Welcome aboard TKap. Joe Petito has a facebook page for anyone who has a connection to that day, you are welcome to join
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/g...d=156185791023
Semper Fi
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Welcome aboard TKap. Joe Petito has a facebook page for anyone who has a connection to that day, you are welcome to join
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/g...d=156185791023
Semper Fi
The October 27th incident has been on my mind a lot the past year. It drove me to research it in order to get some of my questions answered and to just come to some sense of closure if that is at all possible. Technology has certainly made things easier. In just a few hours I found more than I would have thought possible 10 years ago. Here is my story-
In October 1977, I was a Lance Corporal in the Marines. I was an aircrew survival equipment man (parachute rigger) in MWHS-1 stationed at MCAS Futenma on Okinawa. There was a shortage of first mechanics on the aircrews, so I was asked to begin training in addition to my regular MOS. Our squadron of C-117s was part of Operation Bayanihan IV/Fortress Lightning and had been flying in and out of a small gravel airstrip next to the beachhead on Mindoro. At night we flew back to Subic Bay and stayed in a hotel in Olongapo. The Navy airmen had secretly painted busted cherries on the tail of our C-117 after our first night there. I watched the recently released Star Wars film in a Filipino theater with life size figures of Darth Vader and Chewbaca out front the night before. On the morning of the 27th, we were taking a number of passengers to Mindoro. I was in the cabin of the C-117 chatting with passengers. There was a Marine mailman delivering his bag of letters. He said he was from Wisconsin. Me too! He said he was from Appleton. Me too! He said he had worked at a gas station on Meade Street. Me too! It turned out to be Tom Conard who had enlisted just before me, but we didn’t recognize each other because our hair had been cut off. Well, we where having a good old time reminiscing about home when the first mechanic motioned for me to come up to the cockpit. The crew was looking out the window, and over the radio I could hear the mayday being broadcast. A plume of smoke arose from the jungle marking the site of the crash. Other helicopters were hovering around the crash trying to blow out the flames with their rotors according to our pilot. I went back to the cabin and prepared the passengers for landing. I told Tom what was happening and returned to the cockpit to land. No sooner had we landed and we were told to pull out the seats in order take on wounded. The airstrip was a single gravel runway with no tarmac and the jungle came right up to the edge. The locals had a DC-3 parked there, and we were told they used it to fly chickens to market (sounds like an Arlo Guthrie song). I remember a small village off the end of the runway and the Marines there told us to be careful as the locals were stealing anything not nailed down. They reported that a jeep had been stolen and that a ransom had been paid for its safe return. We were told to take the seats out of the plane to make room for stretchers. Then we were told to put them back in for “walking wounded”. Then we took them off and then back on again. I bet those seats went on and off six times that day. Perhaps they just wanted to keep us enlisted guys busy during the wait. All day long we waited and waited for the helicopters to bring in the casualties. Marines came and went from the airstrip all day with scuttlebutt. Having read today the stories from others on this web site, it seems much of it was quite accurate. We were told that a CH-53 had a full load of Marines with their gear and a water buffalo (water tank), which was being lifted externally. The torque caused its tail to rotor brake off. The helicopter went down spinning. It was said that the ramp was down and Marines were being thrown out the back as it spun out of control. We heard that some casualties had been found up in trees, and some where found a half mile from the crash site (an exaggeration?). The reason, we were told, for the long delay was that there was no landing zone nearby. Finally, the helicopters with the casualties landed at the airstrip, and the wounded were loaded onto the C-117, and off we went. I am not sure how many, but I think it was no more than ten. I remember the luckiest guy had two broken legs, and the severity of injuries rapidly increased with the others. One Marine whose feet had been flattened like pancakes, had urgent need of a foot surgeon. The pilots radioed ahead for a specialist. I suspect the wounded Marines probably were given morphine, as most of them were unresponsive. The one who lay next to me sticks in my mind the most. He was a large black or dark skinned fellow. He looked at me and kept saying, “Help me,” over and over again. I felt totally helpless and just wanted the plane to fly faster. I seem to remember his face being torn off and just hanging by the hair line. I was thankful when we landed- I think in Manila, and ambulances took charge of the wounded. We quickly returned to Mindoro to evac any others that may have come in while we were gone. Tom was still there. He said while we were gone body bags filled with the dead had been brought in and then had been flown out by another C-117 from MWHS-1. It is interesting that he reported many more body bags than what the official body count was. I assume this is because many bags did not contain a whole body. By that time the sun was starting to set and our gunny went to the MPs to ask for security because we were outside the perimeter of the beachhead which was surrounded by barbed-wire. He came back furious, because he had been denied any Marine guards. We were told to arm ourselves with whatever we could find. Being the aircrew survival equipment man, I knew exactly what was in the airplane. Soon we were armed with flare guns, hatchets, improvised weapons, and Molotov cocktails thanks to San Miguel bottles and av-gas. Eventually, a young private with a fake M-16 was sent to guard us. The crew stayed with the C-117 that night. Two slept in the cockpit, one slept on the wing, and another and I slept on the ground next to the wheels. Around one or two in the morning, I was awoken by shouts, and the plane’s landing lights came on. I jumped up to see five or six guys diving back into the jungle. The fellow on the wing had gotten up so fast he fell off the wing. The men in the cockpit had been awake and said they had seen the intruders and that they were armed with machetes. The intruders did not come back. We did not get any more sleep. The next morning I cleaned up the blood from the cabin floor. For the next week we flew an incredible number of hours hauling people to Mindoro. My guess is some where investigators. The volume of passengers greatly increased. We were up before daybreak, flew all day long, and then returned to Subic Bay to service our plane, not getting more than a few hours of sleep before taking off again. We tried to catch cat naps whenever we had a chance- like when the plane was being refueled. One of the exciting things that happened right after the crash was that the other planes from MWHS-1 showed up, and we flew in formation. It was the only time I ever saw that happen and remember feeling quite proud. Meanwhile, we all ran out of money and the hotel wanted to be paid. I don’t know how it was done, but one night one of the sergeants on our flight crew came in with a typewriter and a stack of blank government checks and typed us up some cash. It was a long week, and I was so glad to get back to Okinawa.
I always wondered if the guys we flew out made it and how they are doing today. If anyone has any news about that I would be appreciative. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think about it, especially now that my own kids have grown up and moved out. I have more time to think these days. One of my sons just graduated from navy boot camp (Where did I go wrong?). I look at him and think, “That is how old I was when it happened. And he is so young!” Well, that is my story, and I’m sure after 33 years the memory isn’t what it used to be. I welcome any comments that could clarify or correct what I remember. When I found this website I was very excited to read the other accounts even though they raised even more questions in my mind. I notice no one has mentioned the role MWHS-1 played in the evacuation. I still own the Leatherneck Magazine which reported on the operation (no mention is made of the crash) as well as the issue of the Stars and Stripes Newspaper which reported the crash.
It's amazing where we all were, what it was like then, and where we are now.
"I always wondered if the guys we flew out made it and how they are doing today. If anyone has any news about that I would be appreciative."
L/Cpl Glynn J. Jacobson(Jake) from Thornton Co, now lives in Omaha NE with his wife, Alexis, and kids. I speak with him a couple times a month
Hello fellow Marine brothers
for some reason, i was thinking of the guys of the Minduro crash and since im not a computer guy, i was told to google it. to my ammazment, there it was. I was there and since my memory is so bad, i can only remember the sadness that spread thoughout the entire battalion. I was H&S Co. 3/9 station out of camp Shwab and if anybody out there remembers, we were in what was called "upper mau camp". I also remember being at the club and the band that was playing stoped and dedicated a song to the guys that pasted and went home. That song was "Color my world" by Chicago. i can remember everyone in that club whish was almost everybody cuase we were orderd to go by out company commander,started to cry. and, still today, after all these years, everytime i hear that song, i remember that day and have to change the radio station or just let it go and remember. it still hurts, now at 51 years of age, no one can relate exept for folks that were there. Thank you, my fellow marines out there who still remember. i thought i was the only one left that even cared.
Semper Fi
Mario Inocencio
Glad to see you post your memories Mario. Glad we got to talk today about the crash and our Bn Supply memories.
So the other day while watching the History Channel (or something) with my son (21 years old) some copters where featured and he asked "you where on an LPH, what kind of copter is that?" It was a CH-53 and just like that I was back 33 years on the USS New Orleans on that fatefull day! I was 19 and this was my first cruise, only been on the ship for about 5 months so still a boot. Word got back to the ship that there had been a bad crash and bodies would be flown back the the New Orleans as it was designated the "hospital ship". Later that day I was walking on the hanger deck and there before me was a long row of body bags, it just so happened they were starting to move the guys down to the coolers and needed help so I volunteered (that decision changed my life). We had to carry the guys down several ladders to below decks, and all the while doing this I had this thought that still haunts me today. "Back home the families of these guys are thinking they are safe and sound right now BUT I know they're not". All I could picture was someone driving up to my parents house and telling my Mom and Dad the news, I couldn't shake that thought, I felt almost guilty that I new something that was going to destroy so many lives. The next day the ship had a memorial service on the flight deck for all that perished. A chaplin spoke, there was a gun salute and a bugler played Taps. I got out of the Navy in 1980 and went on with my life then one day watching some war show Taps was played and I lost it in front of all my friends. No one knew what's wrong with Joe? How do you explain something like this to people that have never served overseas or saw what we did???????? This happened a number of times over the years and always triggered by hearing Taps. I would always just try and blow it off but finally my wife asked "what is up". I sat her down and told the story, she is the only person I've every told this to and it will stay that way. Finding this thread and reading all your stories is truely the best therapy I could ever ask for. For the guys that did the recovery work on the beach, my heart goes out to you for what you had to go through. For the survivors of that crash, I hope you all found some peace and are OK today. While carrying those guys down the ladders, I wondered "what's their names?" 33 years later I now know. Gloria, you are the people that got to me most, because I knew something you didn't and it ripped my heart out knowing what you would soon find out. Because of that day I've always looked at life in a different way than most. Sure it changed me but in a good way, each one of those guys that I carried gave me something that no one else ever could, a TRUE appreciation for life and a type of respect that words can't convey for folks that have served and givin the ultimate.
Take care all,
HT2 Joe McCarthy
USS New Orleans
5/7/77 - 10/8/80
Thanks for your story Joe. You and others have raised one issue that I just realized myself: I haven't talked about this with anyone except those here on this thread.
I dug up my 1977 WESTPAC cruise book looking for info and not much. They didn't even mention the accident, guess things where different back then. Anyway here's what is listed.
Joe
"Gloria, you are the people that got to me most, because I knew something you didn't and it ripped my heart out knowing what you would soon find out. Because of that day I've always looked at life in a different way than most. Sure it changed me but in a good way, each one of those guys that I carried gave me something that no one else ever could, a TRUE appreciation for life and a type of respect that words can't convey for folks that have served and givin the ultimate."
Dear Joe, was very anxious to get back to the computer to read your story and when I did it was so amazing to me for this reason - I believe the crash took place on a thur., u.s. time. and they did not come to the door to tell me until Saturday afternoon. That morning I got a dozen red roses in the mail from the overseas florist that Chuck sent and the card read, "thanks for marrying me". I kept telling the casualty officer he can't be dead because I just got the roses. It was his silent horrified expression that made me realize it was true. For the longest time I was obsessed with those three missing days. How could he be gone for three days and I could not feel it? If they waited another day, would I have had one more dream day? I was so amazed that you were so aware, at 19 years old, of the time difference to the families. Like so many men who participate in this website, you are one special guy!
Chuck and I had our honeymoon at Niagara Falls. One day he turned me towards a tourist bus unloading a bunch of seniors. He said he wanted us to always do things together and have fun even when we are old, like the people getting off the bus. I said" My God Chuck we are only in our 20's, lets get thru our honeymoon first!. This week on vacation with Jeff and the dog, or my "two" hound dogs as I like to refer to them, I had such a wonderful time I could not help but think that I really did end up having the happy ending that Chuck envisioned for me on our honeymoon.
Hey Gloria,
Welcome home !!!!!
I often wondered just how long it did take before families where notified, UGH, I can't imagine........ More importantly it's SOOOOOOO good to hear life has taken care of you. Oh and by the way..... YOU'RE the one that's amazing, sharing the stuff you did is pretty awesome, we're just a bunch of guys doing what we do .......
Take care and enjoy !!
Joe
Thanks Gloria-
You help put the real issues in perspective for many of us, and you have been a great example. We continue.
Joe.
Brian:
Are you still around? I tried to send you an email but it bounced back.
John
Quote:
Originally Posted by brian1125
I have spent the last two day reading all the posts about that hot and terribly sad October day on Mindoro, back when we were young men. I see that the discussion as pretty much moved from here to Facebook so I will post on FB as well. However, I feel a need, almost a compulsion to post here first. This is where it began and where after years of looking, I finally found a collective point of people with a common bond sharing stories, emotions and information that is so important to us all. This site for me has a very sacred and intimate feel to it, unlike the much more public FB, (altough the FB page is a great idea). Perhaps it is due to the fact that inorder for one to have found this site, requires one to have really searched for or sought out a place to connect. A place to bring, share and rest memories that have touched us all in so many different ways. Each comment, story and rememberance are like bouquets of flowers laid at the foot of a beautiful memorial. Some are single little flowers, all that is left following the unforgiving storms of time which washed away, the fresher more vivid memories. Others such as Gloria's and John's are full and as fresh and as beautiful as the day they first came to life. What a blessing it is to have Gloria, John and others cherish and adore our tiny little contributions, while we few Marines and Sailors are gifted with the sweet scent and beauty of their entire life garden of memories. I am going to write my story and then share it in a seperate post.
Semper Fi.
RC
I was thinking about this crash the other day. I decided to google it and found this thread. I was stationed with the 3rd Recon Battalion at the time and was on the New Orleans as well. I dug out the pamphlet that I have of the Memorial Service that occurred aboard ship after the crash. It lists the proceedings, but not the names of the fallen. If anyone is interested in a copy, please let me know and I can email a copy.