REUNION WELCOME

By Randy Millican-Reunion Co-Host

General and Mrs. Neel, Special guests, family and friends:

Welcome to the first, and hopefully, not the last, 159th DUSTOFF Reunion.

We have all traveled a great distance to be here today. We have come from California, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, Washington D. C., Montana, Kentucky, Colorado, and many other areas of our great Nation.

We have also traveled here from Vietnam. It has been a slow journey, as it took us 30 years, more or less. The journey has been a difficult one for many of us. A few have not yet fully returned, and still fight a war within. The price of the journey has affected us all, and to some, has been very costly, in terms of understanding and healing.

You may have had an opportunity to read a piece I wrote last year. I’m still not sure where it came from, but in it I tried to express my feelings about visiting The Wall, and coming to terms with my emotions and recollections. And my fears about confronting them.

I can tell you now that I finally made that journey last September. It was even more powerful and moving than I had expected. Those of you who have stood there know. As I located the names of our fallen comrades and tried to contemplate the tragic loss of lives, I could not make their sacrifice balance the necessity for it. I became angry. Standing there with tears streaming down my cheeks, I studied the enormity of the Wall itself, and the many, many names engraved upon it. I was given a thought-a thought which I will always know was from THE LORD-who firmly and lovingly told me "The Wall is not nearly as large as it would be if not for your efforts". Instantly I remembered and knew that the mission we had all voluntarily fulfilled was important, and the sacrifice unselfishly paid by John, Doug, and Bob was not in vain. I believe we honor their sacrifice by being here today and remembering them.

When I had collected myself somewhat, a Friends Of The Wall Volunteer politely approached me, respectfully introduced herself, and asked my name. She wanted to know something of my honored friends residing within the granite Wall. We talked for a few minutes, then she told me she had something for me. She gave me some literature, and presented me with a lapel pin depicting the Wall. Then she took me by the shoulders, looked directly into my tear-filled eyes, and said, "And this is from your Country—THANK YOU". I realized only then that for all these years I had secretly desired something in return for my service. I can tell you that because of the act of this special lady, I have marked any expectation I had as Paid In Full.

If we could be so honored as to have present with us today those gallant wounded men we carried to safety, I’m sure they would try to tell us what they felt as their tired, hurting eyes searched the skies toward the sound of the fast-approaching helicopter, and the relief and renewed hope that returned to them as they saw the big red cross on the bottom, and knew that it had come for them.

Someone once wrote:

I shall pass through this world but once.

Any good therefore that I can do, or any Kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now.

Let me not deter nor neglect it, for I shall never pass this way again.

I believe the authors’ expression mirrors the motto and mission of the 159th: "That Others Might Live".

As I have thought about you guys over the years, I have remembered many things about each of you individually, but my collective recollection is best described by two words; words you will use easily when describing each other, but become uncomfortable when they are applied to you. Those words are: Courage and Heroism.

Courage is not flying into a hostile LZ. That’s duty. Courage is sitting there with bullets thunking into the thin, complex, yet fragile structure of a helicopter while the wounded are being loaded—and staying on the ground until the last one is aboard.

Heroes are men who have just miraculously left that hot LZ in a shot-up helicopter, then change to a new ship and return to that same LZ-knowing that the enemy expects you to return—just as do the wounded men you returned for.

This scene was replayed so many times, it became commonplace, it was simply what we expected of each other and ourselves. We had inherited a tradition; we added to it, and we passed it on. It still lives today in those who have followed us; in both military and civilian medical flight operations around the world.

{General Neel-Your child has matured, and continues to fulfill the mission you envisioned. I know you are proud.}

Remember going to the PX on paydays? There were the dreaded hours-long lines for limited items to buy. The grunts would recognize our black Dustoff caps, and we would slowly be pushed toward the front of the line. This respect and honor was worth more to us than any ribbon the Army could ever award. The greatest trust which can be given to a mortal man is that trust which comes when others recognize that no matter how bad it gets, you will come for them and take them to safety.

In the movie "The Big Chill", a group of people meet for the occasion of a funeral. They were all great friends earlier in their lives, but haven’t seen each other in a long, long time. Over dinner they begin to recall their old friendships, and one character says to the others: "I was at my best when I was with you people". I believe that sentiment is understood and felt by us all.

The American poet Edwin Markham wrote:

There is a destiny that makes us brothers, None goes his way alone.

All that we send into the lives of others, Comes back into our own.

We were important to each other then, and I think we are now reminded we always will be. Destiny has indeed made us brothers. Our presence here today signifies that.

It is with great pleasure and pride that I have the privilege to say to you, my crewmates, my friends, and my brothers - Welcome Home, and, as the lady at the wall so accurately personalized for me: THANK YOU.

RM 05.27.99