Ronald Dale Currie

“I’m in Vietnam every day and every morning. I’ll be that way for the rest of my life.” — Ronald Dale Currie

“I started telling stories because I want people to know what happened … I don’t want these people forgotten.” — Ronald Dale Currie

I was born in Jackson, MS. My father was ex- Navy. I didn’t know a lot about his service until I was in the hall closet one day. I was about 5 or 6. I saw a cardboard box that was full of pictures and saw one of my Dad. He was an avionics radioman and had been shot in the leg by a Jap fighter. He never said anything about it.

I really liked my Great Grandfather. I’m convinced I got a lot of his genes. He died at the age of 90. My uncle Elbert was in World War 2 and drank a lot after the war. He was the sheriff for Jackson, MS. My mother died early at 43. She was a diabetic and injected herself with the early form of insulin that had to be refrigerated. She was a good Mom and took good care of us buying groceries, doing the laundry, and cooking fresh food. Nothing from a can.

Mom had a stroke right before I left for Vietnam. She would sit in her wheelchair and listen to the birds on the porch. She would stay up until I came home. The next morning I heard crying. My mother had died during the night. She was already cold and her limbs were turning dark. I’m convinced God took her because she could not accept me going to Vietnam. I still think about that a lot.

My middle name is Dale, named after a good military friend of my father Donald Dale Crockett, he was a cousin of Davey Crockett who died fighting in the Alamo.

We moved to the Samson Park area of Fort Worth and lived in a trailer park. Later my family lived in a house my father built. He was a hard worker and I believe most of my traits came from him. He did not go to college.

My brother liked to work with cars. He bought a Model A for $35 and towed it home. He and my father tore it apart down to the frame and painted the block red & black. My brother wanted to rebuild it into a hot rod but my father wanted to keep it stock. He joined the model A Club and refused to sell the car to anyone who wanted to turn it into a hot rod.

My first job was delivering circulars off Vaughn near TWC that were different colors. I would walk 4 miles to touch up the papers and I got $.01 for every paper delivered. My boss would check up on us by driving down the street looking for the papers in the doors.

Some of the paper boys were throwing them down the storm drain. But not me, I delivered mine. My second job was delivering the morning and evening papers for the Fort Worth Press and then changed to the Star Telegram. The hardest part of the job was delivering the newspaper bills and collecting. It was difficult finding customers at home or they wouldn’t answer their door. It was especially hard during Christmas when I had to deal with 2 heavy bags. You could see the grooves in the snow where I was dragging the bags.

It was hard for me to get up early in the morning. My boss would park outside our house and honk his horn very loud. That made my father mad so he went over to his house and honked the horn to wake him up. My boss never bothered us again.

I was a hard case growing up. Got spanked every day. I was supposed to mow the grass but I didn’t want to. So I said real loud I wanted to mow over someone and kill them. Yes, I got into trouble for that. One time I was playing outside and a bunch of older girls were watching. I was playing with Randy Smithnick and he called me Dale Evans, the wife of Roy Rogers. That made me mad so I hit him in the head.

I attended Poly High School from 1963 to 1966. I was in the band and got to participate in marches through downtown Fort Worth. I remember that on November 23, 1963, President J F Kennedy was staying at the Fort Worth Hotel. We were the 1st band he saw while he was standing on the steps of the courthouse. While I was marching I was having fun swinging my tuba.

We were constantly looking around for G Men who were protecting the president. He and his wife soon drove to Dallas in a black convertible. Our bus was in the back of the courthouse and by the time we got back to Poly HS, Kennedy had been shot. The Star Telegram published a picture of the shooting.

I was drafted after High School. It was funny but I was convinced that his 6th grade teacher passed me just to move me up the line and out of her class. I loved engineering.

I was married but didn’t have any children. I said goodbye and went to Dallas. When I reported to the draft center the doctor said I didn’t have to go because I only weighed 98 lbs and needed to weigh 100. Well, I told him I had already said goodbye and knew he would keep calling me to see if I had gained weight.

We were told to sit in rows of chairs. The Sgt would point at us and say “okay you 3 are in the Navy, you 3 are in the Marines, and you 3 are in the Army. So it depended on where you sat to determine which branch you served in. We were told to raise our hands and swear in. The Sgt looked at me and said “Tunnel Rat”. The life expectancy of a tunnel rat was one tunnel.

Our choice of station was based on state and where you wanted to do basic training. By RN you had joined or if you were drafted you would ask for it. But it didn’t always work that way. I asked for Hawaii and was sent to Vietnam and another guy asked for Vietnam and was sent to Hawaii.

By the way I had a friend who was a tunnel rat who wrote songs and sang in a restaurant that overlooked the Fort Worth skyline called Luminarias. He made several tapes and one one he made the sound of the wind blowing in the background. I told him something was wrong with the tape but he said it was just a sound effect. His name was Michael Jay Martin.

We took the bus to Fort Polk. When we arrived we were told to go to orientation to get our uniforms. We were put into lines and told to strip naked and put our clothes into a duffel bag. We were issued white boxer shorts. The Sgt was inspecting us and looked down at one of the recruits and laughed cause he had put his shorts on Backwards.

We were there less than a week and then sent to boot camp for extensive training. We were driven there in a Duce and a half truck. We were all wearing fatigues. When we arrived at the DI, he had an ugly face with a long scar, and told us to line up in front of the barracks. We dropped our duffel bags and took out a white tee shirt, long sleeve shirt and told us to put them on. It was hot so we took off our long sleeve shirts and put on our combat boots. We ran a mile but a lot of the guys started getting sick and put our shirts back on. Across the street was a hill of pine trees and we were told to crawl up the hill double time. The DI would kick us in the backside. Our hands were bloody from the dirt. One of the guys started puking and the Sgt yelled at him because he didn’t have permission to puck and told him to scoop it up and put it in his pocket. That was our first hour in boot camp.

Training was tough. When we went to the rifle range we had to run 4 miles carrying 80 lbs of gear including a M14 rifle, gas mask, canteen while we sang in cadence, “ One more week and then we’re through, ain’t no use of going home.” The DI was always yelling at us. We were training for combat not cookies. I thought most of my time in basic was very hard but great because we weren’t going through it again. We were being trained.

We were expected to go to the gun range everyday. Double time. Especially in the company area. I was running with a friend and we had run 8 miles with all of our gear on. We stopped but the Sgt yelled “did I tell you when to stop? I didn’t tell you to stop.” . We had reached our threshold, it was mind over matter. So I said I’ll finish it. The Sgt was making an example of them.

We were next sent to Fort Eustis in Newport News for helicopter training. We stayed in a hotel and I bought a postcard to send to my Dad. He had stayed at the same hotel. There was a small park near the hotel that had a monument dedicated to the battle between the two ironclads the Monitor and the Merrimack. A few more yards we could see the shipping yards including the aircraft carrier USS John F Kennedy. .

Some of us went down to Virginia Beach to listen to the Mamas & Papas. We found a hotel but it only had one room. They didn’t want to let us stay there overnight but we said we just needed a place to sleep. So they let us stay.

During our first week at the base we wanted to take a tour of a nuclear submarine. There were 3 in dock and there was a narrow board crossing over to the nuclear sub the SS Scorpion. It’s interesting because the Scorpion was the first US Nuclearcsubnaribe. We met a sailor while we were crossing over and I told him I couldn’t swim. He said it wouldn’t matter because the water was freezing and I wouldn’t

We went down inside the Scorpion to check it out. It was dull, dingy, with no color inside. There was one small tray for the men to take turns eating. In the torpedo room the hammock was difficult to reach and one would have to grab the torpedo and swing under it to get in the hammock. The captain had the biggest room. It contained a small closet, desk, and he had to crawl to get into the bed. What’s interesting about the Scorpion is that in May of 1968, the submarine went missing in the North Atlantic.

In Virginia I was training to be a mechanic on helicopters. Two situations occurred. The first occurred when we were tracking the tail rotors. We were working near the tail pipe exhaust sliding a tube until it hit the blades. We would then mark the blades with white paint which would help adjust the pitch of the blades. A new guy walked under and stuck his head under the stinger. It chopped his head off. The second problem occurred when the rotor came off. The Jesus nut had come off.

After 2 weeks we went to Vietnam. I had a window seat and could see the helicopters. The heat hits you hard. There was a truck waiting that had an igloo cooler with cone cups. I drank some of the water.

My father flew an American flag every day I was in Vietnam.

We got a lot of shots when we arrived. The DI instructed us to walk into the room, look ahead, don’t stop. Keep walking straight. The doctors used air guns which made your arm bleed. I asked the doctor if it would hurt but he lied. The shots hurt so I was scared. When we were getting on the bus to go get the shots I traded licks with one of the guys.

Then they called 6 of us to go to the doctors office in the basement. There were barber chairs used by the dentist. We all had bad teeth and the dentist said he wanted to pull some of them out. They took us to a class and gave us toothpaste so they could show us how to brush our teeth. We were also given malaria pills. I couldn’t swallow them so I had to chew them which tasted awful.

We landed at Bear Cat Helicopter camp. Two weeks later this was the same location where a South Vietnamese officer shot a prisoner in the head. The scene was shown on TV and the news. Newbies had to build the barracks. The roof tiles were galvanized and the sun made them very hot.

In fact I got 3rd degree burns.

Finally assigned to a group. I was already trained so I immediately started working on helicopters. I was the best mechanic and liked the Sgt. The crew he had was excellent and didn’t have any problems. Their pilots were excellent. After 6 months I started to fly on missions.

Going on a flying mission was an adrenaline rush as soon as it took off. We were flying at treetop height at 125 mph. Couldn’t pull triggers fast enough. We found enemy camps. The enemy was trying to figure out how to shoot down a helicopter. They had to lead one by 4 lengths. One year we had 187 kills based on body counts. The VC would try to mess up the body counts by carrying off their dead.

My Dad wanted to visit me. He had a haircut and my sister was with him. My Dad wanted to go to Hawaii because he was in the Navy. My Dad called Senator Jim Wright and wanted to know where I was. I was told to take the next plane out to go to Hawaii. My sister was with him and she wanted to go back home in the boat. I met my Dad in Hawaii. We taxied to the end of the runway because there had been a lot of hijacks. When I came back my sister had a poodle that had peed on the floor. She had not let the dog out. So I spanked her. Dad didn’t have the heart to spank her and my mother didn’t raise her.

We were Green 5 Beret team B-36 located in a base in Tay Ninh. I encountered the Montagnard ( French for Mountain people often shortened to Mountain Yards) which were an indigenous ethnic minority group that lived in the central Highlands of Vietnam. They were key American allies and worked closely with the special forces. They were tall, black, and dangerous. Nobody pissed them off because they used blow darts.

Strange and unexplained situations would occur. One involved a recruit who was goofy who had not been in the unit long. We landed in the jungle to eat and he was standing by his helicopter. He thought he had loaded blanks in their guns so he and another crew member were shooting at each other. But the gun was loaded and he shot the crewman. He was a vegetable after that.

There was a supply Sgt who wore really thick glasses. I wondered how he got into the army. He didn’t have a lot of training. He was responsible for handing out the rifles. When it was time for him to go home he shot himself with a M14.

Another time a girlfriend wrote a Dear John letter to a crewman. I talked to him for a couple of hours but while we were flying he jumped out of a helicopter. I was upset because I thought I had helped him.

We were also in the region of Vietnam where Agent Orange was used in Tay Ninh as well as Song Bay.. It involved all of 3rd Corp. They had to treat the rain water to make it safe to drink. The problem was when we didn’t have any rain and had to drink hot Budweiser. The 1st Cav was located on the east side of the town.

On October 3,1968, Smitty and I had an unscheduled flight to deliver ammo. On the flight was Capt Mann, a Green Beret. I told Smitty to take the machine gun side. McCaffrey was also on the flight. All were crew chief qualified.

Smitty said he had to go because it was his helicopter. 10 minutes later after they left the helicopter was shot down. The officials thought the helicopter had gone into a spin but it landed in a huge B-52 crater. The co-pilot had only been there 3 months and had just turned 19. I didn’t like him because he had a chip on his shoulder.

When the helicopter crashed the pilot was on the bottom of the crater and Bixler & McCAffrey got him out. The pilot was killed by enemy fire and Smitty was also dead. The other 3 were also killed by the enemy.

Two weeks later we were flying and came down in a small village. We took a prisoner who was only dressed in a loin cloth. I picked him up and took him to a ledge and was going to throw him over. I wasn’t going to kill him unless he jumped. It was the special training I had received that kept me from killing the prisoner.

We had to be where we were and had to do what needed to be done.

Smitty, or Roger Smith, lived in a small town called Southpoint, Ohio. After Smitty had been killed I tried to call his brother in law. I called back at 5pm because I wanted to eat lunch with him. He replied well come up sometime and I’ll fix lunch. I never made it back up there. I tried to call back because I needed to go up there. His mother thought he was still alive because he was listed as MIA on the Wall.

It was a hard situation because 4 guys did not come back. It has caused me a lot of survivor guilt which caused me to drink a lot and develop a death wish. My oath was that no one would ever say anything bad about my buddies.

The decision was made to name a bridge in a small town in PA after him on Veterans Day. The bridge was wide and over a small creek and split the town. There were a lot of Senators there and I was supposed to be the guest speaker. I was not happy that it took 50 years before Bixler received his Silver Star.

I went over to the Grave Site. It was in an area of town where there were a lot of old houses. It was funny that when we were driving through Pittsburg we saw Confederate Flags. I asked why and they said this area is a part of Alabama in Pittsburgh.

We spent 3 months in Tay Ninh and 3 months in Song Be supporting the Green Beret. Coming into a LZ there is a good chance you were going to die. At 2000 to 3000 feet we were going to be okay. My M-16 jammed but I was trained on fixing the problem and shooting again. We were involved in a VC rocket and mortar attack. We heard them coming but there was no place to hide because the rounds were hitting all around us so I jumped into a fox hole.

A Green Beret radioman who had been there received an alert that some of their troops were in a fire fight and we needed to go pick them up. When we were landing in the dark and trying to be careful of booby traps. The VC would string piano wire that would catch you in the leg.

Other problems were avoiding the trees and the tall elephant grass. The radio man was 17 and had radioed they were in a fire fight. We got off the helicopter and thought the VC had gone but we could still hear bullets passing close to our ears. Our helicopters were armed with 7 rockets, mini guns on the skids and a 60mm gun.

The mess food was C-rations and it was bad. Usually it was like a corn beef hash. Or powder eggs (box eggs) mixed with ham. We never felt safe until we were up. The 199th was getting hit. I heard a rocket blast hit in the middle of the tents but no one was killed. There was one hooch where we noticed the Mamma San was walking around counting off distances.

In the mess hall a claymore mine was hidden in a stack of trays. It killed 10 soldiers. I didn’t trust any of them. One of the strangest and most deadly was when a bucket of JP4 fuel was poured in a bucket with a rubber band and placed under the 1st Sgt’s trailer. As soon as the rubber band melted the fuel exploded.

At Song Be it could get very cold in the mountains so we had sleeping bags.

When we returned to the states we landed at Travis AFB. We landed at dark and there was a steak restaurant. I was in a hurry to see my Dad and sister. I listened to a song “sitting on the porch at the back of the bay” sung by Robert Earl Keene, written by him and friend Lyle Lovett. So I sat out there and took it in. We made one stop in Japan and I walked into the gift shop. The most wonderful memory when I was outside was the smell of freshly mowed grass.

I should have gone into the deactivation program because I was getting into trouble. I couldn’t make myself call my buddies so I took some time off and worked with my Dad. I signed up for some courses at TCJC. The VA paid for the classes and I ran some. I graduated from apprentice class after 4 years and worked applying sheet metal.

I started my own company RBC and used sheet metal workers from other companies. One of my customers was Robert Bass.

I worked in the first riveted spirit at Amon Carter Airport. I did custom work for Bell Helicopter. One time I did a custom job for the President of Mexico. He had body guards and they stuffed the helicopter with items he was taking back to Mexico. I also did a custom job for Rockefeller. He wanted pontoons attached to his Huey so he could land on Lake Michigan or the ocean and fish.

Have to work for what you want. Nothing is free. — Dale Currie

 

Endnote

The 117th Assault Helicopter Company (“Warlords”)—part of the 12th Aviation Group, 214th Aviation Battalion, 1st Aviation Brigade—operated in the Central Highlands of Vietnam. They flew UH-1 Huey helicopters, including heavily armed gunships, which frequently featured colorful nose art.

Little Annie Fannie (often referred to in the 117th AHC context as a “well-endowed” or “bad lady” character) was a known, specific nose art name for a 117th AHC gunship. The 117th AHC (Warlords) was stationed at Camp Radcliff, An Khe, and later at Lai Khe, focusing on assault missions and troop transport.

The 117th AHC (Warlords) was a prominent unit, and their gunships often sported unique, personalized, and sometimes risque artwork on the nose of their helicopters during the Vietnam War

The Vietnam War-era UH-1H Huey helicopter known as “Little Annie Fanny” (tail number 64-13553) was part of the collection at the Cavanaugh Flight Museum in Addison, Texas.

Current Location (As of 2024–2025): The Cavanaugh Flight Museum closed its Addison location on January 1, 2024, and moved its entire collection to hangars at the North Texas Regional Airport (KGYI) in Denison/Sherman, Texas. As of early 2024, the new Denison location is not open to the public, and the aircraft is not currently on public display.

“Little Annie Fannies” refers to the 1st Platoon of the 117th Assault Helicopter Company (“Warlords”), which operated in Vietnam and featured distinctive nose art inspired by the Playboy comic strip. The Specific Aircraft: The 64-13553 Huey was built in Fort Worth in 1964, served with the 117th AHC in Vietnam, was shot and repaired in 1966, and was later upgraded to a UH-1H model. It was acquired by the Cavanaugh Flight Museum in 2018 and painted in its original 117th AHC markings.

Little Annie Fannie was the primary UH‑1 “slick” platoon of the 117th AHC. Slicks were unarmed troop‑carrying Hueys (except for door guns) responsible for:

• Combat assaults (inserting infantry under fire)
• Extractions (pulling troops out of hot LZs)
• Resupply missions
• Command & control flights
• Emergency evacuations
• General support missions across III Corps

 

The platoon’s identity was built around speed, precision, and the ability to get soldiers in and out of landing zones that were often under heavy fire

The Pink Panthers were the 2nd Flight Platoon of the 117th Assault Helicopter Company.
They flew UH‑1 Hueys on missions including:

• “Ash & Trash” (general support)
• Resupply
• Gunship escort
• Medevac escort
• Support for II Corps Tactical Zone operations
• Support for the 101st Airborne, 4th Infantry Division, 25th Infantry Division, 5th Special Forces, Korean White Horse Division, and ARVN units

 

The Pink Panthers were known for:

• Distinctive nose art and platoon insignia
• High‑tempo flying in dangerous terrain
• Escorting medevac birds under fire
• Supporting major operations such as Attleboro and missions around Pleiku, Ban Me Thuot, Bong Son, and Tay Ninh

 

The Sidewinders were the armed escort and attack element of the 117th AHC. Their primary responsibilities included:

• Gunship escort for slicks (Little Annie Fannie & Pink Panthers) during troop insertions and extractions
• Suppressive fire on hot landing zones
• Close air support for ground units in contact
• Reaction force for emergency calls (“scramble missions”)
• Armed reconnaissance along roads, borders, and suspected enemy routes
• Counter‑rocket and counter‑mortar response
• Night firefly missions using high‑intensity lights to expose enemy movement

 

These missions required precision flying, rapid response, and the ability to deliver heavy firepower under extreme pressure.

What the Crest Communicated (their de‑facto motto)

The Warlord emblem—armored fist, lightning bolts, crossed axe and mace—was not decorative. It was a statement of purpose:

• Power in the fist — overwhelming firepower
• Lightning in the strike — speed, aggression, rapid response
• Weapons crossed — readiness for close, brutal combat
• WARLORDS across the top — dominance and protection

 

Why This Motto Fits Historically

• The Warlord crest’s armored fist, lightning bolts, and crossed weapons communicate speed, power, and decisive violence of action.
• The platoon’s mission—gunship escort, heavy fire support, and rescue under fire—embodied those principles.
• Veterans of the 117th AHC consistently describe the Warlords as the platoon you called when things were at their worst.
• Loyalty to each other was the defining trait of gun platoons in Vietnam

 

Early Morning: Wake‑Up Under Threat

Most days began before sunrise.

• Rocket or mortar attacks often hit base camps during the night or early morning. The 25th Infantry Division recorded repeated nighttime attacks on firebases, Special Forces camps, and even the mountaintop signal station at Nui Ba Den.
• Men slept lightly, boots nearby, because they might have to run for bunkers in seconds.
• After “stand‑to,” crews headed straight to the flight line.

For Dale, this meant walking out into the humid morning air, hearing generators, smelling JP‑4 fuel, and seeing helicopters already being prepped.

Morning: Aircraft Inspection and Repairs

Before a Huey could fly, the crew chief had to certify it as airworthy.

• Daily inspections of the engine, rotor system, transmission, hydraulics, and weapons.
• Battle damage repairs from the previous day — bullet holes, cracked panels, leaking lines.
• Loading ammunition for the M60s and checking the mounts.
• Fueling and topping fluids in the heat and dust.

During the August 1968 fighting, helicopters returned riddled with holes because the area around Tây Ninh was under constant enemy pressure.

This was Dale’s world: hands black with grease, sweat dripping, tools clanking, and the knowledge that lives depended on his work.
Types of missions flown daily:

• Troop insertions/extractions into rice paddies, rubber plantations, or jungle clearings.
• Resupply flights to firebases under attack.
• Medevac support, often under fire.
• Recon and observation flights along the Cambodian border.
• Emergency “scramble” missions when a unit was ambushed.

The 25th Infantry Division’s reports describe the area as being hit by major enemy thrusts, with heavy fighting around Tây Ninh City and surrounding villages.

Helicopters were constantly needed to reinforce, evacuate, or resupply units
What Dale did in the air:

• Manned the M60 machine gun as a door gunner.
• Watched engine gauges and rotor RPM.
• Looked for muzzle flashes, movement, or ambush signs.
• Helped load wounded or unload supplies.
• Communicated with pilots about aircraft performance.

Every landing zone could be hot. Every takeoff could draw fire.

Afternoon: Turnaround and More Flying

Between missions, the crew chief’s work didn’t stop.

• Patch holes.
• Replace panels.
• Reload ammunition.
• Refuel.
• Check the engine again.
• Fix whatever broke during the last flight.

 

Then they went back up.

During the enemy’s August–September offensive, the fighting was so intense that helicopters flew multiple missions per hour, supporting infantry who were battling NVA units trying to push into Tây Ninh City.

Evening: Stand‑Down (Sometimes)

If the base wasn’t under attack, evenings were the only time to breathe.

• Quick showers if water was available.
• Letters home.
• Cards, jokes, or quiet moments with the crew.
• Cleaning weapons.
• Listening to distant artillery or the thump of helicopters still flying.

 

But often, evenings were interrupted by:

• Incoming mortars
• Alerts
• Emergency night missions

 

The Daily Illini reported that enemy forces shelled Special Forces camps, firebases, and outposts around Tây Ninh during the night as part of their push toward Saigon.

The Rhythm of Dale’s Days

When you put it all together, Dale’s daily life looked like this:

1. Wake up to danger
2. Inspect and repair helicopters
3. Fly multiple missions under fire
4. Repair again
5. Fly again
6. Stand down — maybe
7. Work late into the night
8. Sleep lightly, waiting for the next attack

It was exhausting, dangerous, and relentless — and it forged bonds between crew members that lasted a lifetime.

What a Crew Chief Actually Did

Across aviation units in Vietnam, including the 117th AHC where Dale served, a crew chief was:

• Primary mechanic responsible for the helicopter’s airworthiness
• In‑flight systems manager watching engine, rotor, and transmission performance
• Door gunner on one of the M60 machine guns
• Observer and threat spotter during low‑level flight
• Ordnance handler helping load ammo, rockets, and flares
• Maintenance lead between missions, often working through the night

 

A Stars and Stripes article from January 18, 1968 describes crew chiefs as:
“Part mechanic, part pilot, an ordnance expert, and a darn good machine gunner.”

Primary Mechanic and Aircraft Owner

The helicopter was his aircraft. Pilots often said the crew chief “owned” the ship.

• Performed daily inspections of every critical component
• Conducted 25‑hour and 100‑hour maintenance checks
• Repaired battle damage between missions
• Ensured the aircraft was safe to fly before the pilot ever touched the controls
• Stayed late into the night to keep the helicopter mission‑ready

Stars and Stripes noted that crew chiefs often worked in the dark, late at night, making sure the ship would fly the next morning.

In‑Flight Systems Manager- While airborne, the crew chief monitored engine temperature and torque. Rotor RPM, transmission performance with Vvbrations and unusual sounds.

He was the pilot’s second set of eyes and ears — often detecting problems before instruments did.

Door Gunner and Combat Crewman

Crew chiefs were always trained and expected to fight.

• Manned one of the two M60 machine guns
• Provided suppressive fire during troop insertions and extractions
• Protected the aircraft during low‑level flight
• Engaged enemy forces in hot landing zones

 

Veteran David Pete described the role as being the “flying mechanic… and also working as a door gunner,” often taking fire in “bullet‑ridden hot LZs.”

Ordnance, Load Specialist and Mission Readiness

Crew chiefs handled ammunition, weapons checks, and cargo loading. They were responsible for ensuring the helicopter could launch within seconds for emergency missions—day or night.

This rapid‑response capability was essential in Vietnam, where downed crews and wounded soldiers depended on immediate extraction.
They were responsible for the weapons systems as much as the aircraft itself.

Rapid‑Response Readiness

Crew chiefs had to be ready to launch in under a minute for emergency missions — day or night. This was essential in Vietnam, where helicopter crews often scrambled to rescue downed pilots or evacuate wounded soldiers.
His role was not just technical. It was combat, maintenance, leadership, and courage woven together.

Pride, Skill, and Constant Learning

Crew chiefs were expected to master: New engine systems, weapons configurations, Field repairs under pressure and ever‑changing mission profiles. As Spec. 5 Bud Maher said in 1968, “We never stop learning.”

Their pride in their aircraft was legendary — pilots often said the crew chief treated the helicopter “like his family car.”

1st Aviation Brigade — The Command Backbone of Army Aviation

The 1st Aviation Brigade was the central command authority for nearly all U.S. Army aviation in Vietnam. It coordinated helicopter companies, aviation battalions, and fixed‑wing assets across the entire theater. The 1st Aviation Brigade became the central command for nearly all U.S. Army aviation in Vietnam.

The Brigade created the structure that allowed thousands of Hueys, gunships, and support aircraft to operate safely and effectively in a chaotic, high‑tempo combat environment.

1st Aviation Brigade, formed officially in March 1966, controlled hundreds of helicopter companies across Vietnam. Providing aviation support to every major U.S. Army division.

There were standardized tactics, training, and air assault doctrine. They were known for the “whop‑whop‑whop” of the UH‑1 Huey — the sound that defined the war.

The Brigade made helicopter warfare possible on a scale never seen before. It coordinated troop lifts, medevacs, gunship support, resupply, reconnaissance, and command‑and‑control flights.

Every aviation unit — including the 12th Aviation Group and 214th Aviation Battalion — ultimately fell under its command umbrella.

12th Aviation Group — The Largest Aviation Command in Vietnam

The 12th Aviation Group was one of the major subordinate commands within the 1st Aviation Brigade. It was responsible for aviation operations in the III Corps Tactical Zone, which included Tây Ninh, Cu Chi, Long Binh, and the Cambodian border — the exact area where Dale served.

The 12th Aviation Group was activated on 18 June 1965 and deployed to Vietnam in August of that year. By November 1965, it had grown to 11,000 personnel and 34 aviation units, making it the largest aviation command of its kind in the war. It was assigned to the III Military Region, which included Tây Ninh, Cu Chi, Dau Tieng, Long Binh, Bien Hoa, and the Cambodian border.

This earned the Meritorious Unit Citation and multiple Vietnamese Gallantry Crosses.
It oversaw the assault helicopter companies, gunship platoons, medevac detachments, and support units that flew daily missions in the Tây Ninh region

214th Aviation Battalion — The Tactical Workhorse

The 214th Aviation Battalion was a combat aviation battalion within the 12th Aviation Group. It controlled multiple assault helicopter companies — the units that flew troop insertions, resupply missions, and gunship support.The 12th Aviation Group controlled the aviation assets that supported the 25th Infantry Division, 1st Infantry Division, and Special Forces in III Corps — the most active combat zone during the 1968 Phase III Offensive.

The 214th Aviation Battalion constituted on 1 February 1967 as the 214th Aviation Battalion fighting in Vietnam from 1967 to 1972. They were assigned to the 12th Aviation Group (Combat) based at Bear Cat and later Long Binh including assault helicopter companies such as the 190th, 191st, 200th, 240th, and 17th AHC at various times.

The 214th Aviation Battalion was responsible for the day‑to‑day combat flying that defined the helicopter war:

• Slick platoons (troop carriers)
• Gunship platoons
• Medevac support
• Resupply and emergency extraction
• Border operations near Cambodia

 

This battalion’s companies flew the missions that crew chiefs like Dale lived every day.

Assigned to the 12th Aviation Group (Combat).

• Headquarters located at Bear Cat, later Long Binh.
• Controlled multiple assault helicopter companies, including:
• 17th AHC
• 117th AHC
• 190th AHC
• 191st AHC
• 195th AHC
• 200th ASHC
• 240th AHC
• (Assignments varied by month and year.)
• Included medical, signal, and transportation detachments that kept aircraft flying.

 

The 214th was the front‑line flying battalion. Its companies flew the daily missions that defined the helicopter war:

• Troop insertions and extractions
• Medevac support
• Gunship escort
• Resupply to firebases
• Border operations near Cambodia
• Emergency extractions under fire

 

This is the level where Dale’s service lived — the cockpit, the flight line, the hot LZ

Even though the 214th Battalion HQ moved, the 117th AHC remained operating in III Corps, specifically:

Primary operational locations for the 117th AHC (1968–69):

• Tây Ninh
• Dau Tieng
• Cu Chi
• The Cambodian border (Fishhook & Parrot’s Beak)
• Firebases in War Zone C
• Special Forces camps at Katum, Trai Bi, and Nui Ba Den

 

These were the exact areas where the 25th Infantry Division was fighting during the Phase III Offensive, and where helicopter losses were highest. Dale’s service squarely inside the 214th’s command structure during the most violent period of the war in III Corps.

How These Units Fit Together (Chain of Command)

• The 1st Aviation Brigade set doctrine and coordinated aviation across Vietnam.
• The 12th Aviation Group commanded aviation in III Corps — the region Dale served in.
• The 214th Aviation Battalion controlled the helicopter companies flying daily combat missions.
• The 117th Assault Helicopter Company (Dale’s unit) was one of those companies operating under this structure.

 

Dale was part of the largest aviation force ever assembled in combat. His missions were shaped by the doctrine and coordination of the 1st Aviation Brigade. Area of operations — Tây Ninh, the Cambodian border, War Zone C — was controlled by the 12th Aviation Group, the biggest aviation command in Vietnam.

His daily missions were directed by the 214th Aviation Battalion, which oversaw the assault helicopter companies flying into the most dangerous areas of III Corps.
This structure explains why his unit was constantly in the air, constantly under fire, and constantly supporting infantry in one of the most violent regions of the war.

The Environment Around Tây Ninh in 1968

Tây Ninh Province sat directly against the Cambodian border, making it the gateway for NVA units moving in and out of sanctuary areas. U.S. intelligence and after‑action reports show:

• The region was chosen as the main area of operations for the enemy’s late‑1968 offensive because of its access to Cambodian base areas.
• U.S. forces expected attacks “at any time,” and the area was saturated with infantry, artillery, and aviation units trying to block infiltration routes.

This meant helicopter crews were flying into a zone where the enemy was already waiting.

Constant incoming fire

The 25th Infantry Division reported that in just one week in August 1968, over 900 enemy fighters were killed in engagements around Tây Ninh — a measure of how intense the fighting was. This level of activity meant helicopters were: Shot at on approach, on departure,while hovering and while climbing out.

Crews described the air as “alive” with small‑arms fire

Helicopter crews like Dale’s flew into a zone where the enemy was already waiting. The environment included:

• Small‑arms fire on approach and departure as NVA and VC units targeted Hueys entering landing zones.
• Mortar and rocket attacks on base camps, fire support bases, and Special Forces camps. One nearby fire support base endured a three‑hour mortar, rocket, and ground assault.
• Ambushes and sudden firefights in rice paddies, rubber plantations, and jungle corridors.
• High operational tempo, with aircraft launching repeatedly to support infantry under attack.

The combination of terrain and enemy tactics meant helicopters were exposed from the moment they lifted off.

One attack on a nearby fire support base lasted three hours under mortar, rocket, and ground assault.

This was the environment Dale slept in, worked in, and launched missions from.

Terrain and Conditions

The land itself was dangerous
The area around Tây Ninh included:

• Rice paddies that bogged down vehicles
• Rubber plantations that hid ambushes
• Dense jungle leading toward Cambodia
• Open fields where helicopters were exposed during landings

The enemy used this terrain expertly, slipping across the border and attacking from concealed positions.

The heat and humidity.

Mechanics and crew chiefs like Dale worked in:

• 100‑degree heat
• Heavy humidity
• Monsoon rains
• Red dust that coated everything

Aircraft came back riddled with bullet holes, hydraulic leaks, and rotor damage — and Dale’s job was to get them flying again, often overnight.

Tension was constant

The 25th Division’s own reports describe the area as being under continuous threat, with units deployed “astride key avenues of approach” because attacks were expected at any moment.

For helicopter crews, this meant:

• Every mission could be the one that didn’t come back.
• Every landing zone could be an ambush.
• Every night could bring rockets or mortars.

Loss was close

The Battle for Tây Ninh (Aug–Sep 1968) produced heavy casualties on both sides, with detailed accounts of ambushes, medics killed while treating wounded, and entire crews lost in seconds.

The fighting was so fierce that infantrymen, artillery crews, and tankers often went days without rest, moving from one engagement to the next as the enemy attempted to break through toward Saigon.world Dale stepped into — and the world he survived.
Life in and around Tây Ninh in 1968 was a shared ordeal for soldiers and civilians, each living through the same violence but experiencing it in different ways. The area was the center of the enemy’s late‑1968 offensive, and the fighting was so intense that U.S. forces reported more than 900 enemy fighters killed in a single week as they tried to push into the city.

The result was a daily existence defined by fear, exhaustion, and resilience for everyone who lived or served there.

Emotional reality for soldiers

• Sleep came in short, shallow bursts.
• Meals were rushed or skipped entirely.
• Every sound at night could be the start of an attack.
• Loss was personal and frequent.
• Bonds between men became unbreakable because survival depended on each other.

Emotional reality for aircrews

• Every mission carried the possibility of not returning.
• Crew chiefs and gunners lived with the knowledge that a single burst of fire could bring the aircraft down.
• The loss of fellow crews was a constant shadow.
• The work was exhausting—physical, mental, and emotional.

 

Civilians: A City Caught in the Crossfire

Tây Ninh’s civilians lived through the same violence without the protection, weapons, or training that soldiers had.

What civilians endured was nighttime shelling that struck homes, markets, and streets. Fleeing villages as fighting moved through rice paddies and plantations and living between two armies, never knowing which direction danger would come from. Their homes and livelihoods were destroyed, especially during the August–September offensive and the fear of reprisals from both the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese forces operating in the area.

The 25th Infantry Division reported enemy forces moving through villages and roads around Tây Ninh City, drawing civilians directly into the conflict.

Emotional reality for civilians

• Families slept in groups for safety.
• Children grew up with the sound of artillery and helicopters overhead.
• Markets reopened after attacks because life had to continue.
• People lived with grief, uncertainty, and the hope that the fighting would pass

A Shared Hardship

Though their roles were different, soldiers and civilians in Tây Ninh shared the same environment: The same explosions shook their nights filling their lungs with smoke. The same fear lived in their chests while the same resilience kept them moving forward.

The Battle for Tây Ninh lasted from August 17 to September 27, 1968, a major division‑level fight that shaped the lives of everyone in the region

The Region Became the Center of the War

North Vietnamese commanders deliberately chose Tây Ninh Province as the main area of operations for the August–September 1968 offensive because of its proximity to Cambodian base areas. This is explicitly documented in the operational planning for the Phase III Offensive.

This meant the enemy was massing forces in the jungle and villages around the city. U.S. commanders expected attacks “at any time.” while the entire region was under constant pressure.

The Phase III Offensive caused 1,036 civilian deaths and 2,536 wounded across South Vietnam, with Tây Ninh among the hardest-hit areas because fighting occurred inside the city where villages were occupied by enemy forces. Roads and markets were shelled and families fled at night to escape crossfire with homes and shops destroyed in the fighting.

Civilians lived through the same nighttime mortar attacks, the same explosions, and the same fear as soldiers — but without weapons, training, or protection.

U.S. Casualties

The U.S.Army did not publish a single total for “Tây Ninh Province casualties,” because losses were recorded by unit, not by province.The U.S. Army tracked casualties by Division, Brigade, Battalion and Operation.

Multiple U.S. infantrymen killed in ambushes along Highway 13 and in rice paddies and rubber plantations.

The real survival picture

The most reliable data comes from the Vietnam Helicopter Pilots Association and the Arlington National Cemetery Huey Crewmember Monument:

• 4,901 helicopter pilots and crew members were killed in Vietnam
• This includes pilots, crew chiefs, door gunners, and medevac crews
• Over 40,000 served in these roles

 

This means the fatality rate for Huey aircrew was about 12% — extremely dangerous.

Survival depended on factors like:

• Location — Tây Ninh was one of the most dangerous places in Vietnam in 1968.
• Mission type — medevac and resupply were the highest risk.
• Aircraft type — “slicks” (troop carriers) took more fire than gunships.
• Enemy activity — the Phase III Offensive put massive pressure on III Corps.
• Crew skill and coordination — pilots and crew chiefs relied on each other constantly.

 

The Army Historical Foundation describes Huey crew life as a daily fight for survival, with near misses, shoot‑downs, and the constant risk of capture.

Helicopters were being shot down near the Cambodian border — including the one Dale nearly crewed on October 3, 1968. Dale survived one of the deadliest aviation jobs in one of the deadliest regions during one of the deadliest months of the war.

Danger was constant, but survival was measured in months — not minutes.

“I was especially prepared on October 3, 1968, when I volunteered to take the place of two of my helicopter crew members on a critical resupply mission during the height of the Vietnam War. As expected, Crew Chief Roger L. ‘Smitty’ Smith and gunner Michael McCafferty declined, and within minutes were shot down by communist forces at Tay Ninh near the border of Cambodia.”

— Ronald Dale Currie

Lost That Day — These were not just names

The men aboard UH‑1H 67‑17595 on October 3, 1968 were not just names on a roster. They were six human beings—four from the 117th Assault Helicopter Company and two passengers—who stepped into a Huey that morning with courage, purpose, and a sense of duty that cost five of them their lives. Their presence on that aircraft is confirmed in the Vietnam Helicopter Pilots Association incident record.

They were sons, brothers, husbands, fathers, friends.

They were men with laughter, fears, dreams, and futures waiting for them back home.
On that day, they became a single crew—bound together by the mission, the danger, and the unspoken promise that no one would be left behind.

The memory of their courage, their sacrifice, and the ultimate price they paid for their service will forever remain etched in Dale Currie’s heart. He will always remember these brave individuals and honor their legacy as true heroes.

 

In Remembrance

Roger Lee “ Smitty” Smith

On June 1, 1999, the Central Identification Laboratory-Hawaii (CILHI, now DPAA) identified the remains of Specialist 4 Roger Lee Smith, missing from the Vietnam War. Specialist 4 Smith joined the U.S. Army from Ohio and was a member of the 117th Aviation Company.

On October 3, 1968, he was the crew chief aboard a UH-1H Iroquois (tail number 67-17595) on a command and control mission over Phuoc Long Province, Vietnam. The Iroquois was downed by enemy ground fire during the mission, and SP4 Smith was killed in the crash. Search and rescue teams were unable to recover his remains immediately following the incident, and enemy forces in the area prevented further search efforts.

In November 1994, a joint U.S. and Vietnamese investigative team recovered remains from a crash site associated with SP4 Smith’s Iroquois. In 1999, forensic analysis identified the recovered remains as those of SP4 Smith.

Specialist 4 Smith is memorialized on the Courts of the Missing at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific. His name is also inscribed along with all his fallen comrades on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, DC.

Medals

• Purple Heart
• National Defense Service Medal
• Vietnam Campaign Medal
• Vietnam Service Medal
• Army Presidential Unit Citation
• Vietnam Gallantry Cross
• Good Conduct Medal (AGCM)

 

We Remember

Roger Lee Smith is buried at Arlington Nat Cem. DFC AM/21 OLC PH

He is buried or memorialized at Courts of the Missing at the Honolulu Memorial. This is an American Battle Monuments Commission location.

Roger Lee Smith is honored on the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial in Washington DC. Name inscribed at VVM Wall, Panel 41w, Line 2.

Warlords— written 5.28.2012

“Smitty, I remember you as a red headed freckle faced kid. You were generous natured,unselfish, always protective of others as you were the day you flew the mission that took you away from us and spared my life that day. I only wished it had been me, instead of you. Love you always, brother. You will be forever in my thoughts, along with the other brothers we lost that day.”

God bless,
SP5 Ronald Dale Currie -117th Assault Aviation Company

Michael Lester “Mike” McCafferty

Michael Lester McCafferty was serving his country during the Vietnam War when he gave his all in the line of duty. He had enlisted in the United States Army. Entered the service via Regular Military. He began his tour on 23 September 1966. McCafferty had the rank of Specialist Five. His military occupation or specialty was Aircraft Maintenance Crewman. Service number assignment was 11448610. Attached to 1st Aviation Brigade, 214th Aviation Battalion, 12th Aviation Group, 117th Aviation Company.

He was born on 12 April 1947. According to records Massachusetts was his home or enlistment state and Essex county has been included within the archival record. We have Lynn listed as his city. During his service in the Vietnam War, Army Specialist Five McCafferty experienced a traumatic event which ultimately resulted in loss of life on 3 October 1968.

Medals

• Purple Heart
• National Defense Service Medal
• Vietnam Campaign Medal
• Vietnam Service Medal
• Army Presidential Unit Citation
• Vietnam Gallantry Cross
• Good Conduct Medal (AGCM)

 

We Remember

Michael McCafferty is honored on the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial in Washington DC. Name inscribed at VVM Wall, Panel 42w, Line 71.

His Burial- Saint Mary’s Cemetery Lynn, Essex County, Massachusetts
Plot- St. Thomas Ave, Section 463

Martin Edward Bixler

Martin Edward Bixler was serving his country during the Vietnam War when he gave his all in the line of duty. He had enlisted in the United States Army. Bixler had the rank of Warrant Officer. Service number assignment was 3159584. Attached to 1st Aviation Brigade, 214th Aviation Battalion, 12th Aviation Group, 117th Aviation Company.

He was born on 10 August 1947. According to records Pennsylvania was his home or enlistment state and York county has been included within the archival record. We have Glen Rock listed as his city. During his service in the Vietnam War, Army Warrant Officer Bixler experienced a traumatic event which ultimately resulted in loss of life on 3 October 1968. Recorded circumstances attributed to: Died through hostile action .. air crash on land. Incident location: South Vietnam, Tay Ninh province.

The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress July 9, 1918 (amended by an act of July 25, 1963), takes pride in presenting the Silver Star (Posthumously) to Warrant Officer Martin Edward Bixler (ASN: W-3159584), United States Army, for gallantry in action in connection with military operations involving conflict with an armed hostile force while serving with the 117th Assault Helicopter Company 214th Aviation Battalion, 1st Aviation Brigade, in the Republic of Vietnam on 3 October 1968.

Warrant Officer Bixler distinguished himself by exceptionally valorous actions while piloting a UH-1H helicopter on an urgent re-supply mission northwest of Tay Ninh. Due to the thick jungle growth, the desperately needed ammunition had to be thrown out of the aircraft while it hovered over a bomb crater. The aircraft was hit by enemy fire, crashed and burst into flames, pinning the aircraft commander underneath the wreckage. Upon freeing himself, Warrant Officer Bixler attempted to dislodge the aircraft commander, despite the intense enemy fire.

He gradually freed the aircraft commander from the burning ship, but was fatally wounded minutes later. Through his exceptional courage and devotion to duty, he saved the life of his aircraft commander. His actions were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself, his unit and the United States Army.

Medals

• Purple Heart
• National Defense Service Medal
• Vietnam Campaign Medal
• Vietnam Service Medal
• Army Presidential Unit Citation
• Vietnam Gallantry Cross
• Good Conduct Medal (AGCM)

 

We Remember

Martin Edaward Bixler is honored on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington DC. Name inscribed at VVM Wall, Panel 42w, Line 65.

His Burial: BETHELEM UNION CHURCH CEMETERY, STILZ, PA

James Edward Mann

On 03 Oct 1968, during Operation CHINA BOY VI, the 3rd Mobile Strike Force Command got into a heavy engagement about 13 kilometers southwest of Thien Ngon, Tay Ninh Province.

An emergency ammo resupply was called for, and the 117th Assault Helicopter Company responded. UH-1H tail number 67-17595 flew a dual mission, carrying both ammo and Captain James Mann, Det B-34 3rd MSFC A Co, 5th SF Group Operations Officer.

The Huey was hit hard as it approached for landing, collided with trees, and fell to the ground. The crew chief, SP4 Smith, was crushed beneath the fuselage, but the remaining three crewmen were able to exit the aircraft. Two were then killed by gunfire; only the pilot, CPT Arthur Frame, was rescued.

In early June 1999, several hundred bone fragments excavated from the crash site were positively identified as belonging to Mann and another member of the crew. And on the morning of July 13, 1999, following a funeral at Memorial Chapel, Fort Myer, VA, a horse-drawn carriage brought the remains to Arlington, where a 21-gun salute honored the heroes who had been away from home for too long. “It was a very emotional ceremony,” says Bill Mann. “It was a day that brought final closure for all of us.”

Medals

• Purple Heart
• Vietnam Service Medal (VSM)
• Armed Forces Reserve Medal (AFRM)
• Republic of Vietnam Civic Action Honor Medal
• Republic of Vietnam (RVN) Gallantry Cross Unit Citation
• Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal (RVNCM)
• National Defense Service Medal (NDSM)
• Good Conduct Medal (AGCM)
• Meritorious Unit Commendation (MUC)
• Army Presidential Unit Citation (PUC)
• Army Commendation Medal (ARCOM)
• Air Medal (AM)
• Bronze Star Medal (BSM)

 

We Remember

Name inscribed at Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall, Panel 42W, Line 70
His Burial: Saint Johns Cemetery Middletown, Middlesex, Connecticut

We Remember

Davis- Army Passenger

Little is recorded about him, but he lived through a moment that shaped the rest of his life. He carried the memory of the men who died beside him, and that too is a form of service.

 

A Truth Worth Preserving

This was not a random loss.
It was not an accident.
It was combat, in one of the most dangerous regions of Vietnam, during one of the most violent months of the war.
And Dale carried their memory — and the knowledge that he almost shared their fate — for the rest of his life. —This is why their names mattered so deeply to him — and why they must be preserved with accuracy, dignity, and honor.

~God Bless You, My Brother’s ~

SP4 Roger Lee “Smitty” Smith — 117th AHC- KIA
SP5 Michael Lester “Mike” McCafferty — 117th KIA
PWO1 Martin Edward Bixlar— 117th AHC- KIA
AC CPT Arthur T. “Tom” Frame— 117th AHC- RES
CPT James Edward Mann— 5th Special Forces Group (Airborne)- passenger – KIA
Davis — Army passenger, unit not specified- RES

 

What They Shared

They stepped into the Huey knowing the risks.

They flew into a firefight because others needed them.

They fought to save each other until the very last breath.

Their story is not only about how they died.

It is about how they lived—with courage, sacrifice, loyalty, and devotion to one another.

It is about the kind of bravery that happens in seconds but is remembered for generations.

The Huey they flew is gone.

The jungle they fell into has grown back.

But the way they lived—and the way they died—remains.

They were soldiers.

They were brothers.

And on October 3, 1968, they gave everything they had for one another.

 

Legacy

Specialist 5 Ronald Dale Currie served with disinction in the 1st Aviation Brigade, 214th Aviation Battalion, 117th Assault Helicopter Company as UH-1 Huey mechanic and crew chief with the 117th Assault Helicopter Company, one of the most heavily engaged aviation units of the Vietnam War.

His hands kept helicopters flying, his eyes caught the problems no one else saw, and his presence on missions gave pilots confidence that their aircraft—and their lives—were in the best possible care. His pilots trusted him with their lives. His fellow crewmen trusted him with their own.

Crew chiefs were the backbone of Army aviation. Dale was one of the best. Dale became part of the lifeline that kept infantry units supplied, wounded soldiers evacuated, and Special Forces teams supported deep in contested territory.

Arriving in Vietnam in the late summer of 1968, Dale was assigned to the 117th AHC at Tây Ninh, a volatile region pressed against the Cambodian border. The company’s platoons — Little Annie Fannie, Pink Panthers, and Sidewinders — flew daily into areas marked by ambushes, anti‑aircraft fire, and some of the most dangerous terrain in III Corps.

“As a Warlord gunner, Dale lived by the creed that defined the platoon: Strike fast. Hit hard. Never leave a brother behind. It shaped every mission, every decision, and every bond he carried for the rest of his life.”

He began in foxholes carved into the jungles, soaked in rain, mud, and fear, learning the war one footstep at a time. Those early days shaped him, hardened him, and taught him what survival really meant.

For two separate three‑month intervals — six months total — Dale was assigned to support Special Forces Unit B‑36, a Green Beret B‑Team responsible for coordinating multiple operations in remote, hostile regions. These missions demanded precision, courage, and absolute trust..

During his time in Vietnam from 1968–1969 working alongside Special Forces detachments demanded absolute trust, secrecy, and courage. Those months exposed him to the war’s most dangerous edges—remote camps, deep‑jungle operations, and missions where survival depended on instinct, teamwork, and quiet bravery.

From the open door of a Huey, Dale saw the war in a way few ever could.
He watched villages scarred by fire, treelines hiding danger, columns of smoke rising from battles still unfolding, and the desperate movements of men fighting to survive on the ground below.

The landscape became a living map of courage, fear, sacrifice, and loss.
That view stayed with him forever.

Dale rose into the air with the 117th’s iconic platoons Little Annie Fannie, The Pink Panthers, and The Sidewinders.These weren’t just call signs—they were families. They were identities. They were the men he trusted with everything he had.
Flying with Little Annie Fannie, he learned the rhythm of slick missions—fast, precise, and always under fire. With the Pink Panthers, he saw the grit of crews who carried troops into impossible landing zones and with the Sidewinders, he witnessed the fierce protection of gunship teams who guarded every lift, every extraction, every desperate call for help.

The 117th’s gun platoon, the Warlords, carried a crest that became their lived motto:
an armored fist gripping lightning bolts—strike fast, hit hard, never leave a brother behind. Dale absorbed that spirit. He lived it. He carried it long after the war ended.

On the morning of October 3, 1968, Dale offered to take the place of his friends—SP4 Roger “Smitty” Smith and SP5 Michael McCafferty—on a dangerous emergency resupply mission near Tây Ninh. They told him no.

Minutes later, their Huey—tail number 67‑17595—was shot down.

Smitty, McCafferty, WO1 Martin Bixler, and CPT James Mann were killed.

Only CPT Arthur “Tom” Frame and a passenger named Davis survived.

Dale carried that moment for the rest of his life. He never forgot that he tried to go to their place. He never forgot that they didn’t come home.

The loss of his brothers stayed with him. Some men bury their grief. Dale refused to.
He spoke their names.He told their stories. He kept their faces close, not hidden away.

The loss of his brothers remained with him every day—not as a wound that weakened him, but as a responsibility that shaped him.

He believed remembrance was a form of loyalty, and loyalty was the truest measure of a man. It became his legacy to continue telling the stories of the men who died—to make sure their courage, their sacrifice, and their humanity were never forgotten

Dale was not one for quiet resolve. He did not sit silently with his memories.
He lived them.He honored them.He shared them so others would understand the cost of service and the depth of the bonds formed in war.He spoke plainly, directly, and with the kind of honesty that only comes from someone who has seen life at its most fragile.

He did not hide from the past—he carried it with purpose.

Dale built a successful civilian career, grounded in the same qualities that defined his military service of precision and technical mastery. A reliability under pressure and a work ethic shaped by responsibility and pride with leadership through example, not rank.

Later in life, he became a docent at the Cavanaugh Flight Museum, where he stood beside the aircraft that defined his youth and taught visitors what the Huey meant to the men who flew it.

He used those moments to bring his brothers back into the world—one story, one memory, one visitor at a time.

Ronald Dale Currie’s legacy is not only in the missions he flew or the aircraft he kept in the air.

It is in the way he remembered.

It is in the way he honored the men who died on October 3, 1968.

It is in the way he stood with his fellow veterans.

It is in the way he lived a full, successful life without ever letting go of the ones who could not.

He was a soldier, a mechanic, a crew chief, a storyteller, a veteran among veterans, and a guardian of memory.

And he proved, every day, that love for one’s brothers‑in‑arms does not fade—it deepens.