this exchange and scolded him, “That man was being polite. You need to apologize and explain what you meant.”
Matt hung his head and mumbled, “Yes, ma’am.” He walked over to the veteran and explained, “Sir, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be short with you. My next-door neighbor, Mr. Ed, keeps this helicopter. We have helped him and been in it plenty of times. All your other aircraft are cool though!”
The pilot reached down and handed Matt a sticker, “You don’t say. Ed has gone off to lunch. What is your name?”
“I am Matt. I live next door. . .guess you figured that part out already.”
“Thank you for coming out today. I will tell him you stopped by!”
“I’m sorry, sir. He loves that helicopter. He didn’t mean anything unkindly. All the new aircraft just have him excited.” Mom apologized.
“I get it. He reminds me of my grandson. Boys love big toys, and those,” motioning to the Cobra and Hueys, “are some of the biggest toys out here. Boys will be boys after all.”