The Days Forward

West Point Class of 1969

Suzanne Rice

Nick’s FARRP #7 – First Cavalry Division – 1978

The “Tales from Nick’s FARRP” series are a fictionalized version of real events and are dedicated to the memory of friends and classmates from the Class of 1969.

“So, Rod, what’s that horse thingy on your shoulder?”

*          *        *        *        *        *      *

I was speaking to an Army guy sitting on a stool in the bar that I had recently inherited from my late Uncle Nick.  Nick’s FARRP is the name my uncle gave the bar he bought after he had to leave the Army. They retired him because of cancers he got from several combat tours in Vietnam, where he was a helicopter pilot.  Knowing nothing about the Army, I am always asking the Army guys who come in here questions, which they patiently explain to me.  “Rod” was Chief Warrant Officer Rod Jordan, who had been best buddies with my Uncle Nick, along with the late husband of Miss Peggy, my bar manager and guardian angel.

*        *        *        *        *

“Well, New Guy,” Chief Rod began. My name is really Gil Edwards, but by now I knew that “New Guy” was his affectionate name for me. “That is the shoulder patch of the Army’s First Cavalry Division. It is the largest unit patch in the Army, and its bright yellow shield shape makes it the most recognizable patch as well. The black slash represents the cav saber, and the horse silhouette speaks for itself. The guys who wear it proudly call it the ‘horse blanket.’”

First Cavalry Shoulder Patch

“So, what’s so great about the First Cavalry Division?” I asked.

“Okay, New Guy,” replied Chief Rod. “Are you ready for a history lesson?”

When I nodded, he continued. “Back in 1964, before Vietnam really started heating up, the Army created an experimental division, the first major combat unit with their own helicopters, hundreds of them. They called it the ‘airmobile division,’ and it was intended to begin a new era of Army combat mobility. In 1965 it was re-designated as the First Cavalry Division, a historic unit from World War II and Korea, and deployed as the first Army division sent to Vietnam.

“Your Uncle Nick, Miss Peggy’s late husband Mike and I deployed as aviators with the 1st Cav to Vietnam aboard ships in 1965. The three of us had already served a tour in Vietnam, flying H-21 helicopters supporting the Army of the Republic of Vietnam, what we called ‘ARVNs,’ right after we had graduated from flight school in 1962.  We were young in ‘65, full of piss and vinegar, but at the age of 22 we were considered old combat veterans by the majority of the thousand or so aviators in the Cav who had never seen a shot fired in anger.

“Not only was our 1st Cav the first Army division deployed to Vietnam, but when Miss Peggy’s husband Mike was shot down and killed in June of 1972 on his third combat flying tour his Cav aerial rocket artillery unit, the ‘Blue Max,’ was the last Army division unit still in combat. The 1st Cav served as bookends for all the other major Army combat units throughout the Vietnam War, although some American advisors and aviation units were still in combat into 1973.”

“I can attest to that,” responded the tall guy sitting next to Chief Rod that I knew as Major Tony Williams.  “To give the other guys in my assault helicopter company a break for the holidays, I volunteered to fly the only missions for those days. On Thanksgiving and Christmas days of 1972, plus New Year’s Day in ’73, I was the Aircraft Commander for the only helicopter flying on those holidays in the entire II Corps region.  And on Christmas day an American advisor to a Vietnamese Army battalion played us holiday music over our FM radio while we flew. I logged 8.5 hours of direct combat support time on January 1, the last mission I flew in country before coming back.”

“Wow,” I replied.  “I always heard the war was over by that time.”

“That’s what the American public thought,” spoke up Chief Rod, “because all the news organizations had packed up and gone home long before then.”

“Yeah,” replied Major Tony. “Nobody realized that there were more Korean troops in Vietnam by that time than there were Americans.”

“So why was an Army division called cavalry when they didn’t have horses?” I asked these guys.

Captain Kenny Wayne, sitting on the other side of Chief Rod from Major Tony, spoke up. “Back in the earlier years of this century, after Pancho Villa’s bandits began raiding our states along the Mexican border, the Army combined four of its cavalry regiments into a division to patrol and secure our border. They called it the First Cavalry Division.  My daddy served in the 1st Cav at Fort Bliss, Texas, in the 1930s, when the Division had 12,000 men, 10,000 horses and 20,000 mules. He told me stories as a child about West Pointers he had known, in the Cav and later in World War II.  One who impressed him particularly was a brand-new second lieutenant just assigned to the Cav in 1936, a short stocky kid named Creighton Abrams.”

Major Tony interrupted, setting down his beer.  “Gil, for your civilian edification, the late General Creighton Abrams succeeded General Westmoreland as top commander in Vietnam, then served as the Army Chief of Staff.”

LTC Creighton Abrams in 1949 with a model tank

“Yeah,” resumed Captain Kenny, “my dad later served under Colonel Abrams in Combat Command B during the Battle of the Bulge. My dad’s stories are partly why I decided to go to West Point.”

“Resuming the history lesson, New Guy,” continued Chief Rod. “During World War II the Cav turned in their horses for jeeps and served as infantry in the Pacific.  In retaking hundreds of islands in the Philippines during 1944 and 1945, the 1st Cavalry Division made more amphibious landings and put more men ashore than the entire United States Marine Corps in every theater of every war in our nation’s history.

“MacArthur loved the Cav and called them his ‘First Team.’  They were his first troops in Manila, first in Tokyo and first in Korea. Sadly, when they were occupation troops in Japan, they were severely under-manned, under-equipped, under-trained and poorly led.  They got deployed directly into combat in Korea, where they did not perform well, and got over-run, losing their colors in disgrace.

“The new 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile) saw their deployment to Vietnam in 1965 as the opportunity to regain their lost colors and restore their honor. Their baptism of fire at the Ia Drang Valley in November 1965, was the first major battle between US Army troops and the North Vietnamese Army in the war. Battalions of the 1st Cavalry Division, including 7th Cav, 5th Cav, 8th Cav, 12th Cav, 1-9th Air Cav and 8th Engineers and their supporting aviation units, took horrific losses in the Ia Drang. But, by golly, they won back the Cav’s colors with distinction. Thirty Cav troopers from the Vietnam War were awarded the Medal of Honor, known reverently as ‘The Medal.’”

Congressional Medal of Honor

“And those 1st Cav guys were sure proud of that ‘horse blanket, ‘” said Major Tony. “Everywhere you went in Vietnam you could see the Cav patch painted on any flat surface that wasn’t alive.  They went crazy, painting their patch everywhere they ever went in country.”

Captain Kenny spoke up. “After the Vietnam War drew down, the 1st Cavalry Division was relocated to Fort Hood in Central Texas, where it became the experimental test bed for every crazy idea the Army had. When I served there after my Engineer Advanced Course, the Cav was called the TRICAP (“triple capability”) Division. The first brigade was armored, with two tank battalions and one mechanized battalion. The second brigade was the Air Cav Combat Brigade (ACCB), with an Air Cav Squadron, an Assault Helicopter battalion, and an Attack Helicopter Battalion. The third brigade was an airmobile infantry brigade, with three light infantry battalions. The division also had operational control over Alpha Company, 75th Infantry [Merrill’s Marauders, the Ranger Long Range Recon patrollers], and some supporting military intelligence units.

“In those days, the Division was a kaleidoscope of colors, with each unit authorized to wear their own distinctive headgear. The ACCB guys strutted around with their black Stetson hats and spurs when they weren’t flying.  The armor guys in first brigade wore black berets. The infantry guys in Third brigade wore light blue berets, except for the 2-7th Cav guys, who wore camouflage patrol caps with two reflective stripes on the back. The field artillery units wore red berets, and the Division Support units wore Kelly green berets. Although lighter in hue than the Special Forces green berets, they still pissed off the flash-qualified guys who thought non-SF personnel should never wear a beret that is any sort of green.

The 8th Engineer Battalion, my unit known as ‘Skybeavers,’ wore red baseball caps, and the signal battalion wore orange baseball caps. Division staff wore yellow baseball caps and the Rangers wore black. Sure was colorful.

Skybeavers’ Shoulder Patch

“And the Army was trying all sorts of crazy ideas. We had a dune buggy platoon, and scouts mounted on 250cc dirt bikes, air-delivered on special racks mounted on the skids of Hueys.

Army Dune Buggy                                                           Army Dirt Bike

We were experimenting with ground-surveillance radars and unattended ground sensors, small seismic detectors to report foot or vehicle traffic.

“There was a self-propelled 155mm howitzer battalion to support the armored brigade, and air-transportable 105mm howitzers to support the third “Grey Wolf” brigade. Our engineer battalion had two armored engineer companies and two airmobile engineer companies for direct support of the brigades. It was a really exciting time to be in the Cav.

“A few years later the division converted again into a conventional armor division. But all the battalions retained their designation as units of the 5th, 7th, 8th and 12th cavalry, the historic horse regiments that formed up the division back in the 1920s. Exception was the 1-9th Cav, the Army’s original Air Cavalry squadron, which retained their designation as ‘Buffalo Soldiers.’”

“And Tony, you mentioned how they painted the Cav patch everywhere they ever went,” continued Captain Kenny. “While I was in the 1st Cav at Fort Hood, they even painted a 30-foot-tall Cav patch on the town water tank next to my house in Copperas Cove, Texas.  You could see it for miles, all the way to Lampassas County. They sure are proud of their horse blanket.

“There’s a reason for that,” Kenny added with a grin.  “Serving in the Cav, I learned that the official logistics deployment package for the division includes 20,000 gallons of yellow paint and 5,000 gallons of black!”

Gallons of Cav paint

                               

In memory of Bill and Terry and Eddie and Jerry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Long Road from Tipperary – 2018

In 2018 my granddaughters’ school organized a Commemorative tour of WWI and WWII battlefield sites to honor the 100th anniversary of the WWI Armistice.  Historians note that WWII was really a continuation of WWI following a pause to gather up a new generation for the continuing slaughter that is now to be driven by even fiercer and more evil demons.

Heroic Young WWI Soldiers in Belgium

Our route through the Belgian countryside leading to the northern town of Ypres displays to the viewers spring green fields, red brick farmhouses and barns on obviously prosperous farms and, seemingly out of place, clusters of mottled beige tombstones.

These carefully tended cemeteries are grouped ten graves here, fifty there, a hundred just there in the copse (“did you see it?”), and thousands on the ridge.  These markers of a now century old struggle signal to the viewer, if they listen carefully, a suffering and loss not in the realm of thought or experience of today’s citizens of the West.

Here in these cemeteries rest the fallen of the British Empire, Tommies, who like their French Poilus comrades, their German enemy and later the American Doughboys endured a battlefield seemingly, conjured in Dante’s Hell.  The town of Ypres and its environs, our destination, became the final resting place of over a quarter million British lads.  In the four years of war this city featured the most desperate of struggles with the town itself ground to dust and powder.

Ypres, Belgium after WWI
Ypres as Dick Saw It

In a slow stroll through these cemeteries, these ‘stiller towns’ as AE Houseman noted, what shocks the Stroller most are the ages carved into the tombstones.  Interred are men mostly in their late teens or early twenties.

American Soldiers interred at Flanders Field
Only WWI American Cemetery in Belgium

A few have epitaphs from family, themselves long gone, and others reflect an Unknown soldier, grieved assuredly by someone left behind who never knew the fate of their loved one.  Almost a million British souls endured this pathos.  And the Stroller asks reasonably-why?

History answers:  The British dead at Tyne Cot lit a Signal Flame to guide future generations to a New World.

Debates continue today on the cause and fault of the Great War.  Whatever may be your conclusion, this soldier concludes from this hundred-year distance that the citizens of these combatant countries were poorly served by incompetent generals, and callously indifferent political leaders.  The monarchs of the Triple Alliance and Entente were feeble in mind and body, ill-suited in capabilities or vision to lead their great nations.

Leaders of the Triple Alliance and Triple Entente

The societies created by their rule were unequal in the dispersion of wealth and privilege and hid many fault lines ready for rupture.  To heal these societal ills would require a convulsion, as those who held power were not about to give up their wealth or position.  The Great War, stoked by their own incompetence, unintentionally provided the necessary and inevitable societal collapse needed to create the freer and prosperous Europe of today.

This convulsion, rather than create a new and better Europe, instead unleashed new demons.  Destroying these demons steered the Tipperary road through Omaha Beach to where it ended at the fall of the Berlin Wall and Soviet empire in 1989.

The American dead at Aisne-Marne and Colleville sur Mer carried the Signal Flame from the British dead at Tyne Cot then passed to Cold War era Americans, dead and living.   The Cold War generation brought the conflict to a close at the Berlin Wall in 1989, ironically in November seventy years after the Treaty of Versailles.

I suspect that the throngs of Europeans clogging the streets of Paris, Bruges, Ghent, Venice, and Florence during spring breaks don’t link their freedom and prosperity to the Tommies interred at Tyne Cot and the Americans buried at Flanders Field.  But one town does remember- Ypres, Belgium. Every night at 8 PM for now over 31,000 nights the city honors the fallen of the British Empire who gave their lives in that struggle in and around their city.   The ceremony known as The Last Post is held at the Menin Gate, an Arc de Triumph style monument overlooking the city’s main square.

Menin Gate, Ypres, Belgium

Most recently, the Australians hosted the ceremony to honor their heroes with the laying of wreaths. At the closing of the ceremony that evening, a drum and fife band marched off to the strains of “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary.”  Indeed it was a long, long blood stained road, but at the end of the march, an Angel sings: “Hallelujah, Hallelujah, a new world is here”.

A POW Story – 1973

I was the Aeroscout Platoon leader flying OH-6A scout helicopters for F Troop, 9th Cavalry, from 7 Sep 72 until the Vietnam cease fire announcement by President Nixon on 23 Jan 73.  While still learning the ropes from the veteran scout pilots, I was flying as co-pilot in the left seat with the pilot CW2 Tim Knight on 26 Sep 72.

Co-pilot Doug – 1972

We were on a mission in the eastern part of our area of operations when the Troop Commander gave a radio call for all of us to head west to Lai Khe for refueling and then fly to the Michelin rubber plantation to rescue a Marine A-4 pilot who ejected from his aircraft after it was hit by anti-aircraft fire.

Rubber Plantation Similar to Where the Marine A-4 Pilot Ejected

An Air Force Forward Air Controller (FAC) saw the pilot parachute into the rubber trees and had a good idea of his location.  Our plan was to fly to that location at tree top level in a V formation lead by the scout with two AH-1G Cobras slightly behind and on the scout’s left and right.  Above us at 1500 feet was the Troop Commander (our Command & Control) in a UH-1H Huey and a Medevac Huey.

The OH-6A had no doors so I searched to the front and left, the pilot front and right plus flying the aircraft, and our enlisted man gunner on the floor in the back right side looking right and to the rear.  I had a CAR-15 with three 30 round magazines taped together for easy loading.  Our first pass over the area was incredible – there were NVA soldiers in blue uniforms looking and shooting at us, trucks, picnic tables, and 55-gallon drums all over the place.  We could hear the A-4 pilot’s survival radio’s beeper, but he did not answer our calls for him to come up on voice. We did not return fire because of concerns about our A-4 pilot on the ground somewhere nearby.  Our next pass from a different direction was even more difficult because the enemy gunfire was now intense, and the Cobras were now getting hit.  We realized we needed to protect ourselves. The gunner in the back of the aircraft fired at the enemy with his M-60 machine gun and I fired all 90 rounds from my CAR-15.  We still could only hear the beeper from the survival radio, but no voice and we could not locate him visually.  Before initiating our next pass, the Troop Commander ordered us to come up to altitude and informed us that we needed to return to our home station.  A Jolly Green USAF rescue helicopter was coming on station and would continue the search.  All of us felt terrible because we failed in our mission.  The Troop Commander, among the bravest of all, had to make a hard decision.  Both Cobras had multiple bullet holes – things were starting to go completely downhill.

After the 23 Jan 73 cease fire announcement (the cease fire went into effect on 27 Jan 73), I was assigned to Saigon to the Four Party Joint Military Commission (JMC) flying UH-1Hs.  Our mission was to fly US, ARVN, NVA, and Vietcong (VC) leaders to negotiate prisoner releases (usually VC releases).  I experienced VC releases out of C-130s and lead one out of CH-47s.  But the best was yet to come!  On 15 Feb 73 our aviation group received the mission to fly to Loc Ninh the next morning and bring back 29 American POWs to Saigon!

However, out of the woodwork the morning of 16 Feb 73 appeared many senior officer aviators who took the mission instead.  Since we had no mission, my co-pilot, 1LT Ray Dabney, (a great pilot even though he was a Texas A&M Aggie) and I went to the Tan Son Nuht Officer’s Club and started drinking beer.  Around 1500, our boss burst into the bar and told us that the POW release had still not happened.  Looking at us and our beers, he sheepishly asked ‘can you guys fly’?  Of course, we answered ‘YES’!

We flew a US LTC and Sergeant interpreter, two senior VC officers, and an NVA liaison with the ‘real paperwork,’ so we were told, to Loc Ninh.  Upon landing at Loc Ninh, my co-pilot, Ray, and I had to stay on the helicopter.  Our passengers got out and met with their counterparts.  I gave my camera to an Indonesian photographer (a member of the other post-cease fire organization – the UN International Commission for Control and Supervision (ICCS)) so he could take some pictures of the POWs for me. Within minutes, out came the US POWs in trucks from the woods nearby.  I saw them get out of the trucks, greet the senior US officers, and walk by me, including a POW on a stretcher, to the helicopters that would fly them to Saigon.

Some of the released POW’s courtesy of Doug’s Indonesian photographer

At the club that night, one of my old Scout platoon pilots grabbed me and said we needed to meet a Marine COL, who was the wing commander of the A-4 pilot shot down in Sep 72.  We sat with him at the bar and re-lived our failed rescue mission.  He told us that he had good news – his A-4 pilot was in the group of 29 POWs just released!  He must have been able to see him.  The lists of to be released POWs were provided to the senior Four Party JMC officials prior to all POW releases in Vietnam.  If I recall correctly, the COL told us (or someone else did later) that his pilot crashed through the rubber trees with his parachute and broke his leg.  He hunched himself up, sat with his back against a tree, pulled out his .38 caliber pistol, and shot two NVA before they overpowered him and clubbed him unconscious.  His leg was badly damaged, and he did not get much medical support in captivity.

That POW on the stretcher was the young man that we tried to rescue in Sep 72.  Learning this brought tears of both joy and thanks to my eyes.  Hooray!

Hooray! Doug’s Special POW is Free.

After being contacted about my POW story, I decided to do some ‘Google research’ about the Vietnam cease fire agreement, the Four Party JMC, and the ICCS.  The research was fascinating, especially the New York Times 25 Jan 73 article entitled ‘The Vietnam Agreement and Protocols’.  I had never seen any of this information before.  The article contained the 24 Jan 73 White House release of the texts of the Vietnam cease fire agreement initialed by Henry Kissinger and Le Duc Tho and the four accompanying protocols detailing the means of carrying it out.

Le Duc Tho and Henry Kissinger 1973

It sure would have been helpful to have seen this information when it was released in 1973 instead of seeing it for the first time in 2020! The other exciting document was a book written by LTC Walter S. Dillard, USA, the chief historian for the US delegation to the Four Party JMC under the command of MG Gilbert Woodward, USA.

LTC Dillard’s book, ’60 Days to Peace’, contained an interesting section describing the subject of my POW story.

LTC Dillard’s Book

I learned from the book why there was such a long delay (at least seven hours) in the US POW release, which is what lead to my involvement.  The author stated that there were differences of opinion or misunderstandings within the Vietcong and South Vietnam delegation leaders.  The US POW release per the cease fire agreement was to be an independent action.  The Vietcong believed that the US POW release at Loc Ninh was contingent upon their own VC POW release by the South Vietnamese at Bien Hoa.  From there, the VC POW return was set to occur at Loch Ninh on the same day as the US POW release.  So, at Loc Ninh the morning of 16 Feb 73, the VC refused to release the Americans until their own POWs were returned.  The Vietcong blamed the South Vietnam leaders for delaying the VC POW release at Bien Hoa.  However, it actually was delayed because the Vietcong POWs staged a sit-down strike.  They did not believe that there were actual VC or NVA members in the Four Party JMC. This confusion led to messy and frustrating negotiations among all parties of the JMC to reach a final resolution.  The US prevailed mostly because of the leadership of MG Woodward who took a tough stand with the Vietcong senior leaders, finally leading to an agreement.  This long delay is what led to Ray and me getting the mission to fly the five liaisons from the Four Party JMC to Loc Ninh with the actual agreement to release the US POWs.  Pretty amazing to learn the real story 53 years after the fact!

A Tribute to Army Docs – 1995

by Eric Robyn

“You have the right knee of a 60-year-old man!”

The year was 1995 and I was 48 years old.

The Army doctor conducting my retirement physical was surprised when I replied: “Thank God, that is great news … my knee has gotten younger in the last 18 years!”  I then told her sincerely how much I appreciated Army doctors over 26-plus years of active duty service.  And I meant every word!

When I was a cadet in 1967, Dr. (then-Major) John Feagin (USMA Class of 1955) operated on my right knee, injured during intramurals. **

**Note:  Intramurals (or company athletics) was heavily emphasized by Douglas MacArthur’s arrival as West Point Superintendent in 1919, in order to provide competitive athletic experiences for every cadet in a wide variety of sports.  The most gifted cadet athletes competed on Corps Squad (intercollegiate) teams, but the rest of us were assigned to a new sports team every quarter with our company-mates.  “Every cadet an athlete” is more than just a cliché!

That day in January as I lay flat on my back under local anesthesia, he cheerfully explained the new procedure being used.  He was drilling numerous small holes on the back side of my kneecap to encourage cartilage growth.  His continuous “step-by-step” description was informative and obviously meant to distract me from the nerve-wracking sound of the electric drill at work.  Success was in his results.  He got me up and running (literally) in relatively short order.

Whirlpool Treatment for Cadets
Cadet Patients Endure Physical Therapy – Aka: Physical Torture

When I graduated in 1969, I left West Point fully qualified medically for Airborne, Ranger and all the other physically demanding activities required of young officers, including combat duty in Vietnam, and more than 2 years of battery-level command of troops.

In 1976 I returned to West Point as a Tactical Officer and re-injured the same knee playing squash.  Once again, I went under the knife, this time by the hand of Dr. (Major) Gordon Kimball.  During surgery on that cold January day in 1977, I heard a familiar voice from 10 years earlier.  Colonel Feagin, then the USMA Hospital Commander, took time to stop by and check up on me and my knee.  Ever the caring physician, he told me he wanted to see how his work had held up after 10 years of ground-pounding abuse!

Although this second surgery was successful, my knee obviously was not up to what it once was able to do.  An Army medical board reviewed my case and placed a permanent “profile” in my file, exempting me from running and other activities stressful to my knee.  I was told at the age of 30 that I was walking on the knee of an 80-year old man!  In spite of this pronouncement, I remained on active duty for another 18 years.

Fast forward to 2004.  I had one more encounter with Dr. Feagin.  He had just been named the worthy recipient of the USMA Distinguished Graduate Award, so I decided to drop him a congratulatory note.  Considering the intervening years, I referred to having been one of his “old patients he had probably long forgotten.”  After all, how many knees had he seen over a career?  Amazingly, he wrote me back.   He not only remembered me but said he had recently been reviewing my case file!  Who would have guessed that old medical files provided reading material in retirement?  Or that mine held any residual interest?  But I appreciated his love for his profession and his thoughtfulness to reply to an old patient.

Now 25 years into the golden years of retirement, I am much older than my 60-year old knee.  It is my left knee that now causes more pain!  I guess at age 73 the arthritis is to be expected.  Could be worse!  To borrow (with a twist) the response Plebes were taught to recite about their first squad leaders: “Everything my right knee is – or ever hopes to be – I owe to John Feagin!”

One final shout out to Army docs involves the ever-recurring story of cadets and their knee injuries.

Our son Paul (USMA Class of 1992) while a yearling (sophomore), was engaged in barracks horseplay, twisting his knee.  Fellow classmate and former fellow field artilleryman, Bruce Wheeler (https://thedaysforward.com/colonel-bruce-wheeler/) called very early one morning to my quarters at Ft. Sill where I was assigned as a battalion commander.  As all commanders know, early morning calls seldom bring good news.  Bruce, now the orthopedic surgeon assigned at Keller Army Hospital, anticipating my anxiety, greeted me, “Hey, Eric, don’t worry, Paul is OK!”  He then went on to explain the relevant details of this cadet mishap.  Paul was in good hands.  Thank you, Bruce, for following in the line of great docs who keep cadets and soldiers on their feet and running!

PS:  Although I was not a Corps-Squad athlete, I learned over the years that many West Point athletes and graduates knew and loved Dr. Feagin.  So, in memory of Colonel John Feagin, USA Retired (USMA 1955), here is an excerpt from his obituary of September 2019:

Dr. John Autry Feagin Jr. died peacefully at the age of 85 on September 1, 2019 at his home in Jackson Hole, WY, amid friends and family.  Born on May 9, 1934, he was the son of the late COL John A. Feagin, Sr. and Katherine Terrell Feagin.

Dr. Feagin was a 1955 graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point.  Following two years as an Army artillery officer, he was offered admission to the Duke University School of Medicine and was the first West Point graduate to attend medical school while on active duty.

… He served as an orthopedic surgeon in Vietnam 1966-67 with the 85th Evacuation Hospital in Qui Nhon … returned to West Point and served as an orthopedic surgeon at Keller Army Hospital and team physician for the Army athletic teams from 1967-72

Orthopedic Doctor at Keller Army Hospital

… He retired from the Army as a Colonel in 1979 after a final assignment at West Point as the Commander of Keller Army Hospital

Keller Army Hospital in Which Dr. Feagin Worked

… practiced orthopedic surgery in Jackson, WY from 1979 to 1989.  During this time he also served as team physician for U.S. Olympic teams and the U.S. Ski Team … he returned to Duke in 1989 as Associate Professor of Surgery and team physician for Duke Athletics, where he reunited with Head Men’s Basketball Coach Mike Krzyzewski, who had been a basketball player at West Point when Dr. Feagin was team physician.

In 2009, the Feagin Leadership Program was established at Duke University to honor and build on Dr. Feagin’s legacy of leadership in medicine, … mentoring the Feagin Scholars throughout the last ten years of his life.

Dr. Feagin was … president of the American Orthopedic Society for Sports Medicine (AOSSM) … His contributions were recognized through numerous awards including the United States Military Academy’s Distinguished Graduate Award, and induction in to the Army Sports Hall of Fame and the AOSSM Hall of Fame.

Dr. Feagin humbly influenced an entire generation of orthopedic surgeons worldwide in ways that transformed the understanding and treatment of knee injuries. He was a founding member of both the Anterior Cruciate Ligament Study Group and the International Knee Documentation Committee. His book, The Crucial Ligaments, remains the standard text on ligamentous injuries of the knee.  He was an exemplar of patient-centered, selfless leadership and his legacy lives on through the thousands of people he influenced for the better throughout his life.

He always tried to live the West Point Cadet Prayer: “Encourage us in our endeavor to live above the common level of life.  Make us to choose the harder right instead of the easier wrong. … And grant us new ties of friendship and new opportunities of service.”

In the words of the West Point Alma Mater, “May it be said, ‘Well done; Be thou at peace.’”

**Photos courtesy of the Jack Engemann Collection at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County

The Story of Teams “22” and “24” – 1970

While at Camp Buckner being trained in Infantry tactics by the 101st Airborne Division, I only wish I had paid more attention to a particular white board presentation by then Major Dandridge Michael “Mad Dog” Malone (now deceased).  He described in detail his concept of creating long range reconnaissance elements to be used in Vietnam as the eyes and ears of a Division when their Areas of Operation (AO) were too large to be controlled by Division assets.  Later that same year he convinced a Two Star General, the First Field Force (IFFV) Commander in Vietnam, of the efficacy of his concept.  MAJ (P) Malone was tasked to create E Company, Infantry (LRP), which years later would be re-designated, C Company (Ranger), 75th Infantry (Airborne), the unit in which I would later serve.

Major Dandridge (Mad Dog) Malone

Each Company in the 101st ABN DIV was tasked to provide soldiers and officers for the newly created unit.  Naturally, they sent their dregs and deadbeats.  So, Mad Dog Malone went back to the IFFV Commander and was given free rein to select soldiers for his LRP Company, each of whom he required be a volunteer.  Thus, began the tradition that everyone who joined the unit had to be an Airborne volunteer.  Malone kept the officers so as not to malign their records but returned all the soldiers and then hand-picked his LRPs.  Due to the size of the Company, its Commander would be a Major.  Since Malone was promotable to LTC, he would not realize his dream of becoming its first Commander.  That job fell to a Special Forces Major named O’Connor, who did agree for Malone to lead the very first team combat mission.

When enough men to create a Platoon were picked, the Platoon was sent as a unit to Recondo School run by Special Forces in Nha Trang.  Upon graduation from Recondo, each Platoon was dispatched to various outposts throughout First Field Force.  Since a helicopter had to be constantly re-fueled to reach his separate Platoons, MAJ O’Connor requested any suitable aircraft from the IFFV CDR.  The Command Sergeant Major indicated they had two O-1 Cessna Birddogs that could be suitable for Direct Support to the LRP unit.

Gary with O1 pilot

Once the unit was constituted together and performing team recon missions, the Birddog became the essential Command & Control (C&C) vehicle.  Keeping meticulous records of my combat flights, I would eventually earn ten air medals in the Birddog flying C&C

After USMA graduation and completion at Mother Benning of Airborne, Ranger and the Basic Infantry Officer courses, I reported to Ft. Bragg, NC for my first duty assignment.  I was a 2nd LT Platoon Leader, Company C, 1st of the 508th, 82nd All American Airborne Division.  Shortly afterwards, I was selected by the Brigade Commander to create, train and lead its first ever Brigade Long Range Recon Patrol Platoon, with a primary mission of operating a mock Viet Cong prison camp and serve as aggressors during the Brigade’s Escape and Evasion training exercises.

I was also given free rein to select soldiers from the Brigade to fill my LRRP Platoon.  Upon reviewing the military records, I was thrilled to pick one particular Sergeant who had served with a Ranger/LRP unit in Viet Nam!  Little did I realize then that I would later serve with that same unit from which he had just returned.  Yes, it’s a small world when all the puzzle pieces finally are put together!

The Brigade Commander gave me ten objectives to meet.  I requested and he consented that I be given orders to Vietnam once I met those objectives.  I was “called on the carpet” one time.  I had decided to train my LRPs the art of the Australian Rappel; i.e., rappelling with one hand while facing downward and the other hand free to fire at any enemy below.  Since there were no available mountain sides on which to train, I located a distant three-story barracks that had no side windows.  Unfortunately, the barracks belonged to another Brigade Commander (BDE CDR), who drove by and witnessed us rappelling from the roof down the side of his building and reported me.  After getting chewed out for a good three or four minutes with my ass completely figuratively bloody, I turned to retreat.  The BDE CDR stopped me saying I was not dismissed, came around, stuck his finger in my face and, with a smirk said” Next time, don’t get caught!”  I believe in the saying, “It’s better to ask forgiveness than to ask for permission.”

Having met all objectives, I received orders to Vietnam following completion of Jungle Warfare Training Course in Panama.  I arrived in Vietnam on 18 July 1970 and reported to Bien Hoa for the 10-day In Country Indoctrination Center operated by the 25th Inf Div. On Friday, my third day there, I received orders to the 173rd (The Herd) ABN Brigade.  The following evening at Bien Hoa Officers Club, I met a MAJ Hudson who was in jungle fatigues and bragging about commanding Charlie Rangers.  He stated he had a good commo PLT LDR, a VMI grad for one of his combat Platoons and a Citadel grad for another but would be losing his 2nd PLT LDR due to his promotion to Captain.  When he heard me exclaim I was an Airborne, Ranger, West Point grad and volunteering, he said if I could get to Ahn Khe in three days, he would cover transferring me into his unit.  If it had not been for the war, I wouldn’t have even known about Vietnam, and I had no idea where Ahn Khe was.  However, I immediately returned to the barracks and let my bunkmates know I was leaving.  They warned me I would be AWOL!  I responded, “What could they do to me?  I’m already in Vietnam!  Besides, it would be an embarrassment to the Army to report a West Pointer AWOL in Vietnam, so I would have time to arrange a new assignment.”  I hitch-hiked on a C-123, a Huey and on a deuce-and-a-half truck in a convoy that drove through a VC ambush at the Ahn Khe pass.

Ahn Khe Pass

My introduction to combat was twiddling my thumbs with no weapon and bullets flying over my head!  Well, MAJ Hudson kept his word, and I became 2nd PLT LDR, Charlie Rangers.

Ranger Gary in Vietnam

If the North Vietnamese Army could secret 3,000 troops across the borders of Laos and Cambodia and surround say a US artillery base, they would be willing to sacrifice 2,000 soldiers to kill two hundred Americans as a PR victory, based on the protests going on in the USA.  However, GEN Giap, the head of the North Vietnamese, ordered his troops not to become decisively engaged with the US Forces because they had air superiority and fire superiority since they operated in battalion and division size operations.  He hated the Rangers since six men would cause a year’s planning to go awry as the enemy thought they were the advance element of a large US force and would retreat back over the borders when ambushed.

Charlie Rangers employed six-man LRP teams to conduct ambushes (hatchets) in free-fire AOs after clandestine insertions by helicopter.  Usually the teams were within firing support of artillery camps, which were eager to assist any teams in contact.  A reaction force of a Platoon of Americans, a company of Republic of Korean (ROK) or an even larger unit of South Vietnamese forces stationed at nearby airbases replaced teams that made contact with superior enemy forces.  Frequently, the only team communication was through a radio-relay site positioned on the highest mountain or via the airborne Birddog. Due to the constant stress, teams not making contact were extracted after four uneventful days in the field.  After a few days respite, teams were re-inserted into a new AO.

A Charlie Ranger team made contact nearly every day of the year!  We did not create these incredibly brave men; we only trained them.  Charlie Rangers called in more B-52 strikes than any other unit in the history of the war.

On this particular mission, I was flying Command & Control to extract two 2nd Platoon teams that had been operating without any contact for their four days.  As they were operating only a few kilometers away from each other, and there were no nearby landing zones (LZ) suitable for extraction, I directed both teams to a central, large LZ.  At the time, our unit was under operational control to the 173rd ABN BDE, so we were being supported by “Casper” helicopters. ** Note the ghost on the nose of the flaring Huey.  Teams “22” and “24” reached the appointed LZ and relaxed as they awaited extraction. ** Note in the picture below taken by a Ranger, their rucksacks are strewn about the LZ, and they’re not waiting under cover of the forest according to standard operating procedures.

**Photo taken by a Ranger at the Landing Zone

The teams popped “banana” yellow smoke as the first of two Casper Huey is descending for final approach with the second Huey above and out of the picture.  The Radio/Telephone Operator is speaking with me in the back seat of the Birddog. His teammates are all reacting to my message of approaching enemy.  My front-seat pilot, Ranger Jerry Bussell (now deceased) of the 183rd Reconnaissance Aircraft Company, spotted approximately sixty North Vietnamese enemy soldiers “di-di-mauing” (speeding) towards the yellow smoke.

Both teams were quickly and safely extracted by two Casper Huey, leaving no chance of friendly fire damage, whereupon two accompanying Casper gunships unleashed against the enemy.  Once their full armament was expended, two artillery camps joined in the fray!  Just another day in the life of a Charlie Ranger.