The day before, I had ridden 35 miles in 3 1/2 hours, and satisfied myself that I am up to the task of 50 miles per day without time constraints. I'll get in a couple more training rides between now and the time I leave on Thursday to head for the East Coast, leaving Sally and group of very supportive neighbors to look after the neighborhood. We're blessed to have several friends and neighbors who work out of their homes and have helped build a very effective Neighborhood Watch program.
One of the signs that I will carry on this trip to call attention to veteran's health issues honors the men from my unit, the 361st Aviation Company Escort who lost their lives in service to their nation in Vietnam. Like me, they were very young, ambitious, in love with their calling, and probably regarded themselves as being somewhat bulletproof.
Most of us felt well-protected within the confines of our Cobra gunships. We were fast, heavily armed, and very maneuverable. The 361st was the first all-Cobra unit to be sent to Vietnam; and in spite of our mascot, the Pink Panther, we were a formidable force to be reckoned with. I'm sure we were shot at often, but were unaware of it, as the Cobra's cockpit was fully enclosed and served by a very loud but wonderful air-conditioning system, one of the very few helicopters in Vietnam to be so equipped. Interrogations of the "other guys" revealed that most of our adversaries were indeed afraid to shoot at a Cobra if there was any possibility of their position being revealed. Being only 36" in width, a fully-loaded Cobra, spewing all sorts of explosive earth-moving equipment, was a very difficult target to hit head-on. This fact helped bolster the crew's feeling of relative invincibility. But, with the introduction of radar-controlled anti-aircraft guns in our area of operations, we suddenly became more exposed, and had to change our tactics considerably. In fact, the first ship we lost was due to a direct hit on the tip of the gun turret, which killed the copilot/gunner, CW2 Ben Ide, on December 19, 1968. Until that time, we had operated virtually unscathed, with only an occasional stray bullet hitting one of our ships, but never injuring or harming the crew.
So, what's this got to do with a bike ride for veterans? Listed below are the veterans from the 361st who did not survive to come home, young men who never had a chance to "get on with their lives." They gave their all. Like them, those that did come home put everything they had on the line. Some of them were injured, and wear Purple Hearts as evidence of the price they paid. Most show no signs of injury, but carry the hidden scars of other physical and mental wounds that, even today go undiagnosed. It is these veterans with undiagnosed or untreated war-related wounds that have inspired this ride.
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