4:55 | Both his parents encouraged him to serve, so Paul Curs chose VMI for higher learning and a route into flight school. Like everyone, he wanted to fly fighters but chose to fly as a forward air controller in Vietnam as a stepping stone to the fast jets.
Keywords : Paul Curs Miami FL Virginia Military Institute (VMI) flight school Randolph Air Force Base Air Force Academy Northrop T-38 Talon Cessna O-2 Skymaster Forward Air Controller (FAC) Vietnam pilot
It was an emotional scene as Paul Curs said goodbye to his family and boarded the airliner for Vietnam. Before he could get to his assignment as a forward air controller in Vietnam, he had to undergo survival training in the Philippines. He found a successful way to elude the tribesmen who were paid to search for him.
The base at Pleiku was so high up in the mountains that the Cessna O-2 had performance issues. Forward air controller Paul Curs flew that aircraft in support of missions on and around the Ho Chi Minh trail. The first time he flew over Laos, there were so many bomb craters he thought it looked like the surface of the moon.
Forward air controller Paul Curs usually flew with someone else in the other seat. He had a captain who was nearing his rotation date on a couple of missions and the guys decided to give him a little surprise as a sendoff.
The Viet Cong would fire some small rockets into the air base every now and then, just for harassment. Paul Curs recalls the startling scene of airmen watching the barrage in a very nonchalant manner. Once he found a dud sticking up out of the ground.
Paul Curs didn't realize the extent of the Ho Chi Minh Trail until he began flying missions over it. He was a forward air controller, or FAC, and his little Cessna had no real armament, yet he flew right into the anti-aircraft fire to coordinate attacks. The goal was to interdict men, weapons and supplies coming down the trail.
Some commanders flew combat missions along with everybody else and some didn't. You can guess which ones got the respect of the pilots. Paul Curs was a FAC pilot flying out of Pleiku and he recalls when the tactics officer tried out a new tactic. It didn't go over too well.
Halfway through his tour, FAC pilot Paul Curs began flying missions for MACV SOG, the Studies and Observations Group. It sounded innocuous but what they did was insert Green Beret teams into the jungle to cause havoc with the enemy. They were the bravest warriors he had ever seen.
FAC pilot Paul Curs was flying in support of a Green Beret mission. The weather was bad and he couldn't always see the ground. Just about when it was time for him to return to base and another pilot to take over the mission, he got a frantic call from a team member on the ground. His actions over the next half hour would bring him the Silver Star. Part 1 of 2.
The Green Beret was alone and under fire in a bomb crater with FAC pilot Paul Curs circling overhead in his little Cessna. He couldn't call for fighter support because of heavy cloud cover but he had the Willy Peter white phosphorus rockets he used to mark targets. And he was a deadeye shot with them. Part 2 of 2.
FAC pilot Paul Curs usually worked with Air Force fighters but one day he was working with some Navy A-7s. He wouldn't clear any pilot to go ahead and attack unless the pilot could see him. That way there would be no mid-air collision. He received that assurance so he gave the go ahead. It was nearly the last thing he ever did.
He thought he had been promised an assignment to fly fighters after a tour as a forward air controller, but Paul Curs found out that it was less than a promise. As he boarded a flight in Spokane to head home, a belligerent passenger wanted to fight. A returning Green Beret nearly gave him what he wanted.
No one would talk to him about it. Pilots from earlier wars wouldn't give him the time of day. It was a stigma that Vietnam veteran Paul Curs could not shake. He was one of the guys who "lost" the war and, on top of that, he was having bad dreams.
Paul Curs has been to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial three times. Each one has been an emotional experience, including the time he pointed to a panel at random and got a chilling surprise.
Shortly after arriving in Vietnam, FAC pilot Paul Curs came to a sobering realization about the war. It became his goal to make sure as many of his comrades as possible went home safely. The absurdity of the war was made clear when he reported that he sighted a tank. There are no tanks there, came the reply.
For Vietnam veteran Paul Curs, his experiences and stories are shared in the memory of his VMI classmate John William Kennedy, who did not make it back from that war.
Don Rohde decided to re-enlist. The Navy Corpsman really had his eyes opened in Vietnam and civilian life just wasn't working out for him. He and his pregnant wife headed for Camp Lejeune, where no one knew it yet, but there was something wrong with the water. (Caution: strong language)
One night, while Laurie was eating dinner, the USS Sanctuary got a call about a plane crash. She vividly remembers the patients coming aboard, and the aftermath of this incident, including one boy who was MIA. As difficult as this experience was, it was nothing compared to the Tet Offensive. New wounded were coming in constantly, and trying to care for all of them at once was emotionally exhausting. (Interview conducted at, and with the assistance of, the Military Heritage Museum- https://freedomisntfree.org/.)
After the column was devastated by an NVA ambush, wounded Americans were scattered in the darkness. After his captain heard one such group calling for help on the radio, Freddie Owens joined a patrol to find them, guided by a gunshot every few minutes. Once there, medic Daniel Torres volunteered to stay with those who couldn't move and protected them through the night with medicine and a machine gun.
The RPG that severed Joe McDonald’s foot didn’t kill him. The machine gun fire that hit him as he still tried to help others didn’t kill him. The grenade taped to his hand might have killed him if the VC had found his hiding place.
In a letter home, Tommy Clack expressed his worry that something bad was going to happen and it did when his unit engaged the NVA near the Cambodian border. He saw the enemy soldier stand and fire the RPG that changed his life forever.
They were hunkered down after fierce fighting when the call came from "Ghost 4-6." It was a group of wounded men who had pulled themselves together after the ill fated march to LZ Albany and were lost in the dark. George Forrest sent a patrol to find them, and in an incredible act of bravery, medic Daniel Torres stayed through the night with them and saved many men. Captain Forrest still had to write a gut-wrenching letter to the mother of a missing soldier. Part 3 of 4.
As Marine Captain Ron Christmas fought to regain the city of Hue, he found the enemy adept at concealment and surprise. Every soldier in a spider hole was armed with a rifle and a RPG launcher. His action during this time earned him the Navy Cross.
It turns out you can see a lot at night. Fighter pilot Joe Richardson was apprehensive about night missions over Vietnam but the tracers and the missiles were unmistakable. He had to learn how to out maneuver the surface-to-air missiles, which wasn't easy but it was doable.
When it gets close to time to go home, for some reason, the danger increases. Some died during their last few days, but Vic Grahn made it back from Vietnam and didn't even get the rude greeting so many did when they returned. He became a flight instructor and nursed a bitterness towards the powers that be who abandoned the war when we had it won.
Fighter pilot Joe Richardson was laying chaff for a B-52 run over North Vietnam when the SAM's started to fly. That was bad but the worst was yet to come. As his squadron turned and headed for home, the bombers were headed the opposite direction. A head on collision would be disastrous. (Caution: strong language)
What should future generations remember about the war in Vietnam? For Vic Grahn, it's all about those who fought the war being abandoned by their own leadership and the general public. What song takes him back? The answer is surprising though totally logical.
The three companions were flying down to Webb Air Force Base to check it out. Joe Richardson was piloting the Beechcraft and while they were all going to be at flight school there, this was just a little pleasure trip. It nearly ended in disaster.
A-37 pilot Vic Grahn and his buddy Jack Beam were working a target with napalm when a bullet came through his windsceen and exited the cockpit through a side window. There was no other damage to his plane so he returned to the attack. Then Jack's plane took a hit as well but he, too, pressed on. You would think that the brass would like that but they didn't.
Joe Richardson was three years into the Air Force Academy when he decided to quit. He didn't care that he would be exposed to the draft. When he brought recruiters into the Explorer group he was mentoring, he was so impressed with the film the Air Force recruiter showed, he joined up.
It was strange. Vietnam was a bit of a culture shock for Vic Grahn but he got over it. He was flying the A-37, a small jet aircraft designed for close air support to troops in contact (TIC). His base at Bien Hoa was the target of frequent rocket attacks which may or may not have disturbed the poker game.
He was a military man from day one. Vic Grahn's father had served in World War II aboard the USS Hornet and, when he came of age, he decided on the Air Force. A new war beckoned from Southeast Asia and he didn't want to miss out. With a commission out of ROTC in hand, he began his pilot training.
Just as he was finishing flight school, Joe Richardson contracted Valley Fever, a respiratory illness connected to fungus in the soil in that part of Texas. It set him back because it took a while for the doctors to figure out what he had. He recovered and continued in his training as a fighter pilot. Finally, he was headed to Southeast Asia.
When Joe Richardson's squadron was working with some Navy pilots over the A Shau Valley, one of them made a mistake which caused some of their bombs to detonate prematurely. Two of his fellow pilots had to bail out. One of them was located fairly quickly but the fate of the other was unknown for a while.
His father had been wounded on Tulagi, so he never got to be the Marine aviator he intended to be, but he did teach his son to fly. Joe Richardson soloed at fifteen and went on to become a fighter pilot.
The Corpsman in Vietnam really saw the most difficult parts of war. Don Rohde will never forget the first Marine who died in his arms nor will he forget the first life he took, considering who she was and what she was doing. The Marines weren't arbitrary in their actions but if they took fire from a village, that village would burn.
There were no real anti-aircraft guns per se down in IV Corps. Vic Grahn took a lot of small arms fire and the occasional 20mm on his missions, which were often in support of troops in contact (TIC). He flew the A-37, a small highly maneuverable aircraft and that maneuverability came in handy when he was up in III Corps where the trees are bigger.
There was a Green Beret on the ground. He had just escaped from the North Vietnamese and fighter pilot Joe Richardson was tasked with laying down a smokescreen to aid in his escape. Years later, he ran into a man who's story seemed to line up with his. Was this the guy?
Don Rohde went into one tunnel, just to say he did it. They were everywhere and the VC would just disappear into them. He was a Corpsman attached to a Marine company and he took no gruff from a doctor who didn't appreciate his field emergency work.
He had a suitcase in each hand when an anti-war protestor called him a baby killer and spit in his face. By the time Joe Richardson collected himself, the man had run off. Welcome home. He tried to stay in the Air Force but the downsizing eventually caught up with him and he went to work for the industry that had built the aircraft he flew. (Caution: strong language)
It took a long time, but Don Rohde finally attended a reunion of his comrades from Vietnam. Men with common suffering at the hands of the powers that be who messed up that war. It was so bad that they don't teach about it very much in school. (Caution:strong language)
Before he got to Thailand, fighter pilot Joe Richardson went through survival school in the Philippines as well as a little extra-curricular activity. When he did get to the air base at Ubon, he ran into a buddy who was in a squadron known as the Night Owls. Oh, I don't want to fly at night. Too bad.