Background
of this Brotherhood
NOTE:
I sent this e-mail message to an address list of 66 names before the TLC
Brotherhood had a net set up with a net address.
We were trying to decide on a name for this new group that had been
growing for about 6 months. With new
people on-board, I sent this note talking about the background that had gotten
us to 66 TLC veterans sharing stories about our service in Southeast Asia.
Over the years, we have had a number of reminder messages that talked
about the organization’s heritage. JHB
Hi
everyone,
I think
you're on the right track for a name. Thinking
about the roots of this group-both those that go back to this summer, and those
that go back about 30 summers-I was leaning toward something that would combine
Brotherhood and Thailand. I
appreciate John's sentiments in trying to get my name involved, but that isn't
necessary. I understand what this is
all about, and I know there will always be that "Jimmie Butler Fan
Club," whether it stays just the original 4 or 5 or grows to include a
couple more.
For those
of you who are just finding us-or just being found-I'll give some background
below
Jimmie
H. Butler
When you
write a novel, you hope people will be entertained by spending some time with
your characters and your words. Sometimes
you go for more, hoping people will be moved by the things you need to say.
That was a goal of A Certain Brotherhood.
I wanted to tell a story on behalf of some guys who didn't come back.
(A couple of major scenes were inspired by the shootdown of Captain
Lucius Heiskell, who was flying his O-1 in MuGia Pass on 6 February 1967, the
day before I arrived at NKP. Last
week I received an e-mail from
In the
mid-1980s, I read an article in Esquire by a guy who had fled to Canada during
the war and nearly 20 years later was having second thoughts.
The premise of his article was that the Vietnam War had been the major
event of his generation-and he had missed out on being part of it.
By then, he had seen enough vets of the war in SEA to recognize that they
had something he had missed being included in, and he was sorry he wasn't
sharing in it. To me, the brotherhood was what he had missed.
I had felt it for years. In
the beginning, I felt it so strongly when someone got shot down and the focus of
every other American around went to saving the one in danger.
Those of you who have read ACB will recognize that was what I was trying
to capture in the following scene that came fairly early in the book.
* * *
* * * * * * * * *
"Nail, Cricket, we've got Laredo coming to you. You're cleared to use them at your discretion. We'll divert additional ordnance shortly."
The words sent a shiver through Mitch. A fullness in his throat told him
tears of pride would come if he let them. He always felt the same emotions
whenever the radios told of a pilot being down-and of scores of other Americans
rushing to risk their lives to save the one in danger. The feeling of mutual
loyalties was mystical. A special camaraderie united him with fliers he'd never
met-but he knew they'd try to save him, and he'd try to save them. It was a
certain brotherhood that draft evaders who fled to Canada would never
experience. Mitch wasn't sure he could adequately describe the feeling, even to
Elizabeth.
* * *
* * * * * * * * *
This
stretched through from the fliers whose business was air rescue-Sandies,
Jollies, PJs, men such as Roger's brother Jim Herrick who scrambled at the sound
of the klaxon to try to bring downed fliers home-to anyone who, by chance, was
in a position to help. That was what
I reflected in the following scene of a Sandy returning to NKP.
* * *
* * * * * * * * *
The
C-130 came abeam the runway as the burning A-1 passed the last section of
jungle. Less than half a mile from the runway's south end, the Skyraider dipped
a wing. Mitch shook his head, certain the crippled plane would overshoot.
However, the A-1's nose swung around quickly as the pilot applied the big
rudder. In seconds, the fighter cleared the trees, raced across the threshold,
and landed within the first five-hundred feet of the runway. The second A-1 flew
parallel about fifty feet above the ground.
"Superb,"
Mitch whispered.
The
crippled Skyraider careened along the runway, and a fire truck slowly
accelerated in pursuit. When the A-1 neared the mid-field taxiway, Mitch saw the
left wing rise. The right wing dropped and spewed a fountain of sparks into the
smoky trail. He stared wide-eyed and pressed his forehead against the window
frame.
The
A-1 slowed abruptly and swung into a ground loop.
Mitch's
mind flashed to the vivid view he'd seen from his cockpit during the ground loop
at Khe Sanh. His grip on the door frame tightened, causing his recently healed
arm to quiver.
Metal
cartwheeled into the air. He thought the A-1 was coming apart, then realized the
rectangular pieces were planks gouged from the runway. The A-1 spun into the
dirt, disappearing into a huge red cloud.
Fire
trucks converged from three directions. Scores of fatigue-clad men ran across
the parking ramp toward the burning A-1.
The
brotherhood was alive and well.
* * *
* * * * * * * *
Some of
you may have been out front in responding to such an incident.
Even if you never did, I'm sure you would have if the opportunity had
presented itself. Gerry Frazier sent
me a story of a 3-day rescue effort that went on while he was an intel officer
at NKP. This is how he ended his
summary, which illustrates what this brotherhood is all about:
"I
sensed that there might be reason for real hope for this SAR, and Boxer 22
Alpha. As I went about my business
for two or three days, airmen and officers asked about and updated each other on
the status of that SAR, in the mess hall, at the BX, with the APs at the front
gate, in the CBPO and Finance office - everybody knew, and everybody was as
totally involved as their individual position allowed them to be.
We ALL fought for that SAR."
* * *
* * * * * * * * *
"I
had a very bittersweet moment at about 0300 this morn when I finished A Certain
Brotherhood. What a knockout! You took me on a ride I never expected.
You reintroduced me to every FAC I ever knew and brought out all of the
individual traits that made them unique. You flooded me with feelings I had long
since forgotten and some that I had only hidden. You validated what I have tried
to convince those who would follow, that combat requires a constant and ever
changing risk/results measurement, and smart combat is knowing what results are
worth the added risks. But most of all you relit the fires of brotherhood.
"Over
the years I wondered what it was that gave me so much satisfaction about
"the year". I had assumed it was the fact that I had proven to myself
that I could stand up to combat, but you have allowed me to take another peek
and find the million other reasons. Thanks, Jimmie."
* * *
* * * * * * * * *
"The
Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., is an imposing black granite wall
bearing the names of thousands of men and women who died in the Vietnam War or
are still missing in action. The wall would bear an even greater weight but for
the Cricket FACs, pilots who flew tiny, unarmed Cessnas over enemy territory to
monitor the movement of North Vietnamese troops as they advanced along the Ho
Chi Minh Trail into South Vietnam."
-
Jane McBee
* * *
* * * * * * * * *
The basic
conclusion is that if we all hadn't gone to Thailand, or wherever, the Wall
would have had to have been bigger. That's
a part of the brotherhood we all share-and can be proud of for the rest of our
lives.
Happy
Thanksgiving!