The Flying Ladder:

THE PILOT

     The Flying Ladder began toward the end of last year. By then I already had the privilege of speaking with Marine Force Reconnaissance veterans Dave Thompson and Bob Buda. They told me stories about the ladder device used for emergency extraction of Force Recon teams in Vietnam, and their involvement the first time it was used in combat to pull Marines from the jungle. I was shocked by the details.

     One detail both veterans repeatedly returned to was the helicopter pilot in the mission. Captain Laurence R. Adams III flew the CH-46 that narrowly escaped with Thompson and his team dangling below, and Buda one of multiple casualties aboard the chopper. For his daring role bringing everyone back alive, Adams was awarded the Navy Cross.

     Buda met Adams briefly that day before they took off to get Thompson and his men on 12 January 1969. Thompson never met him. Only later, after Adams was awarded the Navy Cross, did Thompson learn the name of the pilot who saved his life that day. As I spoke with them nearly 49 years later, it was clear to me the impact this story made on their lives had not at all faded. I set out to find the pilot, hoping he was still alive, and hoping he would be willing to speak with me.

     After several days of digging, I was confident I had located the correct Larry Adams. I contacted him, explaining who I was and what I was doing, and asked if he would be willing to speak with me. “I appreciate your investigative talent and heart,” Mr. Adams replied. “Of all the soldiers that served in Vietnam there were hundreds of thousands of brave accomplishments achieved in that war. My story is but a blip on the screen. I was only a driver. My crew were my eyes, ears, and heart. Seek them out and you will have a more deserving and forthright story about bravery, and what made these guys volunteer for such a mission.” 

     He also presented me with a question. “What end do you hope to accomplish by publishing these articles?” I imagine this caught me off guard as much as my initial communication came to him unexpectedly. “That is an excellent question,” I replied, “One I believe I am still answering for myself.” After much consideration, I told Adams my personal end I’d like to accomplish would be to speak with each and every one of the hundreds of thousands of veterans who returned home from Vietnam with their stories, and tell those stories the way the veterans would tell them. My only agenda would be to create something as inspiring to the reader as the story has been to me, and honor those brave accomplishments. 

     Mr. Adams graciously agreed to speak with me, and we arranged a call. His stories were equally as shocking and compelling as the other Marines I’d spoken with, though from a completely different perspective. It fascinated me how the same story could be so unique depending on the participant’s point of view. I informed Adams I was in contact with one of the Marines he snatched from the jungle with the ladder, as well as another who rode with him in the chopper, and he expressed his interest in speaking with them.

CONNECTED

    The following day, I called Mr. Buda and Mr. Thompson to let them know I found Adams, and asked if they were interested in speaking with him. “More than interested,” said Thompson, “I would be thrilled.” 

     Everyone first connected through email. Spread from coast to coast in three different time zones, the veterans meeting in person was not an immediate option. Thompson replied to Adams that he wished to extend, “a long overdue thank you (only 48 years, 11 months, and 6 days late) for yourself and the crew of HMM-165 on that day.” I offered to arrange a conference call at a later date, and all agreed.

     Everyone dialed in on the morning of 7 January 2018. The fact that this occurred less than one week before the 49th anniversary of the mission did not go unnoticed. “49 years this Friday since we were last together,” said Adams. “Where did those years go?” replied Thompson.

     Everyone introduced themselves to connect voices with names. “It’s a little difficult to address some of the stuff we went through because it’s awfully hard to believe we survived it.” Said Buda. “I’d like to start by thanking Larry for the job he did that day. I went into the zone on different birds with different pilots, but Larry was the guy that pulled it off. I saw a lot of inserts and extracts, and a lot of them went to hell. But the one that day, I’m utterly amazed we all walked away from. At least to the degree that we did.” He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to rib his fellow patrol leader. “Freaking Thompson! You’ll notice the guy that got us all into that mess came away unscathed! But I’ll tell you what, he was a fantastic team leader, and that day was fantastic for all of us, but we all owe our thanks to Larry. Without your professional skill and dedication to getting the job done that day, the bad guys would have eaten the team alive that night.”

REFLECTION

    I posed a question to the group. “For this story in particular, how does it fit into your overall experience in Vietnam?” 

     Thompson described several of his memories, and how this story tops his list. “It’s almost like you relive it in living color, and you don’t really forget much. It’s something you can’t erase. It’s a memory thing that’s read only with no delete. I told Bob after 35 years I hadn’t really talked with anyone about this since I got out. He warned me once you start talking about this again, it all comes back and to be prepared. He was right.”

     “I think by the grace of God, things were set up the way they were and the mission was completed,” Adams said. He recounted memories of flying into Hue, running resupply missions, and performing emergency extractions. He addressed the politics of the war that he encountered upon his arrival back home. “What I remember is that I really didn’t care about the politics. I just wanted to go do the job, and do it to the best of my ability. A lot of people ask me about the politics, fighting communism, and everything. The people asking those questions have absolutely no grasp of what went on over there, and how close you all and myself came to dying on that mission. The privilege of being with you guys today, and Kyle’s perseverance in tracking everybody down, is taking place for a reason.”

     Buda provided his perspective on the mission. “It’s one of those things I think about most every day. I still remember specific things that I can’t get out of my mind. The voices over the intercom calling out all the things going on as the helicopter was almost destroyed. Mainly I remember looking up at the caution panel in front of you guys in the cockpit and thinking everything that could get lit up was lit up! I was there a long time, ran a lot of patrols. There are a lot of things that stand out and they don’t fade that much unfortunately, but that’s reality.”

     Buda and Thompson filled in Adams on the first rescue attempt with the jungle penetrator that day before he arrived. They explained how Buda ended up with the ladder aboard Adams’ chopper trying to convince him to let them use it. They all reflected on how cumbersome the ladder appeared and how incredible it is that it all worked.

     “I’ll tell you what, the crew chief that day did a fantastic job of directing you to move the ladder around in the zone,” said Buda to Adams. “It was a very tactically difficult thing to do, and that was the first time we ever did it in combat. You couldn’t see that thing. Only he and I could, and he knew exactly what commands to give you. That’s the reason we pulled it off, was your skill and his ability.”

     Adams asked Thompson if North Vietnamese Army soldiers or Viet Cong guerillas surrounded them on the ground that day. The recon Marines again filled Adams in on the NVA saturating the entire area and all the other difficulties they faced on the ground during Operation Taylor Common. 

     “The terrain was incredibly mountainous and difficult,” said Buda. “That’s one of the reasons I was assigned to go with you that day. I’d been out there a couple times with my team, and they wanted me to make sure we made it to the right location. It wasn’t too tough to find, though, because of all the air support overhead from the moment Dave got into trouble.”

     “Yeah they never did bill me for those ten flights of jets that dropped their ordnance that day!” mused Thompson. “Don’t worry Dave,” Buda replied, “we can fix that! I’ll generate an invoice and include my time on there too!”

EPILOGUE: LIONS AND WARRIORS

     Adams’ wife, Kris, joined us on the call as well. “I wanted to tell you, Kyle, your timing on this was really amazing. Larry doesn’t really talk about his experience over there, but in the last year or two he has mentioned interest in knowing what happened to some of the people he served with. When he first declined to talk with you I said are you kidding me? You need to have this conversation. I think it is really great that you all could meet and speak so thank you so much. This is a blessing”

     “That’s very true,” Adams added. “This is just fantastic, and it kind of closes the book for me. But then again, maybe it opens the book to greater things, who knows. I don’t talk about this very often, as my wife said, because sometimes there’s no need to, but when you talk about it with someone who was involved it really brings it back, and that can be a good thing.”

     Before we closed the call, Buda requested the opportunity to address Adams’ wife. “Kris, I just want to tell you. Make no uncertain thoughts about this subject. Your husband, quiet as he may be about it, was a lion and a warrior that day. His tactical skill and efforts saved our lives." Buda's words came slowly and deliberately. "I have absolutely no doubt in my mind. He saved our lives, and there’s no way to pay that back. We’ve owed him the lives we have. Our kids wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for his efforts, I can promise you that. So when you think about who you’re married to, you’ll never hear it from him, but you’re hearing it from us, am I right Dave?”

     “You’re damn right,” Thompson agreed. “There are eight of us that owe him our lives, and like Larry said everything happened for a reason. That was the reason he was there.”

     The aftermath of my research and conversations for this story has left me in personal reflection. The veterans I have gotten to know unanimously approach their service with uncommon humility. They often discuss their time in Vietnam as their “job.” I consider my own “jobs,” and my “service.” I try to understand leaving my youth in a country far away. I struggle comprehending the thought of a 13 month tour, so dense with memory that it could shake me to tears a lifetime later as it unpacks in my mind. I also fail to grasp the courage required to endure and survive the things they experienced, and the greater courage to relive them for me now.

     Today, the nation’s attitude towards veterans is significantly different from the America to which Vietnam veterans returned. The realization that someone has spent time in the Armed Forces often garners a, “thank you for your service.” For me, the privilege of speaking with men like Larry Adams, Bob Buda, and Dave Thompson has continually left me speechless. To them I offer simply, “thank you.”

Originally published in Leatherneck Magazine, April 2018.