and other writings I get to see 99% of them a week or days before posting here. The only reason is the chopper net that I am on, is significantly much larger, than forums-forums.. Here is something I posted again, to that chopper net, that I wrote in 97.. Has nothing to do wtih holidays or the season... I use to write a lot of stories such as the one posted here. Gave it up in 2000...
"Something a Pilot Could Never See."
I came home from swimming. I stand neck deep, jog two thousand steps, then do 44 laps of a 50 ft pool. Today it is cloudy and spotted rain. I can't continue staining the house, so, I came in here, put a Neil Diamond CD in the disc drive. I love to hear Holly Holy. Every time I hear this song it brings me back to the hundreds of string extractions that we performed, almost every single day. The one thing doing string extractions that a pilot/AC could never see, but, was the sole property of a crew chief and door gunner was the indigenous Jari or Rhade tribesman, who, even while shot and firing back as we pulled them from a hover hole, always, ALWAYS, would look up and give us that eight year old smile. For they knew, they were going to be saved medically, and live another day or they were going to their ancient tribal burial grounds. Either way, they won their part of the deal. There is no pilot of a Huey nor the Pink Panther escort who flew along side of us, the ARVN " Sandie's" who usually were on station, the Fox 4's, be them AF or occasional Marine/Navy who were on station, or the obvious boss of the whole operation, that of the Covey... None of them under our circumstances had the means or way to see what we could see in the back. We were required by SOP, to look out at least every few minutes and I don't mean every five either.. That smile of a grown man that looked no older than an eight year old boy.. Each and every one of those indigenous smiles are permanently etched in my brain. They only come to
life when I listen to the song Holly Holy.
Larry Burbridge
"Something a Pilot Could Never See."
I came home from swimming. I stand neck deep, jog two thousand steps, then do 44 laps of a 50 ft pool. Today it is cloudy and spotted rain. I can't continue staining the house, so, I came in here, put a Neil Diamond CD in the disc drive. I love to hear Holly Holy. Every time I hear this song it brings me back to the hundreds of string extractions that we performed, almost every single day. The one thing doing string extractions that a pilot/AC could never see, but, was the sole property of a crew chief and door gunner was the indigenous Jari or Rhade tribesman, who, even while shot and firing back as we pulled them from a hover hole, always, ALWAYS, would look up and give us that eight year old smile. For they knew, they were going to be saved medically, and live another day or they were going to their ancient tribal burial grounds. Either way, they won their part of the deal. There is no pilot of a Huey nor the Pink Panther escort who flew along side of us, the ARVN " Sandie's" who usually were on station, the Fox 4's, be them AF or occasional Marine/Navy who were on station, or the obvious boss of the whole operation, that of the Covey... None of them under our circumstances had the means or way to see what we could see in the back. We were required by SOP, to look out at least every few minutes and I don't mean every five either.. That smile of a grown man that looked no older than an eight year old boy.. Each and every one of those indigenous smiles are permanently etched in my brain. They only come to
life when I listen to the song Holly Holy.
Larry Burbridge
Keep em coming LB ....that is if you don't mind sharing them. I doubt many on here (if any) already saw them on your biker net.
Yeah, I'm sure your right BC. OPPS! 
