| Lloyd Newell |
| Last updated: 02/03/06 |
| Born August 15, 1948 in Pasadena, California. My mother was 34 and my father was 41 at the time of my birth, I was their first child for the both of them.
I attended school in the Pasadena School System. I attended 4 different elementary schools, flunked 1st grade, went to Eliot Jr. High and graduated in the top 1/3 of my class from John Muir High School in June 1967 with a GPA of 2.5. The main reason it was so high I took a lot of auto shop and printing classes and always got A’s. I come from a linage of people that were working class people. Our family always seemed to be struggling trying to make ends meet. But Mom and Dad always kept a roof over our heads and food on the table. It would be fair to say our family was low middle class economically speaking. But we never as kids felt this, much to the credit of Mom and Dad. After high school I had no set plans or any idea what I wanted to do with my life. Collage was out of the question since my folks didn’t have the money and I didn’t have the grades to get a scholarship. Since I had strong back ground in auto repairs, I went to work for a service station. It would do until I figured things out and got my head together. That all changed. On February 5, 1969 I reported to 1034 S. Broadway, in Los Angeles at the induction center. I was drafted, and by mid afternoon on was on a bus headed for Ft. Ord, California for basic training. As many of you might remember, we were given a series of tests. Guess I did well, I was offered the chance to go to 1 year of prep school then to West Point, or OCS, or Platoon sergeant school. At the ripe old age of 20 I was looking at a 6-10 year obligation if I went to any of these schools, I said No. I knew I didn’t want to be a 11B with a one way ticket to Nam. So there were about 50 classes the army offered that required 3 years. So I saw the offer helicopter mechanic school, 67A10, so I signed. After basic it was Mother Rucker. I hated the place. One day while awaiting further orders, about 30 of us were called out of formation and taken inside. They offered all of us ATC school. Hell, I was thinking these were the guys on the ramp with flags guiding the aircraft. I asked just one question--were is the school--told me at Kessler AFB, I signed. Well ATC school was a lot more than flags and I really enjoyed the school. Started in mid May 1969 on “C” shift and graduated mid August 1969. Spent my 21st birthday on the road from Kessler to Hunter AAF for GCA school. GCA school was great. I was TDY so no details. The living quarters were to be the best I would have while in the army. Still remember seeing my first fire fly while out at the tact site at night between practice GCA. Also remember the instructor pilots would being in their student and the student pilots would have paint on their left boot a big “L” and a big “R” on there right. Graduated in mid September 1969, was given travel time and leave before reporting to Oakland Army Base in the third week in October. Arrived at Ben Wa? At night. As the hatch was open, in came that smell of Nam, a smell that would not go away for many a day. I was taken to the 90th Replacement, then reassigned to the 165 Combat Aviation Group. At group they assigned me to Can Tho in the tower. Can Tho was and is in the Mekong Delta, is flat, hot and humid. I was to be there for the next 23 months. Compared to some of the bios of others, my duty seems light weight. But I had may share of shit I will never forget, nor fully recover from. More than once I was in the tower at night when Charlie would start shelling the airfield. Since the tower was the tallest thing for miles, it was SOP for the VC to zero in their tubes using the tower as a target. No place to hid under while in the tower cab. Just ride it out and hope and pray for the best. Can Tho was a very busy airfield. There was 2 companies of slicks and their gunships, 191st and 162nd AHC. The 235th AWC with their Cobras, 271st with CH-47s, the C/16 CAV with Loaches and Snakes. Also the fixed wings, 244th with Mohawks, the 334? RR with their U-6s, and the 221st with their Birddogs. Add to that Air American was stationed at Can Tho. They flew mostly Porters and Volpars, but they also had C-7s, C-123s, C-45s, and C-46s. The AF flew a lot of sorties with C-7s, 123, and 130s. Throw in all the transit traffic we had and the VNAF, made life interesting. I used to get bored so I would go flying at night with the firefly slick we had flying night cover. Had several, shall we say interesting times, while flying night cover. Boy was I ever glad to have not become a 67A10. You door gunners sure must have big brass balls! Not everyday in the tower was good, in fact looking back not many were. There were many days flights would go out, and not everyone came back or shot to shit with wounded and dead. I can’t count the times I called the dispensary to roll out to the flight line. At least twice a week, more if needed, the ambulance would come out from graves registration with body bags of the those going home. The aircraft that was to take them to Saigon or wherever these bodies were to go, would backup to the base of the tower. Out of sight to everyone, except myself and any others who were in the tower cab, the dead were loaded on board. The worst of it was yet to come. In the afternoon of March 17, 1971, the worst thing that could happen to a controller took place, a midair. Darkhorse 32 (DH32) was giving a check ride in a Cobra and was in closed traffic doing touch and gos and autorotation to west end of the runway. The west end had just been paved. The middle section of the runway was a jagged mess of M-8 matting that had been ripped up, with the eastern part of the runway still having M-8 matting. 93R, a Air America Porter, reported 5 miles west for landing, requested straight in for landing. He was given a straight in and told to report a 2 mile final. 93R reported 2 mile final, only problem was he was on ¼ mile final when he reported in, with the sun at his back, and we could not see him from the tower. At the same time DH32, who had stared a autorotation was asked if he saw the Air America and 93R was asked if he saw the Cobra. Both answered negative. DH32 and 93R were very close and DH 32 was told to go around. DH 32 stopped the autorotation and was in a climbing left turn when he struck and cut the Porter in half with his rotor blades. The exploding JP 4 on both craft killed everyone on board 93R with one body found that was cut in half by the rotor blades of the Snake. I was later to learn that both pilots on the Cobra survived the midair, only to be burned to death on the ground. People on the ground tried to get to them, however, the exploding ordnance and the lack of functioning fire exhausters, prevented their rescue. From the get go, the blame was put on the two of us in the tower. However, one WO Stanley, who was the primary accident investigator save our ass. Of course I did not learn this until 5 years ago. The main cause was placed on the Air America for not reporting 2 mile final, the 2 of us controllers were said to have done all we could have done given the circumstances. I had nightmares and hardly slept for days, weeks. Given no help what so ever, except I was told to suck it up, I was back to work in the tower within 36 hours of the midair. I was only 22 years old. So back to work I went and buried my memories of the midair. I was to leave Nam and ETS on September 18, 1971. And so I did. A ship without a rudder. It is best I stop and take my meds. |
| Can Tho Tower, RVN
345th A.D.D. October 27, 1969 - September 18, 1971 |
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