The sound of freedom? Not for me.

In 1967 the “sound” for me was the sound of life. My life, the lives of the boys I was with and five of my brothers who also served in the jungles, rice paddies and mountains of South Viet Nam.

They weren’t the same aircraft, but the sound was alike and we’d hear it after they had laid down suppressing fire and were climbing out.

A beautiful roar! I, my five brothers, and many of our friends owe our lives to that sound. Our local Navy aircraft seem to be flying further north (since the complaints from Coupeville) before making their climbing right turn after leaving the Outlying Field. Nearly over my house, and I love that sound.

I was a U.S. Army “ground pounder” but I love the Navy. They gave me the first fresh milk I had tasted in five months as well as other real food.

Five months of mostly 15-year-old “C” rations took me from a strapping 200 pounds of well-trained muscle down to 143 pounds. What a treat the Navy food was.

A belated “thank you” to the Navy. “Keep ‘em flying.”

Robert E. Nelson
1st Lt. RVN Class of 1967,
Oak Harbor