Start-Up. Have you looked at the well-designed Web Site of the FAC Association? During the course of the SEA conflict, many hundreds of FACs worked Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos…I could estimate at least 30,000 FAC combat missions over the course of eight to ten years. Some individual FACs logged over 500 combat sorties! …And for the Rustics and Cambodia? I claim that we were personally closer to and identified more with the [Cambodian] people we were helping and their desperate plight to survive…this alone made a big difference in our contribution. Aside from the more direct ground support, reconnaissance, or air strikes, sometimes just being there made the difference. I recall several instances covering the evacuation of towns…thousands of displaced civilians walking on an open road leaving their red-tile homes that soon became fighting positions for the Khmer Rouge. Maybe it was the sometimes annoying and unavoidable noise of the OV-10 which both supported and deterred...and that could bring fire.

Language Training. You may not know this, but in the late 1960s at Nellis AFB (Las Vegas), 15 or 20 young USAF pilots were flying the new F-111A as Pilot/Weapon Systems Operators (PWSOs…radar, bombing, navigation). In 1970, while we had gained around 400 hours each in that capacity, because of the existing “controversial” nature of the F-111 (design, cost, and mostly politics), almost all of us were reassigned due to “lack of experience”. It so happened at the time that the USAF was wanting French-speaking pilots to become Forward Air Controllers (FACs) to work over Cambodia.

The group of us F-111 PWSOs were made “volunteers” for SEA. We were sent off en masse to French language school in Monterey, CA for six months, thence forwarded to Hurlburt Field to check out and train in either the O-2 Super Skymaster or the OV-10 Bronco to become FACs. (One artifact from the French schooling was a booklet of specific English-French vocabulary, published as Mac’s French FAC Facts, or Un Livre de Liaison Aérienne, June, 1971.)

We arrived in theater in 1971, mostly in Thailand as Rustic or Nail FACs. I am very happy to say that as far as I know, all of us of F-111 francophone vintage came back unscathed. Five of us shared a single day of fini-flights at Ubon on September, 21, 1972. Since then, we have had some losses (Bob “Slick” Andrews for one), but of that French-trained group that became Rustics, five of us are here at this final reunion (Jack Thompson, John Charlton, Lendy Edwards, Bill McAdams, and myself).

Cambodian Pilot Training. One major opportunity we had to help the Cambodians was in training young pilots in the ways, means, and tactics of a Forward Air Controller. At the request of the Cambodian Air Force (probably through Colonel Oum, our friend and ground commander), in the spring of 1972 we set up a fast-paced training program at Ubon. There were three classes of very new lieutenant pilots (likely of the T-28) who arrived at our base for two to four weeks each from March through July of that year. We handled logistics and developed and presented classroom presentations on navigation, map-reading, visual reconnaissance, safety procedures, obtaining target clearance, and organizing and controlling airstrikes. Everything was done in French, with significant help from our enlisted interpreters. After several days of academics and orientation in the OV-10 back seat, we took the rookies along for scheduled Rustic combat sorties over their country, where they saw (and became involved in) sometimes tense and very active situations with their compatriots on the ground. All of our French-trained instructor pilots were involved. The “graduates” of our quiet training program returned to take over the FAC mission, as long as they were able….

Clandestine Cross-Country. During July, 1972, a few of the Rustics from Ubon were treated to a C-47 flight to Phnom Penh and a helicopter visit to several cities. The Cambodian government appreciated what the Rustics were doing, but the U.S. would not approve Cambodian medals (after all, we were not really doing what we were doing). We were announced as “Swedish tourists”. Col Oum, Sam, and our Air Attaché (Mark Berent) hosted us and treated us like royalty. General So-Satto, the head of the Cambodian Air Force, personally gave me a small silver box embossed with a depiction of Angkor Wat. In the capital, I purchased a rolled-up “temple rubbing” of Angkor Wat for a few dollars. I had it framed, and the black and gold-painted artwork (about 3 ft by 7 ft) has been on the wall since 1972. During the UH-1 tree-level helicopter tour of the country (including an open door outfitted with machine gunner), we toured museums, climbed around overgrown jungle temples, ate shark fin soup, squab heads, breaded crab claws, and roast duck. The round-robin included stops in Kampong Cham, Kampong Thom, Siem Reap, Battambang, and Kampong Chhnang. We had been working with Col Oum and Sam regularly during FAC missions and finally were able to meet them in person. The honor and the gracious treatment were all about appreciation and humble thanks. They loved us, and we loved them.

Post-Flight. I returned home with a feeling of personal accomplishment, in spite of the frustrations of the war and the limited help we could offer to the Khmer people. My family said I was “different”. I think I was affected positively by the experiences, the pilots and friends I flew with, the interpreters who accompanied us, and especially the personality and the culture of those we did our best to protect. I brought back hundreds of photos, some noisy flight recordings, a few art pieces, a small silver box, and a large depiction of Angkor Wat. My tribute was to give my second son the middle name of “Thom”, after that town we supported almost daily.

Perhaps only for a few days, months, or years, we made a difference in the lives, hopes, and futures of many Cambodians, both then and in the U.S. since then.

And we made a difference in ourselves.

Don Mercer (Rustic 41, Sep 70-Sep 71)    back

Being assigned as a Rustic FAC was the most gratifying and rewarding, and also the most frustrating, and ultimately disappointing, job that I have ever experienced during the entirety of my life. Being able to develop relationships with several Cambodian ground commanders was unlike that experienced by most FACs.

The bonds forged with my fellow pilots, a few interpreters whom I both knew and a couple with whom I flew, those in intel, ground crews, and those Vietnamese who worked in our hootch were strong, with a number of those relationships carried to this day.

There are painful memories of pulling off target one morning after conducting airstrikes in support of Prey Totung in December 1970, a day before those troops were overrun, as with arriving on scene as the first FAC on station during the assault on Pochentong Airport at Papa Papa in the early morning hours that play, at times, on the back of my eyelids. My copilot, Larry Landtroop, on that mission over Phnom Penh, recently passed on May 23, which brought those memories once again to the forefront. Running convoy cover from Tan Chau, RVN, one night in conjunction with Black Pony FACs, only to see enemy RPGs hit an ammunition ship in the Mekong provided enough fireworks for a lifetime.

 There are other vivid memories - shaking Mike Vrablick's hand as he and Garry Eddy headed down to the flight line on September 30, 1970, when having only arrived in the Night Rustic hootch a few days earlier, only to have them never return. These and other tragic events were interspersed with great parties and travel throughout much of Southeast Asia on leaves, R&R, and to attend schools - Philippines, Australia, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Okinawa, Japan- with three diverts into Ubon AB, Thailand. My combat tour gave new definition to the term “bittersweet.”  That year was a roller coaster of both jubilation and despair unlike any other!

While not belaboring other downside experiences during my tour, one of my most gratifying experiences in my life was working in concert with many fellow Rustics from 1997 to 2012 in seeking and obtaining approval for numerous awards - long overdue, yet so well-deserved recognition - for fellow Rustic interpreters who are among my heroes, as with two intelligence officers, and other fellow pilots. Working with Jim Gabel, for whom I have the utmost respect, in co-editing Bill Sleigh’s book was a most memorable experience.

 My return to Cambodia in March 1999 was a phenomenal experience. I met a man at Angkor Wat who had been assigned to the brigade at KPC, as a radio operator, when Lanny Trapp and his backseater were shot down; and he related events of that day. I also, with the great assistance provided by Sue Lloyd of the House of Hope, was able to visit Prey Totung, Skoun, and Tang Kouk, where I was introduced to a man, age of 44, who was 14 on October 1, 1970. He not only related his having witnessed the shootdown of Garry Eddy and Mike Vrablick; but he accompanied Sue, our driver, and one other Cambodian as we rode in a small Toyota sedan across rice paddy dikes, and then hiked to the very area where their aircraft had come to rest, next to a small brick schoolhouse that had been totally destroyed by Khmer Rouge, with bricks still strewn all around the area.

 The above is but a nutshell of what having been a Rustic has meant to me throughout my life. To say that year was formative and memorable is an epic understatement. I dare say that seldom has a day passed in my life that some current event, some smell, taste, some feeling, sound, or sight, some friend’s - a fellow combatant’s - illness or death, has not brought some memory of that year in combat to the forefront of my brain.

 The accomplishments of the Rustic FAC Association have been numerous; and I believe those successes have improved both my life, as with many other Rustics and their family members. From the Inception of the FAC Association in 2000, many lives have been changed for the better, in my opinion. Under the leadership of Claude Newland and Lendy Edwards, with capable assistance from many others such as Doug Aitken and Jim Reese, to name but two extraordinary men, this organization has flourished. The published books have been noteworthy additions to history, as, after all, it has been said that if occurrences are not written down, they may as well not have happened.

 As I sit and write these brief thoughts, which do not give nearly what is due to those who have kept our Association alive, I would be remiss if I did not pay homage to every Rustic pilot, interpreter, and our entire support network, along with AC-119, AC-130, A-37, F-100, F-4, F-105, AC-47, EC-121, and so many other American, Cambodian, and Vietnamese aircrews and support personnel, as with ground troops, who may well have removed an enemy from the field of combat who may have - had that not occurred - taken my life. I have no doubt that I may well owe my life to someone else, a fellow Rustic or another, who may read this.

 That includes many in other services, and especially those in the 1st Air Cav, 11th ACR, and others who were involved in the Cambodia Incursion during May and June of 1970.  While I experienced a number of rocket and mortar attacks at Bien Hoa during my tour - one in which I ran out the door of my hootch to screams to find an enlisted man who had a limb blown off - I have no doubt that far more attacks would have been experienced had it not been for that Incursion and destruction of enemy weapons’ caches at that time.

 I hate to see it come to an end with this final reunion, as I have decided for several reasons not to attend, not the least of which was a skiing accident in 2004 with a subsequent stroke.  However, I am hopeful that some form of newsletter may be in the offing, if only once every six months or year, so that we may have a form of keeping in touch with others, providing well wishes to those who experience health setbacks, and condolences to family members as we pass.

Thanks to all for the immense efforts extended by so many over the last almost three decades to continue our legacy!  It is a unique honor to have been a Rustic Forward Air Controller and to have served our nation in that capacity!

I am going to pass on providing detailed input, as to what it means to me to have been a Rustic. I simply cannot give all my thoughts, emotions, experiences, and resultant opinions their rightful due in a one-page constraint. Additionally, I doubt that many want to hear some of my opinions on our involvement in SEA, and our national policies that have prompted the US, our beloved nation, to remain at war throughout much of my lifetime. 

Suffice it to say, my combat missions flown as a Night Rustic forever changed my life, some for the better with wonderful bonds formed and far too much for the worse, on which I will not elaborate other than for one sentence. On that count, I certainly hold my service in far higher regard than do most of the folks whom I have encountered at the Veterans Administration.

However, I have no regrets about having volunteered for duty in SEA, having selected FAC as my first operational assignment, and having volunteered for the operation in Cambodia as a French interpreter, as Clint Murphy had flown up to Cam Ranh Bay AB to interview me when I was in the 3-day Theater Indoctrination School there. I never knew that any organization, let alone the Air Force, had such low standards to become an interpreter. But then, those were desperate times; and my five years of French in high school and college apparently qualified.   

I did my duty in SEA, as I was raised and schooled to perform it. And I am proud to count among my friends, men who did likewise, not only as Rustics but in many other capacities during the war given that I graduated from Virginia Military Institute. With this said, I am disappointed in the extreme that our nation's so-called leaders have not learned much, in my qualified opinion, from all that occurred in Southeast Asia. As has been said, if we do not learn from history, we are doomed to repeat it. 

Thus, in the final analysis, my service as a Rustic is much of a mixed bag. I do my best to keep the good times at the forefront and to keep the bad in the rear. Some days I am more successful than on others.   

Robert Montmarquet (Rustic G, Sep 70-Oct 71)    back

I entered the United States Air Force at 18 years old as an Airman Basic. Upon completing Aircraft Systems Mechanic School, I realized I may have made a mistake. It just was not interesting or challenging. Getting orders for Tan Son Nhut RVN did nothing to change that opinion. Fortunately, arriving at Tan Son Nhut AFB, RVN, I was quickly recruited into the Rustics. The Rustics gave me an opportunity to use every skill I had, and learn so many more. I immediately felt I was fully engaged, and appreciated. My skills were improved, tested and strained every day. It was great. I was working with the best people and I knew I was really “making a difference”. By the way, for an enlisted man, Air Crew status and living in air-conditioned quarters was not hard to take.

I had one TDY for 90 days to the Sundogs in Tay Ninh East, flying in O-1A Bird Dogs. They too were an outstanding group. But returning to the Rustics was like a home coming. Knowing how we helped the Cambodians every day meant everything to me at that time. Knowing so many friends and pilots later became so successful with key roles in the USAF has continued to be a source of pride.

Attending an air show many years later, my grandson noticed an O-2 on the tarmac. He approached the pilot and mentioned that his “Papa” had flown in one in Cambodia. My grandson was assured that was not possible. My son then assured the pilot that I was a Rustic flying in O-2’s and OV-10’s in Cambodia. The pilot then told my grandson to never disrespect his grandfather. The FAC flew lower and slower than anyone else and I doubted, after that experience, if I feared much of anything. That was certainly an over statement, but it was a very proud moment. The sense of pride working with the Rustics is, to this day, overwhelming.

Other than raising a family, being a Rustic was the most fulfilling job I’ve ever had. Nothing else even comes close. When asked where I served, the simple reply is always “I was a Rustic”.

Claude Newland (Rustic 19, Aug 70-May 71)    back

My nine months as a Rustic was the most memorable nine months of my 20-year Air Force career. And that is coming from a guy who later flew the F-4 for nine years.

When graduating from pilot training, I desperately wanted one of our three fighter assignments. That was not to be. Instead, I was happy to get one of our two OV-10s. I wanted to get into the “action” in Vietnam. In retrospect, I am convinced that being a FAC was so much better. Our mission was much more complex, demanding, and rewarding. We did everything fighters did, plus a lot, lot more. We came to understand and feel the daily pulse of the war being fought below us.

When the Rustics were formed in June 1970, I had just become combat qualified in the OV-10 as a rookie Issue FAC at Cu Chi AB in III Corps. However, to my chagrin, my flying opportunities almost immediately began to dwindle and I was alarmed. President Nixon’s May-June 1970 incursion into Cambodia meant that enemy activity in III Corps would become almost negligible for some time. Simultaneously, this new “Rustic” outfit at Bien Hoa Air Base was taking some of our aircraft for a classified mission and they were looking for pilots. I immediately volunteered to join the Rustics. Several other Issue FACs, Jim Nuber and Greg Freix, soon followed.

My first mission into Cambodia was an eye opener. French-speaking pilot Lou Courrier was in my backseat showing me the ropes. Remarkably, that very aircraft (tail number 67-14626), is now proudly on display in the Hurlburt Field airpark in Florida.

What was my first impression of Cambodia? I was shocked at the beauty of Cambodia’s countryside. Unlike Vietnam, there were still only a few signs of the ravages war. Unfortunately, that would change over time as the war dragged on.

It didn’t take long to realize that the Rustics were a special unit with a special calling. Uncommon comradery was forged between our Rustic pilots, interpreters, crew chiefs, intel troops, and especially the Cambodian patriots who we were supporting. The Cambodian officers and enlisted personnel who came monthly to Bien Hoa to fly in our backseats brought the war home to us on a very personal level. We all became a binding force--committed to doing our best to save Cambodia. Not surprisingly, many enduring friendships were formed that have withstood the test of time.

Little did I know that 25 years later it would dawn on me that since I lived near Ft Walton Beach, Florida, perhaps it was up to me to see if the Rustics wanted to have a reunion. The rest is history. Bill Sleigh, Lendy Edwards, Don Echelberger, Jim Reese, Sy Gaskill, and Doug Aitken were part of crew that made it happen.

I will never forget our first reunion in September 1997. What an experience it was to see the exuberance and affection shown by the 160+ fellow Rustics and guests as they greeted those whom they hadn’t seen in over 25 years. Among our special guests were our dear friends Col Lieou Phin Oum and Lt Col Kohn Om who were able to emigrate with their families to the United States and become American citizens.

The wives were especially astounded as they witnessed with glee the unabashed shouts of merriment and chest bumping that occurred as their husbands greeted their old roommates and friends. Soon, there was not a stranger in the room.

I am thankful for all the things that have taken place as a result of our getting back together. Foremost, the Rustics enthusiastically stepped up to write their comprehensive unit history and explained what we were charged to do. The resulting coffee-table hardbound 468-page book helped most of us, including myself, better understand the big picture of who we were, why we were there, and helped us get to know many other Rustics who were part of the team.

Many have told me that our reunions and efforts to record our history have had a very cathartic and positive impact on their lives. The Southeast Asia conflict was a divisive time for our nation, and afterwards we all had to find our own peace as we wrestled with the outcome.

The Rustics are especially grateful for Don Mercer who worked diligently years later to ensure that many unsung Rustic heroes, especially our support personnel and interpreters, received the overdue recognition and medals they deserved for their acts of courage and valor on the field of battle. “Thank you, Don.”    

Another memorable occasion occurred when a group of 38 Rustics and their wives returned to Cambodia in 2000. Since then, the members of the Rustic FAC Association have annually supported various charitable efforts in Kompong Cham, where “a little goes a long way.”

We were all so young and exuberant when we went to Southeast Asia in 1970-1973. Now I think we are entering our golden years. None-the-less, we are blessed to have so many Rustic memories and friends. What a gift. Hmmm…maybe it’s time to check in with some of my buds who I haven’t heard from in a while. Cleared Hot!

Steve Peffer (Rustic O-2 Crew Chief, Dec 70-Feb 71)     back

I joined the Rustics in Nov. 2012 and went to my very first Rustic Reunion. I wanted to be involved over these past few years however it didn’t go that way at all. I guess God had another plan.

I’ve truly only felt like a Rustic when I’ve emailed, phoned, or Skyped Bob Blair in the last 5 years, as we were part of the proud “Aunt Tilly’s Boys” at Binh Thuy AB Vietnam; there was always comradery and support. After 46+ years of not seeing my old friend, I’m finally going to see him once again on Oct. 19^th, 2017 at approximately 10:30 pm, God willing. I know myself pretty good and I’m sure emotions will be of great joy as Bob Blair is a true friend.

When I first returned from my tour in Vietnam my family had welcome arms, however in hindsight it was short lived. I had a strong sense of bring underappreciated. I didn’t say anything to anybody as I didn’t want to offend people in general. In my mind I truly had some of the greatest experiences of my life in Vietnam. I felt no one really cared less what I had been through. It was a strange time, and one I needed to get through and work out by myself internally.

It never crossed my mind for some reason to try and seek out buddies that I hung out with in Vietnam. No doubt the number one group of airmen that came into my mind on several occasions happened to be the Rustics. This is where I had the best memories, the most fun, and the most liquor I’ve ever drank in my life. This could be a book in itself, enough said.

Moving on to my final words about how I felt being a Rustic. I’m still in Binh Thuy, it’s late May – early June 1971 and I was lucky enough to get picked to fly one mission in a Cessna A-37 Dragonfly. I can remember most of my drinking buddies were crying in their beer about me getting to be the chosen one. It was unbelievable; it will always be the flight of my life and one I’ll never forget. The anticipation, the take-off, the views, the G-force, and of course, the stars I saw before almost passing out before leveling off after a low pass drop of our ordinance. Do you think I trusted the pilot with my life? Then he asked if I want to take the stick. Well, I didn’t stutter and said of course! At that instant, I knew this was a pivotal moment in my life, and it was. I’ve never held a stick of a moving Jet aircraft since that day. The flight back to Binh Thuy AB was nothing less than spectacular. The pilot’s name is a mystery to this day. . . I’d sure like to meet him once again, talk, and shake his hand.

Unfortunately, and without much notice, the next month I found myself abruptly transferred to the 19^th TASS Da Nang AB 0-2 flight line for several weeks, then on to Phan Rang AB. It was a while before I found out that our Rustic Binh Thuy Group had been scattered all over several bases in Vietnam. I caught my “Freedom Bird” at Phan Rang and came home to California.

A tribute to my father George E. Peffer, a Flying Tiger with the 69^th D.R.S. 14^th Air Force, “The Greatest Generation is available at: http://www.flyingtigers69thdrs.com/

Jim Reese (Rustic 57, Nov 70-Apr 71)    back

Many of us have observed that our combat tour was the “best” or most “rewarding” or “most important” assignment/experience we had in the Air Force. Indeed, some might say “in our life.” What follows are a couple of thoughts as to why I think this is true.

At the Air Force Academy their attempt to thoroughly brain wash us was completely successful. By the time I graduated not only did I want to be a pilot but I wanted to go to Vietnam to fight (but hopefully not die) for my country. In pilot training like many of us I was Fighter-FAC all the way. If FAC, I wanted the OV-10 because of the higher speed, more Gs and armaments. Due to the vagaries of the AF assignment process our class had only two fighters (F-100s) and two OV-10s plus a number of O-2s. I picked 5^th and luckily the top guy wanted C-141s so I was really happy to get the last OV-10.

I arrived at Cam Ranh Bay in April 1970. As far as I know, we had no choice of end assignment. When they sent me to be a Helix FAC for the 20 TASS up in I Corps that was fine with me. During my checkout I learned about ROE and, perhaps just as important, that the guiding principle that informed all operations (FAC and US Army Americal Division tactics) was to minimize US casualties. I learned about Vietnamization; a Nixon administration term meant to achieve peace with honor and get Nixon reelected. Kind of the opposite of taking the fight to those bloody communists.

Initially, that was okay. They gave me a bag with 5-6 maps. I flew with an IP several times to learn the AO. How to fly the OV-10 with four rocket pods and a (small) center line tank. How not to mistakenly pickle off a whole pod while intending to fire a single rocket (did that twice). How to use all those radios to coordinate with all those different people. But soon the pace of the action became (not boring exactly but) predictable. I was at Chu Lai until just before Christmas. I figure I flew 200 missions (almost 500 hours) and put in about 35 airstrikes. The rest was VRing triple canopy jungle. Almost every strike was a fragged tree-buster. I did have one mission where elements of the 11^th Brigade (accidentally) came into contact with the enemy. On that one mission I used all of the training and experience I had accumulated up to then. Directed artillery on FM. Coordinated a Cobra attack team on VHF. Even put in an airstrike on UHF. A very short-lived highlight. I was restless.

I had come to understand early in my time at Chu Lai that there were some FACs flying missions that were confidential. Steve Canyon was one of those: Few details were known but I didn’t want to fly O-1s. By November another possibility arose. As directed by Congress we had pulled out all US Army troops from Cambodia that spring. But we had pushed the communists into direct and deadly contact with the Cambodian Army. And we would not abandon our allies so we had begun flying OV-10 FAC missions in Cambodia. If I recall accurately Doug Hellwig was a Helix FAC. He found out about the Rustics and decided to join them a few weeks before I did. Doug told us the Rustics needed more FACs and the flying was great. By that time, I didn’t need much persuasion so I volunteered and was accepted. (Chris Polk would follow about a month later.)

I reported to the 19 TASS Rustics a couple of days before Christmas. My initial experience at Bien Hoa confirmed I had made the right decision. The Ops Officer told me I would be flying with a back seater, handed me my map bag (100+ maps), said the AO is the country of Cambodia and Phnom Penh is about 100 miles WNW, and wished me a good first flight. To say the Rustic experience was different would be a vast understatement. Before I DEROSed in mid-April, I would fly 56 missions (about 280 hours) and direct about 120 airstrikes. To say it another way I put in about four times the TACAIR in about a quarter of the missions I had flown as a Helix. And the vast majority were in direct support of Cambodian Army ground troops. At the time this did not seem like a big deal. This is what I was trained to do and my experience lent itself to this endeavor. Looking back, I am amazed at the trust, literally life and death, they put in a 24-year-old first lieutenant.

I wound up spending 20 years in the Air Force. I flew airplanes that went faster and higher and that carried missiles and nuclear weapons. I was assigned to bases in Texas, California, India (the US Embassy), North Dakota and Washington, DC (the Pentagon). I liked every assignment I ever had (my wife might not agree). But if you judge it by the amount of personal responsibility over the well-being of other human beings; by the deep relationships that would develop and last for decades with like-minded back seaters and FACs; by the awesome knowledge of significant value added after a mission or day at the office; by the deep conviction that what I was doing might affect in a positive way the future prospects for a unit, an army, a nation … then you might find yourself thinking, as I have, that my assignment with the Rustics was the highlight of my Air Force career.

DUTY. I had a strong feeling during pilot training that I had a duty to participate in the war in Vietnam. (Yes, I was brainwashed during my years at the Air Force Academy.) I felt like I owed it to the guys who had gone before me and risked their lives. Duty to country was there too but the stronger focus was duty to my fellow military men. To shun my duty was to minimize their efforts. “Vietnamization” had begun so the first part of my year (flying in support of the Americal Division in I Corps) was not particularly satisfying. In contrast, flying with the Rustics was everything I had hoped it would be. The mission was righteous. The action was plentiful. I did my duty.

CAMARADERIE. There’s nothing like shared adversity to bring you close to those you work with. Accordingly, I feel an attachment to my classmates from the Air Force Academy. But I feel much closer to those who shared the risks and rewards of flying in combat. As I mentioned in our first Rustic book, this combat tour was the highlight of my career (which is saying something since I spent another 18 years in the Air Force and did some pretty cool things). When you meet a fellow Rustic, you know exactly what that man did for, and with you, and the Cambodians we fought for. It’s an admiration and respect that are permanently engraved on my soul.

GRATITUDE. In case you weren’t paying attention, Vietnam was not our country’s last war. Based on my experience as a Rustic I have a much better appreciation for what all those men and women in the wars since have faced in their own combat “opportunities.” I am so grateful (and so should this country) that there are still those who are willing to put it all on the line when the call comes. I am grateful to be living in the United States of America.

PERSPECTIVE. Life brings many challenges. Some face life-threatening disease or the loss of a parent, child, or spouse. There are career setbacks, money problems, drugs, and political disappointments. But I don’t think any of us can comprehend what it’s like to lose your country. We haven’t been invaded, let alone conquered. We’ve never had to give up everything to escape physical and political oppression, as our dear Cambodian friends have had to endure. As I face the challenges in my own life I try to look at the big picture and consider how fortunate I really am.

Jon Safley (Rustic 19, Mar 72-Dec 72)    back

Being a Rustic means more and more to me every year. As I look back, it’s hard to believe that the Air Force leaders would give a bunch of young airmen the responsibilities we were given as Rustics. But they did, and we showed them “how to do it right.” 

What has being a Rustic meant to me? First, life-long friends. Second, being a proud alum of one of, if not, the best FAC unit in SEA. In the grander scheme of things, being a Rustic “turbocharged” my flying and decision-making skills which helped me during the rest of my Air Force career. When I returned to the US following my Rustic tour, I knew I could fly just about any aircraft or mission the Air Force threw my way. After another tour in the EC-121 which sucked, I spent the “rated supp” as an instructor at SOS, following Doug Aitken as the section commander in D-47. Following that I went to F-111s. From oil-slinging piston engines in the ancient “Connie” to a highly sophisticated, go-fast machine that hugged the terrain as it ingresses to the target. My Rustic experience gave me the confidence and skills to do well as an “Aardvark driver” during our two tours at RAF Upper Heyford and also at American Airlines. 

To say I am proud to be a Rustic is a gross understatement. It was a great mission, flown by a great group of dedicated, young aviators and interpreters who, after all these years, still know how to “raise a glass” and yet continue to respect and support our fellow Cambodian compatriots and each other.

Ron Van Kirk (Rustic 08, Jul 71-Jun 72)    back

I have always been a quiet, unassuming individual. In a crowd, you usually do not know I am there. When I graduated from pilot training, the OV-10 was my first choice. One of the best decisions I have made in my life. I was in the first UPT class to have 4 weeks cut off of the program, expediting pilots through training. As a result, we lost almost 50% of our starting class, so I was a survivor. I was expedited through Fairchild (winter survival), then Florida (water survival), then OV-10 training at Hurlburt. 10 days later I departed for SEA from Travis AFB. I was going to possibly die with a 45 day leave balance…but no time to relax.

Arriving at Cam Rahn Bay, some commander took a look at my data and explained that since I had taken French in high school, I was now qualified to be an interpreter. Since they needed French speaking pilots for Cambodia in the Rustics, I was off to Bien Hoa in June. Experienced my first “Hail and Farewell” party and learned how long 346 days sounded. I was quickly qualified/combat certified and on my very first solo mission was called into a TIC with French speakers. I managed to pull it off. They lived and I was again a survivor. On landing, I wrote and requested Mom send me a petite Larousse dictionary and a verb wheel – you never know. Turned out most of the words I needed were not in a civilian dictionary….

In September, I had barely 90 days in-country, was still a lowly 2^nd Lt., and Major Clifford visited late one evening and suggested I be one of the 3 single volunteers he needed – to go ground FAC. I did not know at the time that 2 of the 3 were not expected to come back – but all 3 did. One got dropped into a mine field after dark as a final hurdle – that was me. But I made it – walked out. I was again a survivor. The day-today missions to help save the Cambodians was varied – sometimes dull, sometimes fraught with challenge. But for the first time I was with a like-minded team of diverse individuals that functioned with a single purpose and would willingly risk their life to save one another. The opportunity to work for a noble goal with brave and valiant aviators is something you do not experience very often. The officers and enlisted worked and lived together with dedication and respect, and functioned like a well-oiled machine. It was exceptional. It would never happen again.

We had a mixture of fun and fear, victory and defeat, but became a band of brothers. Once I DEROS’s back to my IP position, and thru my following 8 years in the service I did not see any of those guys again. Then after I was married to a woman who did not know me when I was in the Air Force, and some 20 years had passed, I got an unexpected call from Doug Aitken, asking for my extensive collection of pictures and movies from SEA. There was a plan to write a book and they needed some pictures – off went the collection.

Then there was the invite to the first Rustic Reunion – in Ft. Walton Beach. Had to go! My wife, Janette got a full exposure, basically overnight, to the mission in Cambodia and the players that were involved, although some of their rough edges had been worn off a bit over time. That led to the return trip to Cambodia in 2000. The band of brothers and extended family picked up where they had left off – interfacing as if time had not passed. Testament to the past, and the bond. The stories, the personalities – the friendships that were added or amplified. Never happened previously – and has not since. Once in a lifetime, a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away – the force was strong, and we were all survivors.

Still cannot speak French, but I still have the verb wheel, petite Larousse and the memories. Can no longer fit in the OV-10, but if I close my eyes, I am still there any time. Being a Rustic…………invaluable, worth every minute!

Tom Wolford (Rustic Alpha, Issue 10 Xray, Jul 70–Aug 71)z

Of all the job I have ever had, I have never felt the satisfaction that I got working with the Rustic FACs. I felt we were doing our very best to help people who really needed it.

Awards & Decorations Belatedly Awarded    BACK

 25 awards and decorations were belatedly approved by the Air Force based on the tireless submissions of Don Mercer, Rustic 41. Well done, Don!

Rustics Interred at Arlington National Cemetery

Ron J. Dandeneau, R-Foxtrot

James A. Gabel, R-Bravo (Intel), & wife Sally Gabel

Chris Polk, R-56

Wayne R. St. John, R-08 & N 

 

The Reunion -- by Rachel Firth, adapted by Lendy Edwards     BACK

   Autumn leaves, rustling together to the appointed place, the old warriors come. Like pilgrims, drifting across the land they love. Where they meet is still important...That they meet-- that's even more. Greetings across a parking lot. Hands reach out and arms draw friends close. Embraces, that as young men and women they were too uncomfortable to give, too shy to accept so lovingly.

   But deep, within these Indian Summer days they have reached a greater understanding of life and love. The shells holding their souls are weaker now, but hearts and minds grow vigorous remembering. On a table someone spreads old photographs; a test of recollection. And friendly laughter echoes at shocks of hair gone gray or white, or merely gone. The rugged, slender bodies lost forever. Yet they no longer need to prove their strength or beauty. Some are now sustained by one of "medicines miracles," And even in this fact they manage to find humor.

    The spouses, all of those who waited, all those who loved them, have watched the changes take place. Now, they observe and listen, and smile at each other; as glad to be together again. Talk turns to old times, trips to distant places and other adventures. Stories are told and told again, reweaving the threadbare fabric of the past. Mending one more time the banner of their youth.

    Dead comrades, hearing their names spoken, wanting to share in this time, if only in spirit, move silently among them. Their presence is felt and smiles appear beneath misty eyes. Each, in his own way, may wonder who will be absent another year.

    The room grows quiet for a time. Suddenly an ember flames to life. Another memory burns. The talk may turn to other times and other people, and of futility. So, this is how it goes. The past is so much the present. In their memories, the allegiances, the speeches, and the prayers, one cannot help but hear the deep eternal love of country and fellow man they will forever share.

    Finally, it is time to leave. Much too soon to set aside this little piece of yesterday, but the past cannot be held too long, for it is fragile. They say "Farewell...We hope to see you again, God willing," breathing silent prayers for one another. Each keeping a little of the others with them forever.

2000 -- The Rustic FAC Association incorporated

2026 -- The Rustic FAC Association closed it's hanger doors.