The badge in the center above is the Combat Infantryman's Badge,  better known as a CIB.  When you see a man wearing this badge you are looking at a man who has proven himself in combat and has seen more than anyone wants to see in his lifetime.  Take this man's hand and shake it while you thank him from the bottom of your heart for the sacrifices he has made for you and this country.  

Freedom didn't just happen.  The President and all the the politicians did not win and do not insure the freedom's we enjoy in this country.  It is the man who who has earned this badge and all the members of the military of the United States that insure our freedom.

We hope we were always there when you needed us.

We proudly salute all the grunts from all services who gave so very much to their country

Messages to the 187th AHC from the "Grunts" we proudly worked for:

5/21/2017 From: Mark Cheresh - Company A,1/27 Infantry Wolfhounds, 25th Inf Div

May 21, 2017 Subject: Helicopter Crash of Nov. 27, '68 To the 187th AHC Board: My name is Mark Cheresh. I served as a Light-Weapons Infantryman (11Bulletstopper) with Company A, 1/27 Wolfhounds, 25th Division out of two Fire Support Bases South of Dau Tieng (Mahone I and Mahone II, along Hwy 14).  You'll remember that this entire area (known as The Trapezoid) was extremely hostile and totally VC-controlled.  Geographically, we were at the very North end of the Boi Loi Woods yet close to the Ho Bo Woods, Iron Triangle and The Michelin Plantation.  I arrived in mid-October of '68.  Our Company area was next to the East gate at Dau Tieng in The Michelin (of course, we were rarely there except for a brief Stand Down periodically).  We rode Eagle Flights on a regular basis...the only time I felt cool air. Here's my reason for writing you:  An incident that occurred on November 27, '68 has haunted me for decades.  My unit witnessed the Flare Ship crash as we sat in a paddy awaiting your slicks to arrive to ferry us back across the river to Mahone I.  There are 6 other Wolfhound Brothers whom I'm still in close contact with that were there that night and can attest to the event...an event that as we watched take place was as surreal as anyone could imagine.  We are still struck by how quickly the Huey went down.  We saw the entire event so please know that those final images are deeply etched in our memories. I don't want to go into a long screed here for fear of opening wounds.  I know that these were your brethren... I, in turn, have the same sacred feelings for the GIs whom I was with in combat when they died.  I read all of the posts left as "remembrances" by the "187th" for Allen Eugene Duneman and his crewmen.  It appears that all were revered and remembered fondly.  My highest regards an deepest thanks go to Medics and Helicopter Pilots...I witnessed bravery, gallantry and fortitude that is absolutely ineffable. If you are interested in making contact with Infantrymen whom were there and witness the crash, please feel free to contact me.  The saddest aspect of that day was that we sat in that rice paddy for many hours awaiting the slicks.  By the time you could finally fulfill the mission, it was dark and now required "flares".  After reading the accounts of the pilots flying over 15 hours that day, I NOW understand (for the first time) why you couldn't get to us.  I feel guilty revealing this to you, but as the hours rolled by and we continued to be stranded, our anger grew.  We had NO idea regarding what your day had held.  Please forgive me. With regards, Mark Cheresh ================== Date: May 22, 2017 Subject: re: Helicopter Crash of Nov. 27, '68 Mark, Thank you for your inquiry.  Your letter is the first for me from a soldier that we supported. It's amazing the connections that are made after so many, many years. We came home from "Over There" to a public, and even our old friends, that could care less about our experiences. Your inquiry into Allen Duneman and crew's fateful day in Nov 1968 caught my attention as he was a good friend and I was in operations the night his ship went down. Events of that night can be found detailed in the following stories: http://www.187thahc.net/Stories/Trialbyfirestory.htm and http://www.187thahc.net/Stories/trilogy.htm Again, thank you for your side of that story and I hope we see you at our reunion this year. Best regards, Ian Dawson ================ Begin forwarded message: From: Mark Cheresh Ian... Thank you so much for reaching-out to me.  As I write this, all I picture is the Huey dropping like a rock...the fact that it happened very quickly would be the only redeemable aspect of that event......we all stood in that paddy awaiting the slicks as the tragedy occurred an I was incredulous as the episode unfolded.  I told Jim Gaffney earlier this evening that we jumped on the FIRST Huey we could and overloaded it to the hilt.  I could be wrong, but I seem to remember a buzzer going off and red lights flashing. No one wanted to be left in the paddy (we had waited for many hours for an Eagle Flight to take us back to Mahone I...just across the Saigon River)...especially in light of what had just taken place.  I remember that the "Flare Ship" had dropped one flare without incident but not two (Jim verified my recollection).  Very soon, the slick was engulfed and going down. Our two Fire Support Bases...Mahone I and Mahone II were located South of Dau Tieng down "Highway" 14 (a dirt road).  Both were in horrible areas, but Mahone I still scares me when I think of its locale...between the villages of Ben Chua on the South and Thanh An to the North (ALL V.C.).  We worked The Trapezoid, Boi Loi Woods, Ho Bo Woods, the North end of The Iron Triangle and (NVA) in the Michelin Plantation (of course).  All areas were "Numbah 10, G.I.".  As an Infantryman in III Corps, I can tell you without equivocation that I have NO good memories about my time on-line.  For this So. California surfer, it was absolute torture (as it was for all of us!).  Truthfully, I don't know how any of us prevailed.  I (literally) thought I was in hell (wrote my Parents about this perception). After our RTO had been hit for the third time, I inherited the PRC-25.  I'm convinced that humping it saved my life... I no longer had to walk rotational point  (I was at least in the middle of our platoon with our Lieutenant).  At the time the flare ship went down we were no more than a quarter-mile away from the crash site- a very sad day for ALL concerned.  As my knowledge grows regarding what your pilots and crew had been through that particular day, I remain in awe when I think of their courage and dedication to their assignments.  I'm stunned. I am fully planning on attending your reunion in Las Vegas this Veterans' Day. I would be honored to be in your company. Sincerely, Mark Cheresh

6/13/2000
From: John Gilbertson  - 4th Battalion. 9th Infantry Division

I was a medic D Co. 2/12th. 25th Div. Dec 67 to Dec 68. You guys flew support for us and took us places via slicks that would have been better unvisited. You always came back for us and I thank you for that especially when there were others near who did not welcome you as we did.. Your men would fly me and a casualty in to a hospital and then fly me back in the hot LZ we left. I am grateful. We grunts are in your debt.

I have always wished to meet someone who flew support, and had that wish come true when a few years ago I met Bob "Frenchy" Gibeault.   I was deeply moved and honored. He had been wounded in a village south of Cu Chi while or near the time we were fighting a week battle east of Cu Chi in Tan Hoa. Frenchy was a gunner on your ships and had many insights on battles we were in. This past weekend I had the most memorable event happen. Frenchy came to visit this old medic once again but the highlight was when Jack Lindeman, a pilot in the 187th, who had flown support at Loc Ninh a nasty battle for us, came to my home to meet with Frenchy. The stories, the history from another perspective, the heroics of these men have moved me more than I can express. You  men and brothers were not given adequate recognition or the highest medals you deserved in this old medics opinion. To have both a pilot and gunner in my humble home in No. Calif. was an honor I will never forget. I have heard and read many of your stories and feel I know many of you I have never met. I would like to meet and thank each of you . I pray you are all well and have recovered to some extent from your sacrifice. I feel a kinship to the men in the air in the respect that when the S--- hit the fan we had to remain exposed. A very uncomfortable feeling I might add. God Bless you all, HEROES beyond description.

Just an old Doc
Ken Blakely

During my stay on top of the mountain one particularly dreary time was during the monsoon season.  A cloud formed around the top of the mountain during the daytime, which I guess was caused by the warm solid granite mountain coming into contact with the cool moist air.  The fog was so thick that no choppers could get in to re-supply us with food.

Several times I had lied to the people on the ground below, telling them that it was clear up on top - just looks foggy from down below. The few choppers I was able to coax into trying had come up and flown around in circles for a while in the fog and left. I was standing on top of the mountain in the fog and it sounded like the chopper was everywhere.

We had a few tons of rice and whatever we could catch, and had mongoose and rice, baboon and rice, and puppy soup.  When the fog finally cleared a Huey from the 187th came in with an unexpected passenger about 4:30 one afternoon.  When we asked the pilot to make a run to our B Team in Tay Ninh for food, he told us it was too late, that he wanted to be back at his base by 5.  We offered to give him a carbine, and when he said he had one, we offered him an AK-47.  He agreed and we gave him the radio frequency and call sign and away he went.

I called the B Team down in Tay Ninh and told them he was coming, and 20 minutes later we saw him approaching.   I called him on the radio and asked if he wanted smoke and he said "I don't need your help - just get out of the way."  When someone told me that I had a nice large boulder to hide behind and that's where I went.  When the chopper got closer I could see they had stuffed the Huey to the gills with cases and cases of beer and cokes and canned goods.  One Vietnamese woman was squatting on top of all the cases of canned goods, and she held a string leash and had the string tied around 4 live chickens.

As the chopper approached the wind was in the pilots face and was gusting to about 50 mph.  The pilot was fighting the wind to bring it straight in when suddenly the wind died completely. Then a few seconds later the wind blew even stronger from the side. The result was that the pilot flew into the mountain and before he could adjust for the side wind, the chopper was thrown over on its side.  The blades contacted the ground and it ripped up the blades, then tore the transmission out of the top of the chopper, which flew about 500 feet up into the air. 

When the body of the chopper landed on the ground it landed on the down slope on the side of the LZ, and began rolling down the slope.  We had three strands of barbed wire around the outer perimeter of the camp, and it was about 20 yards in between each strand.  When the chopper began rolling down the slope I ran over to the edge of the pad with our Captain, and when the chopper rolled over the first strand the Captain said "That's ONE." About the same time the woman jumped out of the chopper with her
chickens flapping their wings and clucking, and the cases of cans were coming out and busting up and cans were flying everywhere along the slope.  Many of the Vietnamese CDG (national guard - of which there were about 125 up on the mountain with their families) went running down the slope picking up cans and stuffing them into their fatigues. They looked like Harpo Marx characters in a bizarre shoplifting scene, and were jabbering away in Vietnamese and scrambling to stuff all they could into their pants.  About this time the chopper reached the second strand and rolled over it and the Captain said "That's TWO." It was then I realized they were rolling toward the last strand and after that it was a 3,000 foot drop down the side of the mountain. I said out loud "Come on STOP, STOP, STOP ROLLING!"

One of the door gunners who was getting thrown around was screaming when the
chopper rolled up on the third strand and then finally came to a stop.  The door gunner who was screaming had his leg outside the chopper and the tail was on his leg.  One of the Vietnamese lifted it up and he stopped screaming.  The crew was a bit shaken up, but there were no injuries.  The pilot pulled the radios out of the chopper and when he came walking up the hill the Captain handed him the AK-47 and said "Thanks." The pilot (1st Lt.) just looked at him and then went walking away muttering to himself.  A few minutes later he came back and asked to use my radio.

One thing the flight crews dreaded more than landing on NBD was the thought of having to spend the night up there! 30 minutes later another Huey flew in and picked up the crew, and also picked up the wrecked Huey under it and flew away toward Tay Ninh.  As far as we could see there were parts falling off the wrecked Huey. 

In the event the pilot or any of the crew is reading this - thank you again guys! You really have no idea how important the re-supply was to us - saluting you!

Larry; - LarryN1121@aol.com

I was on the ground there that night and I was not aware that any helicopters got in that night.  I often wondered where all the ammo, (especially the beehive rounds) came from.  Now I know --- thanks for the story and THANKS for the deliveries.  If it hadn't been for the beehive rounds, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be typing this right now.

By the way, that battle (Soui Cut) was "memorialized" in the last battle scene in the movie "Platoon".  Oliver Stone was also there that night as a grunt with Bravo Company 3rd of the 22nd Infantry.  He was hit and eventually medevac'd.   I think he caught the morning stage though.

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