May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020
Stan was an old soul the first time we met at a place called Dak To, Vietnam. Dak To, scene to some of the bloodiest and most dangerous battles of the entire war. He was only a very few years older than me but his presence was much larger. Stan was an Army Aviator like me, but a first Lieutenant not a Warrant Officer as I was. We flew together occasionally until he was assigned to fly the Brigade Commander, a General, and then we flew together every day along with our great crew chief Walter Tanaka. Since I was a more senior pilot than Stan--I was near the end of my tour and Stan was just beginning his--I had to feel him out. It was something all the pilots did with newer pilots. You had to see if we could trust them not to kill us while flying. Flying is pretty unforgiving. The smallest mistakes can mean the end of your career, or worse, your life. Flying in combat, as we did many hours each day and night, is so much worse. You have to depend on skill, tactics, bravery and heart. Stan had this in abundance.
Not one single pilot, crew member, maintenance or support staff held more respect than Stan. This for the entire history of the Casper Platoon. Stan stayed in Vietnam for so long, first as a pilot and then as our commander and pilot, that no Casper touched as many lives as Stan.
I left Vietnam before Stan became our commander. As each of us did we returned home, either to stay in the military or to rejoin civilian life, and put the war behind us. We were certainly not welcomed when we returned home. For each of us, including Stan, the war left a profound and indelible stain on our lives.
I did not see Stan again until the July fourth weekend of 2003 in Orlando Florida at the Casper Platoon's second reunion. Stan arrived with Clint, I believe, his young son. I brought my young son, Skyler, who was just 13 then. Stan was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, respect and honor his former crews and subordinates showed him. We crowded in on him as if he were a celebrity or royalty. To us, Stan was more than this. It was such an uplifting time being with Stan again, I will never forget that time.
Over the next decade and a half, I got to spend a lot more time at our reunions with Stan. As he opened up, Stan felt that he had not been fair to his platoon. He told me on many occasions, he wished that he had put us all in for a lot more medals. While commanding us, Stan took our heroism as part of our Job. When we were called, Stan knew his men would come. No hesitation. Ready to lay down our lives for each other and for the men we supported in the 173d Airborne Brigade. We were just doing our job. When we talked, Stan told me that the flying in combat we did was unheralded. Now he regretted not seeing us receive medals that other units showered on their pilots and crew. I know this haunted him. I suspect to his last breath. He would say to me every year at our reunion, "Greene, we saw some shit, didn't we." We did Stan and there is no person I would rather have been with in that time than you, Stan.
Not one single pilot, crew member, maintenance or support staff held more respect than Stan. This for the entire history of the Casper Platoon. Stan stayed in Vietnam for so long, first as a pilot and then as our commander and pilot, that no Casper touched as many lives as Stan.
I left Vietnam before Stan became our commander. As each of us did we returned home, either to stay in the military or to rejoin civilian life, and put the war behind us. We were certainly not welcomed when we returned home. For each of us, including Stan, the war left a profound and indelible stain on our lives.
I did not see Stan again until the July fourth weekend of 2003 in Orlando Florida at the Casper Platoon's second reunion. Stan arrived with Clint, I believe, his young son. I brought my young son, Skyler, who was just 13 then. Stan was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love, respect and honor his former crews and subordinates showed him. We crowded in on him as if he were a celebrity or royalty. To us, Stan was more than this. It was such an uplifting time being with Stan again, I will never forget that time.
Over the next decade and a half, I got to spend a lot more time at our reunions with Stan. As he opened up, Stan felt that he had not been fair to his platoon. He told me on many occasions, he wished that he had put us all in for a lot more medals. While commanding us, Stan took our heroism as part of our Job. When we were called, Stan knew his men would come. No hesitation. Ready to lay down our lives for each other and for the men we supported in the 173d Airborne Brigade. We were just doing our job. When we talked, Stan told me that the flying in combat we did was unheralded. Now he regretted not seeing us receive medals that other units showered on their pilots and crew. I know this haunted him. I suspect to his last breath. He would say to me every year at our reunion, "Greene, we saw some shit, didn't we." We did Stan and there is no person I would rather have been with in that time than you, Stan.