Excellent video brought to my attention by our Silver Spur President, John “Waldo” Pepper:
Excellent video brought to my attention by our Silver Spur President, John “Waldo” Pepper:
In Remembrance of fellow Silver Spurs Ron & Jim Dostal, who perished years after their service to our nation during the Vietnam war. Here is to the Dostal brothers, American patriots! – Bear
The original video had music which was deleted by YouTube IN 2018 without notification. This is the revised version of John’s pictures & video WITHOUT music!
Since putting together John’s video, he has provided this newspaper article which featured the Dostal brothers:
2 Jun 2022:
I’m sorry to report that John passed away on April 7, 2022. He will be missed by his fellow Spurs and is now reunited with his brothers Ron & Jim. – Bear
John Roger Dostal
August 17, 1948 – April 7, 2022
https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/richmond-va/john-dostal-10701752
14 October 2016:
Bear,
First, let me say thank you for the awesome website you’ve built. My name is Charles Bottom and I was a member of A Trp, 3/17 AC, 1970-1971, Dian, Quan Loi, and Lai Khe.
I noticed my name, and a couple others I can think of do not appear on the roster. I would, and I believe the others would also like to have our names added to the list, if possible. I can’t remember exact dates, but it was 1970-1971.
Please add the following names to the 3/17 roster:
Charles Bottom SP5 Seattle, WA AH1-G Crew chief
Ron Beard SP5 San Bernadino, CA UH-1 Crew chief
John Klingensmith SP5 Carbondale, PA AH1-G Crew chief
Louie Knight SP5 Ogden, UT Aircraft electrician
Note: 4 years ago, 42 years after serving together, a tight group of friends managed to get together for a reunion. We’ve been getting together every year since. I’ve included a before and after picture of the group (see attachment below). We thought it might be interesting to post on the 3/17 website, maybe in Photo Gallery or the Blog, or wherever.
Thank you for your service and for remembering the Cav,
Charles (Charly) Bottom
My personal tribute to two fallen Silver Spur Scouts and American Heroes. Never Forgotten – Roger “Bear” Young
MEMORIAL DAY TRIBUTE 2016
This Memorial Day is a fitting time for me to give tribute to a deserving young lieutenant, tribute which is long past due. Forgive me, but I cannot remember his name. There were about 40 pilots in our unit at any given time, and I just don’t remember.
The young man had come into my Air Cavalry unit in the 101st Airborne Division only about two months before his untimely death. Like almost every other pilot already there, he had just completed a combat tour in Vietnam. Some of us had served two or three, but this was the lieutenant’s first, right out of flight school. Like most of us, I am sure he had not volunteered to go, nor was he happy when he received the orders. But in those days, volunteering for flight school meant almost surely, although indirectly and involuntarily, that one would end up in Vietnam.
He was a carefree bachelor. As soon as he reached the States, he used a year’s worth of combat pay and flight pay to buy a brand new 1973 Corvette. With a weekend pass in hand, one Friday he decided to drive from Fort Campbell to his parent’s home in Cleveland. We never saw him again. That Saturday night in Cleveland, he died in a one-car accident.
None of us knew him well, but it did not matter. I obtained permission to load up two UH-1H Hueys with pilots to fly up there for the funeral. He deserved just as much respect and grief as if he had died in combat, in my book. So about 15 of us, warrant officers, lieutenants, captains, and one major, packed our Army green uniforms and jump boots and took off to fly north. I remember that the first fuel stop was at Fort Knox, and as we flew final approach I pointed out the Gold Depository through the left windows, for those who had never been to Knox. I also recall that the final approach to the Cleveland airport was on instruments, at night and in the soup, and took us over Lake Erie, which made me nervous.
One of our more enterprising warrant officers had called ahead to a National Guard armory and arranged for transportation in Army sedans, for which he signed. No government quarters were available, so we stayed in a motel. The next day, we dressed in our green blouses, complete with bloused jump boots, as decreed by the 101st Airborne Division.
Upon arrival at the church, we created quite a stir. I guess we were not expected. The funeral director, obviously impressed, asked if we would line up on each side as the casket was carried into the church. Of course we obliged, as this seemed the thing to do without being asked. We held our hand salutes until the flag-covered casket was inside, then we filed into the church. We all sat together, and we Protestants knelt and prayed right along with all the Roman Catholics, during a service conducted by a priest.
At the end of the service, people were invited forward to pay final respects at the casket. We soldiers went up there one at a time, me first. I stood at attention and rendered a final hand salute in front of that flag, slowly lowering my hand in the respectful order arms gesture used on such occasions. I could not hold back a few tears. Each pilot followed my lead, one at a time. I don’t know about the tears part.
Afterwards, we were invited to the Cleveland home of the young man’s parents. They were devout Roman Catholics. Although in grief, they were upbeat in the knowledge that their son was with the Lord. I seem to remember that he had two surviving young sisters, either teenagers or in their early 20s. Lots of cousins were present, also. The family fed us, thanked us profusely, and said that our presence meant a lot to them.
There was not much chatter on the intercom during the long flight home. I remember one refueling stop at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, where they had trouble finding a fuel hose small enough for our Hueys, and another stop at Fort Knox. Much of the flight was in actual instrument conditions.
The young pilot, whose name, sadly, I cannot remember, deserved every bit as much honor, respect, and dignity as if he had died in combat. I hope we gave it to him. This is what I want to convey on this Memorial Day, as I have never told this story before. When his country called, he did not question why by running to Canada or protesting in the streets. He was every bit a comrade as if we had lost him in a landing zone, unknown name notwithstanding. I remember him.
Chuck Oualline