LT (Lieutenant Leslie Forrest Douglas Jr) – 1,334 words

Last edit July, 2020:

I found that I have problems remembering a lot of the details of major events during my last tour. The fact that we got falling down drunk at the end of every day probably had a lot to do with that. I’m told that your brain needs a period of good sleep to process the data learned that day into long term memory. I’m not sure a drunken stupor would qualify as good sleep. Obviously, more research is needed.

I was flying Hueys for the 1st Cavalry Division out of Phouc Vinh, Vietnam. In 1970 we led a campaign into Cambodia. One of our Hueys got shot down at the end of the campaign. Only the door gunner survived. He managed to pull one of the pilots out but he still died. It was horrendous for him; he has bonded with our group of pilots that have remained in touch through our reunions every year.

For years I thought that I must have been out of the country during the crash because I couldn’t remember any of the details. When I realized that I was in fact there on the day of the crash, I reached out to the group for details. Turns out my two best friends over there were deeply involved in the aftermath. I’ll start with Harv’s story.

Harvey, AKA William J Tritt, was my hooch mate and spiritual guide. For whom I will always have a deep bond and enormous respect. One night Harv came down with an impacted wisdom tooth. No amount of liquid anesthesia self administered at the O club could relieve the pain. One of the guys volunteered to take his mission the next morning so Harv could get it fixed. His name was 1st Lieutenant Leslie Forrest Douglas Jr (we called him “LT”) and he didn’t come back from that mission.

Harv took it pretty personal. That was a lot of guilt he was to carry and it only got worse over the years. You’ll see why soon. He wasn’t going to go to the memorial that our unit was having for the crew until (according to Harv) I talked him into it. Apparently, I convinced him that he would forever bemoan the fact that he didn’t go and he needed to go and say goodbye.

Chooch’s story is a little harder. Chooch, AKA Jim Coleman, and I have a long history; we played football together in high school. As I recall we were both grunts (linemen) on a team with a winning history. In those days you earned a “Letter” on the football team when you played in a certain number of quarters in league games. Through a careful system of substitution, our coach lettered the entire squad (44 players) every year and still won the LA City league championship regularly. We were all quite proud of that accomplishment.

A few years later, during my first few days at Flight school, we met in the chow line. One of the very few places in flight school where interaction between WOCs not in your company was allowed. He was in the class that was two weeks ahead of mine. We didn’t get to talk much during flight school and we went to different bases for our advanced training so we lost touch with each other. A few months later, when I walked into the mess hall on the first day in my new unit in Vietnam as a FNG pilot, there was Chooch, still two weeks ahead of me. We were to have many exciting escapades together. He and his wife Cathy continue to be an important part of my support group.

He and LT both had baby daughters back home and they had a pact. If either one of them didn’t make it back, the survivor would visit the other’s daughter and explain what her daddy did in the war. We would much later learn that LT’s wife couldn’t deal with his death and wound up institutionalized. LT’s daughter (Kim) was raised by her grandmother. The bottom line was that Chooch couldn’t bring himself to go see her and that just added to the guilt. I later learned that Chooch was able to visit the family some 16 years later. Here is his recollection as related to me in July 2020:

“I don’t remember if I had seen your recollection before. A, minor modification, In 1986 I did go to Winona, MS and visit the family. I had sent a letter to the Mayor asking for help in contacting the family. He was happy to help and did. He was LTD’s scout master. It was a tough event. LTD’s father, mother, brother and Kim were there, his sister lived close but emotionally could not attend. I have since met her. At one point during the visit someone brought Linda, the widow, over from the hospital. She was only there for a very short time, was clearly drugged, and has no recollection of my visit.

You will recall Douglas loved stock car racing. I graced him with the nickname “ LTD”, blending his rank, initials and stock cars, Ford LTD. Wasn’t I clever 😊🚁 “

Chooch followed that edit with another correction hours later:

“Just realized an error. LTD was from Verona, not Winona MS. Sorry. I had an interesting experience in Winona after flight school, before heading to SE Asia. I have for years made this same error when talking about LTD. ” Thanks Chooch; keeping the record as accurate as possible ( given our age ) helps keep balance in the Force. Now back to the story.

John Gooseman, the door gunner/sole survivor, did go to see her after his tour but he was battling some serious guilt over their plight and couldn’t go back right after returning. Sometime many years later a documentary filmmaker, Patrick Fries, came to one of our reunions with Kim. They wanted to see if they could get material for the film he was making, “In The Shadow Of The Blade”. They met Chooch and got a lot of material.

The film consisted of several stories about the Huey and how it connected everyone during the war. Southwest Airlines funded the purchase, refurbishing and operation of a vintage Huey complete with instructor pilot for insurance purposes. The storyline was to fly the Huey around the states and hook up with survivors like Kim and show her what her dad did in the war. The Huey was a common link that most Vietnam vets share. Its rotor blades emit a distinctive “wop wop” that announce its pending arrival long before you see it. That could be a good or bad thing, depending on the tactical situation and whose side you were on. I have a promo T shirt for the movie that says, “You Ain’t Getting Outa Here Until You Hear The Sound of Those Blades”.

Kim knew little to nothing about Chooch or what her dad did in the war. They connected and Chooch finally got to fulfill his obligation. The ending is pretty cool. Both of them got to fly in the left seat of the Huey for the film and Chooch wound up giving her away at her wedding; which also became part of the film. At a later reunion we all went to a special pre release screening of the movie. I’ll just say, it was an emotional experience; he got it right. If you’re interested just Google “In The Shadow of the Blade” or Arrowhead Films. They have produced several outstanding documentaries about different segments of the Vietnam war.

John Gooseman was there also and connected with all of us. He’s been coming to a lot of our reunions and is another important part of my group. There was one complication at the time of the crash. A few days after the crash site was secured and the remains were flown out to graves registration, we were told that they could only account for three of the four bodies and we needed to return to the site to search for more remains. The problem was we had completed the withdrawal from Cambodia and the brass said there was no way we could go across the border again.

A while ago the US government recovered some remains from the crash and they were interred at Arlington. They made John part of the ceremony and gave him a commemorative coin which a group of us left at the Vietnam memorial this August (2015) during our annual reunion.

May they rest in peace.