Three months before my sixteenth birthday I became an American Patriot. As I was listening to the radio, I heard that three US marines had been killed by a mortar attack in Vietnam.
Until that moment I had never thought about war or patriotism. But that moment was life changing. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of patriotism and the need to go fight for my country. I had to go to Vietnam!
Fast forward three years… So even though the Vietnam war was very unpopular, remember, I wanted to serve. But I did not want to oblige myself to three years of active duty in case I didn’t like military life. And besides, I liked the scary odds of ending up infantry as a draftee.
Fortunately for me the Vietnam Draft Lottery came along. Eligible draftees were born between January 01,1944 and December 31, 1950. I was born July 24, 1950.
My lottery number was twenty-three out of 366.
It was for certain I was going. I finished tech school in July of ’69. I took my exams and was certified an airframe and power plant mechanic. I took off to Hawaii and waited for my draft orders.
I’m in the Army now! First year stateside, basic training at Fort Lewis, WA. It was wet, wet, wet, foggy, cold, and even had snow in the mix. The sun shone maybe three times while I was there. I grew up in the Las Vegas desert and had never seen so much rain.
I graduated Basic Training and got my posting orders and MOS designation. Some soldiers went to Advanced Individual Training (AIT) to gain their MOS. I was given a MOS code of 68F30, (aircraft electrician). I received no AIT as I had graduated from tech school as an aircraft mechanic.
From basic training, I went directly to Ft. Carson, Colorado, assigned to a helicopter unit. On the same day of arrival a number of us were reassigned to a Post Transportation unit. We drove deuce and a halves, fuel/water tankers, buses, jeeps and just about anything that had wheels.
Nearing a year of service, I resigned myself to not going to Nam. So, I enrolled in some college courses. I attended my first night of classes and wouldn’t you know it?! I had my orders for Nam the very next day.
I arrived at Cam Ranh Bay, South Vietnam in February 1970 for processing and unit assignment. This was a major installation used by the US Army, Air Force, and Navy for logistical operations necessary for war.
On my third day, I am thinking that maybe the war was over. There had been no enemy action. Boy was I wrong! That night I awoke airborne, hearing a most blood curdling scream. We had had a rocket attack, and everyone was scrambling out of the barracks to get to the bunkers. In the process several bunks had been overturned, mine being one of them.
The next day I had my orders. I was assigned to the 101st Airborne Division, 159th Aviation Battalion (air mobile). We were a CH-47 Chinook assault support helicopter outfit.
I was put in charge of the electrical shop on arrival. It was an okay position but with my civilian aviation experience I had flying in my blood. Soon I figured out that I could fill in for some of the aircrew members as a door gunner. I only got to go up a dozen times or so but Wow!
For me flying was an addiction before I went into the army. And now I was flying in helicopters and in a war zone. What an adrenaline fix!!
Well, almost twelve months had passed. It’s time to go home or re-up. I didn’t have anyone or anything waiting for me back home. But I wasn’t all that keen on military life.
I pondered re-enlisting or going home. I decided on Officer Candidate School (OCS) and Flight School. I took the OCS exam and passed it. Next was the pilot aptitude test. I was told I could go down to Saigon and “hang around” to take it. Something didn’t feel right, and I had nothing in writing, so I opted to go home.
It was rumored that soldiers were re-enlisting and not getting what they were promised. “Xin lỗi” (sorry), I am out of here!
Like many war veterans, I packed Vietnam in a footlocker and mentally buried it as deep as I could. I wanted nothing to do with it or anything military related, including and especially the Veterans Administration. Big Mistake!!
In 1982 I left America, ten years after Nam, to live in the United Kingdom. I spent thirty-three years there and returned ten years ago. I was appalled to find what America has turned into. The UK and much of Europe leans toward or practices Socialist policies.
I have seen and experienced what Socialism is firsthand. I have also known people who escaped Communist countries. These types of government are not about individual freedoms or equality or individual privacy or freedom of speech!
They are the self-proclaimed enemy of all these things we tend to take for granted and are quickly disappearing before our very eyes. Open them and take a close look at where America is today.
I have attached a poem that took me thirty-six years to assemble and finally put on paper. It was painful and still is. Countless times I asked myself, “would I do it again?.” I love my country but until recently, I could not answer that question.
So, the answer now is a resounding “Yes! I would do it again.” I know there are many veterans, battle experienced or not, who are still suffering and probably always will.
I pray this poem and a belief in God, can help you heal. I pray you realize you are not alone. I pray for the healing of the hearts and minds of all veterans, active military, police officers, first responders and their families.
I love my country and I pray you do too. I make no apologies for my patriotism.
John 15:13 KJV
Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.
~POEM~
Would I Do It Again?
We were told it was for the freedom of man
To stop oppression in a distant land
In the name of just and right
Off we went to fight
With romantic patriotic notions, with naivety of youth
We went the purveyors of right and truth
Some were dragged in, protesting, kicking and screaming
Perhaps they knew this was only scheming
Some went head held high, with feelings of pride and might
Doing what we thought was right
You come to realise, your tears for the fallen were in vain
They were the lucky ones, their hell ended there and then
Years pass and you try to bury your regrets, your hell
But you know you never will
Some live with guilt, with shame, some with anger, with blame
But mostly, we all live with pain
You know more than most, the value of life
You saved it and you took it, in circumstances of trouble and strife
As the years pass if you’re lucky, the nightmares lessen
At last, you think, I’ve received a blessing
But what replaces that, is this picture in your mind
Heaps of bloody, broken bodies of men, women, and children, we call mankind
A repulsive sight, yet you are drawn to look and closely stare
Hoping to find yourself in there
For if you did you would surely bet
At last, you have finally settled your debt
Ironically the ones we went to save
Will haunt us to our grave
“Would I do it again?”
David Cortez Salinas 6th February 2008
Endnote
Cam Ranh Bay, South Vietnam — 1970
Operational Environment of David Cortez Salinas
In 1970, Cam Ranh Bay was one of the largest and most strategically vital U.S. installations in Vietnam. Built on a deep‑water natural harbor, it served as a major aviation, maintenance, and logistical center, supporting Army, Air Force, and Navy operations across the entire theater.
For an aircraft electrician and shop chief like David Cortez Salinas, Cam Ranh Bay was a high‑tempo environment where:
- Helicopters arrived constantly for electrical repairs, battle‑damage assessment, and system overhauls
- The 101st Airborne Division’s aviation assets depended on rapid, precise maintenance
- Dust, humidity, monsoon rains, and salt air created relentless electrical challenges
- Aircraft turnaround times were measured in hours, not days
- Maintenance crews worked under pressure to keep air assault missions flying safely
The 159th Aviation Battalion’s aircraft — including UH‑1 Hueys, AH‑1 Cobras, and CH‑47 Chinooks — relied on the technical mastery of men like Salinas. Every medevac, troop lift, resupply, and close‑support mission began with the work done on the ground at places like Cam Ranh Bay.
In 1970, the war was shifting into its most complex phase, with U.S. forces drawing down even as operational demands remained high. This made maintenance leadership more critical than ever. As shop chief, Salinas ensured that aircraft remained mission‑ready despite shrinking manpower, heavy flight hours, and the constant strain of combat operations.
His service at Cam Ranh Bay places him at the center of the aviation backbone that sustained the 101st Airborne Division during a pivotal year of the Vietnam War.
Here’s the vivid, sensory, boots‑on‑the‑ground environment David Cortez Salinas would have lived and worked in at Cam Ranh Bay, South Vietnam, 1970 — the real texture of the place, the weather, the sounds, the smells, and the daily pressures on an aviation electrician.
The Environment at Cam Ranh Bay, South Vietnam — 1970
What it actually felt like for an aircraft electrician and shop chief:
Heat, Humidity, and Salt Air
Cam Ranh Bay was brutally hot. Daytime temperatures often pushed into the 90s with humidity so thick it felt like a wet blanket. Sweat never dried. Tools rusted overnight. Electrical connectors corroded faster than they could be cleaned. The salt air blowing in from the bay was relentless — a constant enemy for anyone maintaining aircraft wiring.
Winds off the South China Sea
Strong coastal winds whipped across the peninsula, carrying sand and fine grit that worked its way into every open panel on a helicopter. For an aircraft electrician, this meant constant cleaning, resealing, and troubleshooting shorts caused by moisture and debris.
Monsoon Rains
When the monsoon hit, it came down in sheets. The flight line turned into a shallow lake. Maintenance crews worked under ponchos, makeshift tarps, or inside sweltering metal maintenance shelters. Electrical work had to be precise even when everything around you was soaked.
Constant Aircraft Movement
Cam Ranh Bay was one of the busiest aviation hubs in Vietnam. The environment was filled with:
- Helicopters lifting off every few minutes
- Jet engines screaming from the Air Force side of the base
- Chinooks thundering overhead
- Dust clouds kicked up by rotor wash
- The smell of JP‑4 fuel hanging in the air
For a shop chief, the tempo never slowed. Aircraft came in damaged, worn, or overdue for electrical checks — and they needed to be turned around fast.
Maintenance Under Pressure
The 159th Aviation Battalion supported missions all over I Corps. That meant:
- Long hours on the flight line
- Night work under red lights
- Troubleshooting wiring in cramped, hot compartments
- Repairing battle‑damaged aircraft
- Getting Hueys and Cobras back in the air for medevacs, troop lifts, and gunship support
The environment wasn’t just physical — it was operational. Every repair had life‑or‑death consequences.
Living Conditions
Most soldiers lived in:
- Wooden hooches with tin roofs
- Sandbags stacked around the walls
- Screens to keep out mosquitoes
- Fans that barely cut the heat
- Dust coating everything during the dry season
At night, the base was dim — low lighting to reduce visibility to enemy observers. The sounds of generators, aircraft, and distant artillery were constant.
The Landscape
Cam Ranh Bay itself was stunning — turquoise water, white sand, and rugged hills — but the beauty contrasted sharply with the reality of war. The peninsula was heavily fortified, fenced, and guarded. Beyond the perimeter, the threat of attack was always present.
Cam Ranh Bay in 1970 was hot, humid, windy, gritty, loud, and nonstop, a place where aircraft maintainers worked under crushing tempo and harsh conditions to keep the 101st Airborne Division flying. For David Cortez Salinas, it was a test of endurance, leadership, and technical mastery every single day.
What “ACPT Electrician” means in practice
An Army aircraft electrician in Vietnam typically worked on:
- UH‑1 Hueys (most common)
- AH‑1 Cobras
- CH‑47 Chinooks
- OH‑6 Cayuse
- Occasionally fixed‑wing (OV‑1 Mohawk, U‑21, etc.)
Their duties included:
- Electrical system repair
- Troubleshooting avionics
- Battery systems
- Wiring harnesses
- Lighting, ignition, and power distribution
- Keeping aircraft mission‑ready for air assault, medevac, recon, and gunship missions
These soldiers were often assigned to:
- Assault Helicopter Companies (AHC)
- Aviation Battalions
- Combat Aviation Groups
- Transportation Aviation Maintenance units
Working on Aircraft That Were Actively Targeted
Helicopters were the most hunted aircraft in Vietnam. Every Huey, Cobra, or Chinook David worked on had:
- bullet holes
- shrapnel damage
- electrical shorts from near-misses
- systems fried by enemy fire
He often worked on aircraft that had just come back from combat — still hot, still smoking, sometimes still dripping hydraulic fluid and fuel
David worked on helicopters that came back from missions riddled with bullet holes, shrapnel damage, and burned‑out electrical systems. Many were still hot from combat, leaking fuel, or smoking from near‑misses. Every inspection meant stepping into the aftermath of enemy fire
Rocket and Mortar Attacks on the Base
Cam Ranh Bay was a major target. Even though it was heavily defended, the enemy still launched:
- rockets
- mortars
- sapper attacks
Maintenance crews were especially vulnerable because they worked out in the open on the flight line, surrounded by fuel, ammunition, and aircraft — all of which could ignite.
Cam Ranh Bay, despite its size and defenses, was a target. Rockets and mortars could strike without warning. Maintenance crews were exposed on the open flight line, surrounded by fuel, ammunition, and aircraft — a dangerous place to be during an attack.
Electrical Hazards in Extreme Conditions
Aircraft electricians faced dangers that could kill even without enemy fire:
- high‑voltage systems
- fuel vapors
- wet wiring during monsoons
- corroded connectors that could arc
- cramped compartments where one mistake could be fatal
Humidity and salt air made electrical shorts far more dangerous.
One spark in the wrong place could be fatal. The combination of electricity, fuel, and tropical weather made every repair a risk.
Rotor Wash and Flight Line Accidents
The flight line was one of the most dangerous workplaces in Vietnam:
- rotor blades spinning just feet overhead
- Chinooks creating hurricane‑force winds
- debris flying at high speed
- aircraft taxiing in tight spaces
- noise so loud you couldn’t hear warnings
One wrong step could mean injury or worse.
Working Under Fire to Keep Aircraft Flying
When missions stacked up — medevacs, troop lifts, gunship escorts — maintainers worked while aircraft were taking off and landing around them.
They repaired:
- battle‑damaged wiring
- shot‑out lights
- fried generators
- navigation failures
…often while the next mission was already waiting on the pad.
Helicopters leaked fuel constantly. Electrical work around JP‑4, magnesium components, and overheated engines meant that fire was a constant threat. One arc, one spark, one unnoticed leak could ignite instantly.
Night Operations
Night work brought its own dangers:
- limited visibility
- red‑lens flashlights
- trip hazards
- aircraft moving in the dark
- sudden emergency launches
Nighttime was quieter — but never safer.
Fuel, Fire, and Explosions
Helicopters leaked fuel constantly. Electrical work around:
- JP‑4
- hydraulic fluid
- magnesium components
- overheated engines
…meant one spark could ignite a fire
The Psychological Danger
Even though he wasn’t infantry, he lived with:
- constant noise
- constant threat
- constant pressure
- constant responsibility
Every aircraft he cleared for flight carried soldiers whose lives depended on his work. That weight alone was a danger — the kind that stays with a man long after the war. The pressure was constant, and it stayed with men long after the war.
The Reality
David Cortez Salinas served in a role where:
- the environment could kill him
- the aircraft could kill him
- the enemy could kill him
- and the pressure never let up
He wasn’t behind the lines.
He was on the flight line — one of the most dangerous places in Vietnam
A Day in the Life of David Cortez Salinas
Aircraft Electrician & Shop Chief — Cam Ranh Bay, South Vietnam, 1970
0430–0530 — Before Sunrise
The day began long before the sun rose over the South China Sea. The air was already warm and heavy, thick with humidity. David stepped out of his hooch into the dimly lit base, hearing generators humming and distant helicopters spooling up for first-light missions. He grabbed a quick breakfast — powdered eggs, toast, and strong coffee — knowing it might be the only real meal he’d get until nightfall.
0600 — First Aircraft Inspections
By sunrise, he was already on the flight line. The heat rose fast, and the metal skin of the helicopters warmed under his hands. As shop chief, David assigned tasks to his crew, then dove into the work himself:
- Checking wiring harnesses
- Testing navigation and communication systems
- Inspecting battery compartments
- Troubleshooting shorts caused by humidity, dust, or salt air
Every aircraft had to be ready for missions that could not wait.
0800–1200 — High-Tempo Repairs
The morning brought a steady stream of aircraft needing attention:
- A Huey returning from a night medevac with flickering panel lights
- A Cobra gunship with a weapons-control electrical fault
- A Chinook with a generator issue after flying heavy lift missions
The rotor wash blasted sand into the air. The smell of JP‑4 fuel hung everywhere. David worked with precision despite the noise, the heat, and the pressure. He knew that every repair he signed off on would carry soldiers into danger
1200 — Heat of the Day
By midday, the sun was punishing. Sweat soaked through uniforms. Tools grew hot to the touch. The maintenance tents felt like ovens. Lunch was usually quick — a can of C‑rations eaten sitting on a crate, or nothing at all if an aircraft needed to be turned around fast.
1300–1700 — Leadership Under Pressure
Afternoons were for the toughest jobs:
- Rewiring damaged components
- Replacing corroded connectors
- Running full electrical diagnostics
- Supervising younger electricians learning under fire
As shop chief, David balanced leadership with hands-on work. He kept morale steady, even when missions stacked up and aircraft came in with battle damage. His calm presence set the tone for the entire shop.
1700 — Monsoon Interruptions
If monsoon rains rolled in — and they often did — everything changed. Sheets of water hammered the flight line. Work shifted under tarps, inside sweltering shelters, or wherever there was enough cover to keep tools dry. Electrical work demanded absolute precision, even when the world around him was soaked.
1900–2200 — Night Operations
Evenings were rarely quiet. Night missions meant night maintenance:
- Red-lens flashlights
- Shadows moving across the flight line
- The thump of helicopters lifting off into the dark
David often stayed late, ensuring the next day’s aircraft were ready. The work was exhausting, but he understood its importance. Lives depended on the reliability of every wire, every switch, every system he touched.
2300 — Finally Rest
When he finally returned to his hooch, the base was still alive with distant aircraft noise. He cleaned up as best he could, wrote a letter home if he had the energy, and lay down on a cot still vibrating from the day’s tempo. Sleep came fast, because in just a few hours, it would all begin again.
For David Cortez Salinas, this wasn’t a single day — it was the rhythm of life in Vietnam.
A life of:
- relentless heat
- constant aircraft movement
- leadership under pressure
- technical mastery
- and quiet, unrecognized courage
He kept the 101st Airborne Division flying. He kept missions alive. He kept soldiers safe
Legacy
David Salinas carries a legacy shaped by courage, endurance, and the quiet strength of a man who served his country during one of the most demanding eras in American military history.
As a Vietnam War U.S. Army veteran, he stepped into a conflict defined by uncertainty, unforgiving terrain, and relentless operational pressure. His role as an aircraft electrician (ACPT) placed him at the heart of Army aviation — the lifeline of the war.
Every mission, every evacuation, every resupply flight depended on the precision and reliability of the aircraft he maintained.
His legacy is one of responsibility under fire.
While others saw helicopters lifting off into danger, David saw the lives depending on his hands. He worked in conditions that demanded technical mastery, calm under pressure, and an unwavering commitment to the soldiers who relied on those aircraft to come home. His service was not loud or decorated for spectacle — it was the kind of essential, behind‑the‑scenes excellence that keeps units alive and missions possible.
But David’s legacy extends far beyond Vietnam.
He returned home carrying the weight of a generation that served without fanfare, often without recognition, yet continued to build families, communities, and futures with the same quiet determination they showed in uniform. His life stands as a testament to resilience — the ability to endure hardship, to rebuild, and to continue giving long after the war ended.
David Salinas leaves a legacy of honor, humility, and strength.
He is remembered not only as a veteran, but as a protector, a provider, and a man whose service shaped the values he passed down. His story becomes part of the larger narrative of Vietnam veterans who stood their ground, did their duty, and carried the burden of a difficult war with dignity.
David was also a man of community. He believed in showing up, lending a hand, and being someone others could count on. Whether helping neighbors, supporting local efforts, or simply offering his time and presence, David made his community stronger.
He lived with a generosity that didn’t need recognition — the kind of everyday service that leaves a lasting impact. His steady character, his willingness to help, and his genuine care for others became part of the fabric of the place he called home.
David Salinas
A soldier who served with skill and resolve.
A veteran who carried his experiences with quiet courage.
A man who strengthened his community through kindness and integrity.
A man whose life continues to honor the generation that answered the call in Vietnam while he spreads God’s word everywhere he goes in the community.