It was in the early fall of 1969. Two high school sweethearts from a rural west Texas town had just graduated in 1968 and were married in August of that same year. It was a different time then, President Johnson was on his way out of the White House, and President Nixon was on his way in. Gasoline was priced at thirty-five cents per gallon and Neil Armstrong was the first man to ever land on the moon that year. But that wasn’t all that happened in 1969. With barely a year of marriage behind them and not having seen the age of twenty yet, the young bride said good-bye to her groom when he answered the call of enlistment into the U.S. Army after receiving his draft notice. On September 3rd, Bobby Fellers shipped out to Ft. Bliss in El Paso, Texas to complete his basic training and left his new wife, Marie, in the care of nearby family. Thus began the journey of my dad’s service to our great country.
For a quick de-briefing, the term private is used for the two lowest enlisted ranks, which are just below private first class in the United States Army. “Private E-1" is the lowest rank, also known as (PV1). When my dad went into basic, he was a private E-1 (3rd class) along with the other recruits there with him. When he was honorably discharged after his service, he had earned the rank of Spec 5, or SP5 which was an E-5 pay grade but also a rank that was later discontinued or phased out in 1985. What happened in-between the E-1 and the SP5 was quite an adventure.
During basic training, it was discovered that the Army was looking for someone who did not have any form of criminal background and who could pass an extensive background check. Out of approximately 15,000 recruits, my dad was one out of three people chosen for redline communications. After the background checks were completed, only two of the candidates remained eligible, one of which was my dad. In redline communications, there would have been a mandatory relocation to Washington, D.C. to be in close proximity of The President at all times. His duties would have consisted of being part of the crew that went ahead of The President during his travels to ensure that redline communications were setup and operational. This enabled The President to reach top military officials in order to receive or to send critical information and/or orders in the event of hostile action by another country or similar emergency event. In the end, my dad made a decision to turn down the position for several reasons, but that was the fun part of the story that explains how he received top-secret clearance levels before he ever left basic training.
Once he completed basic training dad became a private E-2 (2nd Class) and then went on to AIT (Advanced Infantry Training) in Ft. Rucker, Alabama. It was there that he completed his combat training and where he made the choice to train in basic aircraft maintenance. When he finished AIT he was a private E-3 (or PFC, Private 1st class), and got to spend a short time back at home before leaving for Vietnam. He said he didn’t really understand the level of background checks that happened until that time, because when he arrived back home and stopped in to say hello to Harry at the local hardware store, Harry told him how some men in suits had come into the store asking a lot of questions about him. After that, dad learned that the Secret Service had paid several visits to the locals when he was still in basic training. He told me he was glad he had always stayed out of trouble and under the radar because that level of scrutiny had really gotten his attention! (According to my mom, his worse vice was probably his lead foot on the accelerator pedal of his 1957 Chevrolet hardtop.)
My mom said that my dad shipped out to Vietnam on the first day of spring, March 20, 1970 and there was snow on the ground. She was so sad to see him leave and worried for his safety. Ironically, my dad would not be the only one that would soon face death unexpectedly.
In the meantime, Dad arrived in Vietnam and was assigned to the 1st Aviation Brigade, 145th Battalion and 334th Attack Helicopter Company, also known as the Assault Helicopter Company. This was a Special Missions Company which provided air support for anyone in trouble. They maintained 21 Cobra Choppers, of which 3 had to be on the pads and ready to go at all times. They also had one stationed at each firebase on the Laos and Cambodia border. In addition to the Cobras, they had 3 Hueys to keep operational as well.
He said things were pretty crazy from the time he stepped off of the plane because they had two guys who were on ETS (time served) and were about to go home and there was no one qualified or knowledgeable to work on the helicopters. They threw him on a maintenance crew for a week and decided to take it a big step further. After recognizing his enhanced mechanical abilities, he was questioned on whether or not he knew anything about turbine engines or had ever previously worked on helicopters. Of course he told them no. He grew up on a ranch out in the middle of nowhere! Then he was asked if he thought he could work on them anyway. His reply? “Do you have any manuals?” Well, that promptly earned him a cubicle and stacks of manuals that were probably higher that he was tall. Now mind you, he had just set himself up for an unofficial 3 day crash course education that was officially titled “Aircraft Turbine Engine Repairman” and was typically 6 weeks long and given by trained instructors. Unfortunately, they didn’t have 6 weeks or trained instructors. At the time he was first set up in the cubicle there were two choppers down. At the end of the 3 day crash course there were 4 choppers down out of the 21 and one highly agitated E-6 (Staff Sergeant) who had paid my dad a visit every few hours during those long 3 days, asking each time when could he get to work on the choppers. My dad’s repeated reply was, “Not until I know for certain that I’m not going do something that kills somebody.”
At the point in which time my dad had the confidence he needed to go to work on the choppers and at the staff sergeant's point of wanting to court martial my dad for the 3 day delay, off he went to complete his first job of replacing a linear actuator on one of the Cobras. From there, he moved from one chopper to the next, increasing the aircraft readiness ratio from what it had been at approximately 80% with 2 full time mechanics to right at 95% with just himself and an untrained helper. It was an accomplishment that had never before been seen. Within 3 months of being in country, his rank was elevated to a Spec 4 or SP4. In addition to “keeping the birds in the air” that were brought in to the hangars, he remembers going into Cambodia several times to retrieve helicopters that had gone down during his 11 months and 2 days on foreign soil.
Just over one month into being in Vietnam on April 30, 1970, dad was out on one of the 3 helipads standing up on an engine deck to the Huey about 7 feet off of the ground when they had incoming enemy fire that blew up the Huey next to him only about 40 feet away. Thankfully, the crew from the other Huey had just landed and cleared their chopper and dad was able to take cover. Ironally, on the same day and just hours apart, little did he know that back in the states my mom was fighting for her own life. Several days later, my dad finally received word that my mom had been critically injured in a horrific car accident when two drunk drivers ran a stop sign and broadsided her car in their small hometown. She had sustained severe head trauma and had over 50 stitches in her forehead. Her ribs had been crushed, her knee was injured, and her right foot was broken. I can’t even imagine how he felt, not being able to come home to be with her. They were each left to fight their battles alone. By the grace of God mom survived, and dad survived and continued to serve.
One of the stories that I have been told is one which happened after dad had been in Vietnam several months. Their company had been attached to the 7th Calvary Unit (Airborne) and were now also servicing about 10 Jet Rangers that basically were designed to carry only a pilot and co-pilot. According to dad, the Rangers were used for bait because they were low, fast, and maneuverable. As funny as it sounds, my dad was head over heels in love with the 78 pound, 750 shaft horse power Allison engine that the Jet Rangers boasted, and he did whatever he had to do to keep those in action. (I believe he might have been envisioning what one of those very engines could accomplish in his ’57 Chevy back home, truth be told.) Anyway, while the 7th Calvary Unit was in charge of this one particular 10 square mile patrol that was practically sitting on top of the base camp, one of the Jet Rangers took on some enemy fire. In response, about 3 Hueys were sent out with approximately 6 men to each Huey on an airdrop to get on the ground and find out what was going on. Within a few minutes of the 20 or so men positioned on the ground, there was a desperate call for help that they were outnumbered by several hundred as they had stumbled upon the North Vietnamese Regulars' base camp. Being an Assault or Attack Helicopter Company, dad said they didn’t waste any time or mess around. In his words, “Five Hueys were sent in to get our guys while 3 Cobras came swooping up in a triangular formation and opened fire on the enemy to keep them at bay. With the rescue mission successful and the alarming size and proximity of the enemy to our base camp, we sent out 5 cobras in cycles for 14-16 hours until the hostile threat to the army base camps had been eliminated.” Yeah, I believe I would want to be on the same side as the Assault or Attack Helicopter Company.
Through all of the challenges and obstacles, my dad persevered. He survived the dangerous trips into Cambodia. He survived the day he was out on the helipad working on a chopper and the word “incoming” was barely heard before the Huey on the helipad next to his was blown to pieces. He survived when all that was left of that Huey was shrapnel small enough to fit into a medicine bottle. According to his own commander, he saved the lives of many. It wasn’t directly, but it was by working 18-20 hour days for the better part of a year to keep the birds in the air to provide the air support that was needed to keep our soldiers, our veterans, alive. At his time of discharge, he had earned the National Defense Service Medal, Vietnam Service Medal, Vietnam Campaign Medal, 2 Army Commendation Medal, one with Oak Leaf Cluster, 1 O/S Bar, and a Good Conduct Medal. His rank was listed as a Spec 5, or SP5. That is just a piece of his incredible story, and I wanted to share it with the world.
What more can a daughter say? Am I proud? Am I patriotic? You bet I am. Happy Veteran’s Day, dad. I love you. I’m so thankful that because of you, so many others made it home. I’m so glad that YOU made it home.
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