Our Thoughts and Remembrances
Image courtesy of Lil Doc's
Photos provided by Arthur's family members, Joe Smith, Joan Smith Raymond and Lisa Raymond:
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| Brothers l. to r.:Jeff, Arthur, Joseph, Dennis | Arthur, could be at Ft. Carson, CO | Arthur and his '57 Chevy, brother Joe now has the car and plans on restoring it. | Arthur with his parents |
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Early Army days |
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Childhood photos |
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Funeral service in |
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| A Tribute To A Flying Soldier
The Army has soldiers that fight from the air, Courage makes them do things that I wouldn’t dare. I’ll tell you of a young man who flew with no fear, With initials A.W. they called him “Rootbeer”. Yes, Specialist Five Arthur W. Smith, As a soldier, a brother and son will be missed. For the people that knew him, life will not be the same, Though we cried when he left us , we’re glad that he came. For he had a heart big as all the outdoors, With a physique that would match it without any flaws. He was so happy, so handsome and stood very tall, He had such great strength and stood firm as a wall. Yet he was a person upon whom you could depend, But don’t take my word for it, just ask any friend. And speaking of friends, I do not have to think, To know one of the truest was “Sir Torrence Link”. When together there was no place that they could not reach, And they knew all the good spots in Daytona Beach. So they traveled together to most all the dances, And the colors they wore caused their share of the glances. It went on this way for a couple of years, And if children stayed little there might be less tears. But children grow older, as well we all know, And the Army is the first place that most young men go. So Arthur went to the Army and he did enlist, But there was one thing upon which he did insist. He told the recruiter, “You must realize, I want to fix choppers, to keep them in the skies”. He proved he was handy with all kinds of tools, And the Army in turn sent him to many fine schools. That he was a good soldier and student it’s clear, They made him Spec Five in about just one year.
But he still desired a couple of things, Then he passed many tests and won his “Silver Wings”. And with it came Crew Chief and his chance to fly, He would be in his chopper when it took to the sky. Then he came home on leave and he told Dad and Mom, “I soon must be leaving, we’re going to Viet Nam. Take care of yourselves, please don’t worry about me, For God has His plans and what must be, will be”. And in order not to worry us anymore, He wrote that where he was “You wouldn’t know there’s a war”. And how could we know that where he would be, Was just a few miles south of the D.M.Z. Through those very long days, as well as the nights, Though we did not know it, he was still making flights. When given instructions a good soldier listens, So Arthur continued those hazardous missions. Then God said to Arthur “I’m taking you home, Through the skies of Viet Nam you’ll no longer roam. We need you in Heaven and we’ll treat you well, You’ve spent your last tour of your duty in Hell”. Now God only asks us, that we accept Him, For He sent down His Son to cleanse us of our sin. So we’ll send Him our prayers, wrapped up in our love, That we might join Arthur in Heaven above. By Harold Smith
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The Screaming Eagles
Fighting soldiers from the sky, Fearless men who fly and die. Men who make the enemy curse, The brave men of the 101st. We take our choppers where we must, For we have earned our buddies trust. So we fly by day and night, And when we do then we will fight. The foe has met more than their match, They’ll not forget that shoulder patch. The patch that shows so fine and regal, The proud head of the “Screaming Eagle.” The eagle’s screaming to its’ prey, “Go back home and this time stay. If you don’t you’ll surely die, When you hear my fierce war cry.” Now some of us must also go, For when he calls we can’t say no. So we will make just one more flight, And go from darkness into light. Now please don’t think of us as dead, For we have just gone on ahead. To a God who really cares, Now we can also hear your prayers. We know for those we leave there’s pain, Don’t let our journey be in vain. Press the fight that we may see, One and all share liberty. By Harold Smith |
From the group mail traffic:
(From John Scarlett)
Dave,
As I remember Root Beer he was originally in the maintenance company and had
wanted for some time to get into flying and being a crew chief. Many of
our crew chiefs came from the maintenance company and hard work paid off for
those men who wanted to fly, Root Beer being one of those. After he was
selected for the crew chief position he continued to work hard and was one of my
favorite crew chiefs.
On the day that AW was killed I was flight lead for that day's operations and
had specifically chosen to fly with him, and Dave, I can assure you that not one
day has gone by since that time that I have not thought of AW. I
wish I could say more but words elude me, and as I said, he is almost daily in
my thoughts.
John
Here is how it went:
First Platoon (my platoon) was sent home, as only one
platoon was needed for the mission. Our illustrious company commander picked
my platoon to go because our aircraft were parked at the front of the LZ. (Of
course
there were no trees anywhere within clicks of Cam Lo,
but perhaps he couldn't see the LZ from the trees. And there was no wind.)
Anyway, at my urging First Platoon's Ben Peeples stayed with the flight as
medevac chase aircraft. He had just come over from the Comancheros and was our
most experienced pilot. Just before dark, the artillery prep on the LZ from
Quang Tri missed the LZ by about 200 meters, and John Scarlett and Bob Stroud
led Second Platoon in anyway, as ordered. Another command detonated mine
blew up close enough to kill their crew chief. John was badly burned (no
nomex in country yet!) and the rest of the night was spent trying to get them
out while being raked with small arms and machine gun fire from a nearby
hillside bunker complex.
Replies to Russ:
Russ & Flight:
I remember most of the events of that day, however many years, 31 in April, seem to cloud the focus adjustment.
I still recall going into the LZ, which happened to be the only clearing on that ridgeline where a helicopter
could land. The thought did run through my mind that the NVA were probably waiting for some stupid imperialistic
dog of a helicopter pilot to land on their turf. The days leading up to this event were just as impressive to
us. We had already started doing the CCN missions, which were always good for a few rounds of festive
partying from our little yellow- skinned friends. Back to Cam Lo. After the aircraft was hit and the fire
started we got everyone out that we could. John was badly burned and the door gunner was slightly burned
and had pieces of shrapnel in his ass. The force of the explosion drove it through the transmission island and
into him. We managed to get off the top of the hill and into some small trees. We were in a bad place and we
had to do something or it was going to get a lot worse. As Russ said, I managed to get a PRC90 from one of the
ARVN troops. Established contact and was surprise to hear our dapper little 05 say, “we can’t afford to send in
another aircraft to pick you up”. SAY WHAT! That’s right, as far as he was concerned, see
ya, hope everything
turns out ok for you. I could not believe what I just heard. As I looked up all I
could see were aircraft flying circles around the LZ at different altitudes and opposite directions, what a cluster.
As it turns out one of the gun drivers told the 05 to pack his shit and get the hell out of the AO. As Russ said
I had a signal mirror in my pocket and I used it mark our position for the guns. We were pretty mush in deep
shit and it was going down hill fast. The NVA were all
over the place and just about any place the guns shot they hit something. Russ, I still have that mirror and I
carried it on every flight until I retired in 1992. The 05 and 04 were useless. The
CPT’s, LT’s and Warrants
are running the show. Anyway I guess a Marine CH-46 driver could not stand it any more and he landed
on the hill next to our burned UH-1 and we limped and hoppled up the hill to get the hell out of there. I remember
as we were departing the hill a lot of holes were appearing in the skin of the aircraft just in front of me. Boy
somebody was really pissed at us. There is more to this story and I will get my thoughts together and sent it
along.
Bob Stroud
Lancer 68-69
Russ,
Thanks for sharing that story with us. For me personally, it helps by filling a few holes in my memory about
that day. I still have difficulty with that day at Cam Lo as our first KIA was a very close friend. Arthur W. "Root
Beer" Smith and I came up from maintenance, to be Crew Chiefs together. We almost lost our jobs as CEs
shortly after getting them because of an AWOL incident when we were out in California preparing the aircraft
for shipment to Vietnam. But that is another story to tell latter on.
What I remember most of that time period is that we had just gotten permission, a few days before, to name
our birds. Just a name of our choosing, no drawings of any kind and it had to be on the outside bulkhead between
the AC and crew compartments. I had named my ship "The Green Messiah" and Root Beer had named his
"The Time Machine". And all these years I still try to convince myself that if he had only chosen another
name.
Being an enlisted man, as with all of us who were, we had our opinions about our leadership. But from the
enlisted perspective we often did not know enough about what was really going on at times. You who were closer
to the top levels of leadership, I think, were privileged to know more and could better evaluate what was really
happening around us at times. But that same privilege is also the cross one bears for the times that he knew
better but could do nothing about it.
It is not odd that you have been carrying all this around for so long. We all are carrying something around and
the whole intent of this group is to express openly, to those who can understand, our feelings. We share our
sorrows and joys with brothers who have experienced the same things.
Thanks again Russ,
David Mussey
Russ,
I saw your article and thank you for it. I remember some of the details differently. After the initial Cluster, we were
parked in a field. Everyone shut down but I kept my blades turning because I wanted to monitor the radio traffic. One pair
of phantoms had expended and the 2nd was down to 20 mm when they spotted or heard from a friendly in the
LZ. They stopped the shooting and called for any helicopters to respond. I had already asked my crew if they were OK going
back if there was a need. All had pre-volunteered immediately. I asked Ward to go get Donald Guest as I had been impressed
with his focus and commitment. Remember I was new to the unit and did not know many people. Guest instantly
volunteered to go and he sat in the back on the floor with an M-16 as an extra gun. We took off without permission
and flew back to the LZ where we sat on the ground getting shot up until this Arvn ran over and jumped in. My notes
taken at the time say that most of the fire came from an NVA about 50 feet away and that Ward shot him with the M-60.
Bullets come though the chin bubble and the instrument panel, among other places. We had a good look at the LZ. It
was nude as a result of the bombing. When we got back,
someone else was on the radio claiming to be a friendly in LZ. The honcho's wanted me to go back but my plane was
shot up and I was convinced it was a trap. Someone else volunteered and they were not going to take a chase ship until I
suggested it. The next ship in took an RPG through the tail boom that took out the cables but did not explode. The chase
ship came in and got all out. We were given impact awards within a few days by Zais, his own self.
Ben Peeples.
A (not so) funny thing happened on the way to Vietnam: From David Mussey
The other day I replied to Russ's mail about his memories of Arthur "Root Beer" Smith. I hinted to a story of
the time when Root Beer and I were AWOL. Here is the story as I recall. It is one of those stories someone asked
about the Lancers before we had gotten to Vietnam. As a preface to the story, we had just completed our mission
at Sharpe Army Depot preparing our ships for shipment to Nam. There are actually two other interesting
stories out of our flight across the Southwest to California. Perhaps Russ may write about the flight's journey
through Gorman Pass, CA.. Other than Root Beer and myself, all names have been left out.
Here goes, Dave.
We had completed our mission a few days ahead of schedule and were given the opportunity to take a few
days of leave if we went farther than the Frisco Bay area. I, being from LA, saw a chance to visit with my
Dad once more before leaving for overseas, Root Beer had a sister in the LA area and elected to also take some
leave. We were issued regular leave passes with verbal instructions that we must return to the Stockton area by
1800 hours that following Sunday evening. Root Beer and I traveled together and when we checked on the
flight schedule for the return trip we had to make a choice. We could catch a noon flight that would get us
back by 1 pm but cut off some of our time with family. We could also catch a 6 pm flight and be back by 7 pm,
after our verbal return time. We had calculated that no one would be the wiser as we only had to be in the Stockton
area by 6 pm and didn’t have to sign in until midnight. Although violating orders, we were comfortable
that we’d pull it off without a problem. About 5 pm on that Sunday, Root Beer and I were arriving
at the airport to board our plane back to Stockton. And at the same time a plane that had just left the runway
crashed into the ocean closing down the airport. This event disrupted the day for many passengers sitting
at the airport. We were told that it was unsure as to when the airport would be opened to traffic again, but
all passengers could board their flights as soon as rescue operations were completed. We were in a pickle.
Knowing that we would not make it back to Stockton even by midnight, I decided to call the OIC at his hotel
and explain what had happened and that we were stuck in LA for the duration. The group was scheduled to leave
for Carson the next morning. The Lt. told me to wait out the situation and call back at 10 pm for an update and
farther instructions. As a precaution, Root Beer and I also reported to the Airport Military Police to prevent
from being declared AWOL. The MP’s issued us provisional passes extending our grace period till we were
able to report to our unit. It also provided written orders that we were to proceed by the most expedient means
possible to reach our unit. Which, in this case, was still to wait out the disaster and catch a plane. My 10 pm call
to the Lt. had given him enough time to see the newscasts of the situation at LAX. He had also noted the time
of the crash and asked me what time our flight was due to leave LAX. I spoke the truth and told him that we
were to leave at 1800 hours, knowing that this was admitting to disobeying orders. His instructions to us were
to proceed to San Francisco as soon as possible and to meet up with the rest of the unit at the prescribed gate
for our flight back to Colorado. He also stated that he would deal with us upon return to our parent unit. Root
Beer and I were both Specialists Four on a promotion list to SP5. We saw that promotion going down the drain
and probably being reduced to privates again. Our CO being a field grade officer who had the authority to reduce
us two grades on company level punishment. We finally caught a flight to SFO shortly after 2 am and
met up with the rest of the unit later that morning. The Lt. was with his wife and would not even speak to us,
but his look let us know that he was displeased. Company formation the next morning was brief as it had
been raining at Ft. Carson for a couple days. Root Beer and I did not see the Lt. in formation and were slightly
relieved. That was short lived when the 1SGT called our names and told us to report to the orderly room after formation.
We reported and Top told us to report to the Commanding Officer. The jig was up. We knocked and
walked in when told to do so. I noticed, right away, our platoon leaders and platoon sergeants standing beside
the commander’s desk. We gave our salutes and were told to stand at ease. Then the Major nodded toward the
1SGT, who began by calling "attention to orders", then top proceeded to read the orders that had granted Root
Beer and me our promotions to SP5 while we were on our mission to California. After receiving our new
stripes and congratulations from everyone we were dismissed to report back to work. We figured that the Lt.
had not yet given the commander his report and that our promotions would be short lived. The two of us were
called in to the Lt.’s office a couple days later. He told us that he had taken several days leave and was unable to
file his report before we were promoted. He said that we were lucky because he decided to forget the issue in light
of our promotions and that we had better never cross him again. We never did.
Copy of certificate for Memorial Brick to be installed at the "Pathway of Legends" Walkway at the new Fort Campbell Museum:
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