Vietnam – The ExhaustNotes Blog

ExNotes Review: The 600 m.o.l. Black Helicopter Pilots in Vietnam

By Joe Berk

This is the first of several book reviews to follow in the next few weeks. The 600 m.o.l. Black Helicopter Pilots in Vietnam is the true story of the second wave of Tuskegee Airmen. The first wave included the Black aviators who flew combat missions in World War II. There have been movies made about those men and their accomplishments are well known. The second wave refers to Tuskegee airmen trained to be helicopter pilots by the famed Alfred Anderson, who trained the first wave for World War II. Their exploits and the paths they blazed are not nearly as well known.

I happened on to The 600 m.o.l. Black Helicopter Pilots in Vietnam as a result of visiting one of the pilots featured in the book, a man who was my first boss when I was in the Army in Korea.

The story is fascinating on many levels, not the least of which is the story of the author, Dr. Joe Ponds. He was one of the more or less (that’s where the “m.o.l.” comes from) 600 Black helicopter pilots in Vietnam who flew Huey and Cobra gunships during that war. The book begins with the author’s end in sight: A cancer diagnosis with only a few months left to live.

What do you do with what is essentially a death sentence diagnosis? Dr. Joe Ponds decided to tell the story of the Black helicopter pilots who flew in Vietnam. Theirs was not an easy path. They faced institutionalized racism and discrimination in both civilian and Army life. These men managed to overcome limits imposed by others and they became U.S. Army aviators.

The 600 m.o.l. Black Helicopter Pilots in Vietnam covers seven major topics:

- A brief history of discrimination in America and efforts to overcome it.
- Dr. Pond’s experiences in gaining a officer’s commission in the US Army, and then becoming a helicopter pilot.
- A discussion of the different types of helicopters flown in Vietnam.
- A review of the kinds of helicopter missions in Vietnam.
- Stories from several Black aviators featured in the book. All were interesting, especially the ones who flew medevac helicopters. Those helicopters flew with no armament whatsoever, and they were literally sitting (or hovering) ducks when they flew in to retrieve wounded soldiers.
- A list of the approximately 600 Black aviators who served in Vietnam.
- A chapter describing how Dr. Ponds’ cancer went into remission and his subsequent activities on several fronts, including mentoring young people, counseling, helping first responders cope with post-traumatic stress syndrome, motivational speaking, and more.

The 600 m.o.l. Black Helicopter Pilots in Vietnam was a great read. I know you’ll enjoy it.

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Meet Bobbie Surber, our newest ExNotes writer

By Joe Berk

A couple of months ago Joe Gresh wrote a blog seeking new writers. We picked up Mike Huber, who we already knew from a couple of guest blogs, we have another guy who may come on board (more about that when it’s confirmed), and most recently, Bobbie Surber agreed to join the ExNotes team.

Bobbie’s Tiger. Blue is the fastest color on a Triumph.

Bobbie is the real deal. She raised four daughters, she’s a construction manager, she’s a rider, and she’s a writer. I know Bobbie rode a G 310 GS BMW all over Baja, she rides a blue Triumph Tiger these days (I used to ride a blue Triumph Tiger, so I know she has good judgement), and she did the Vietnam adventure ride with Mike Huber (a ride you read about on these pages).

Bobbie on her BMW GS in Monument Valley.

Bobbie is an adventurer and she writes well. She will be bringing stories to us on all the above and more, and to start, Bobbie is writing a series on hiking the famed Camino de Santiago across Spain, Portugal, and France. The first installment of this European adventure is going in the queue in the next few days, and I think you will enjoy it. I sure did.

Stay tuned; as always, there are more good stories coming your way.

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Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 7

By Mike Huber

With Mai Chau being in our rear view mirrors, we just had one challenge left to overcome as riders in Vietnam: The chaotic traffic in the massive capital city of Hanoi. This was something we were both mentally prepared for and we had watched videos to somewhat provide us an idea on what to expect, but it would take more than me honking my little pink horn to navigate through this massive Asian city. As we rolled down the CT08 Highway into Hanoi the road didn’t seem too hectic, although I bounced off a car once or twice due to the limited real estate on the road.

Exiting the highway and entering surface streets the traffic increased exponentially, and we were separated several times. This was exactly why we had brought the Sena headsets, whereas in America we would never have even thought of using these devices. The road was about four American lanes wide, but it was easily fitting 8 to 12 vehicles on average. The vehicles ranged from Terminators, to cars, to little motos like ours, and everyone was cutting in and out constantly.

Another valuable driving lesson we learned was don’t drive defensively, but instead drive with purpose and intent. In doing so you will fit into the chaos and become part of the herd. Any second guessing yourself, braking, or quick acceleration will cause a ripple effect. That action will initiate others to stutter step and will most likely result in an accident; this was something we would rather avoid. Having mounts for our phones was another tip that proved invaluable. We could simply set our directions into it and place the phone in airplane mode to preserve the battery. Google Maps would remain on and guide us through these crowded streets filled with threats and obstacles.

Even with the GPS reliably guiding us through the madness we were rerouted several times due to the amount of traffic, getting split up, or having to focus on the many distractions that came in every form from every angle. Negotiating the rotaries was like entering a swarm of bees and trying to fit into our own little pocket without disrupting thousands of others that were searching for the same sanctuary in the lunacy. Upon arriving safely at our rental moto return point, we dismounted from our reliable steeds. They had been our life preservers over the past three weeks and 1,000+ miles through the concrete and plant jungles of this magnificent country.

Reflections

This journey through Vietnam, as with most journeys, was challenging mentally, physically, and especially emotionally. Vietnam reassured our feelings that the division between cultures and former enemies can be cured. Time provides a buffer between the anger and hatred and former times. One given about traveling is at times it can appear as though you go backward or forward in time. At that moment when Bobbie held the lady’s head and helped her in her final moments that lesson took hold in me. Helping a North Vietnamese would have been considered treason 70 years ago, but now it was not only the right thing to do but it a welcome gesture. Hours after the accident and thinking through it gave me hope that the political division in our country will be repaired. We are one people and our minor differences are indeed that: Minor. We sometimes tend to focus on the differences when we should be focused on the similarities.

Take the Iwo Jima photo above. We were riding by and a lady waved us down. They were planting a tree and were stuck, so I ran over without even taking off my helmet as it started to fall. We fixed it. A tree grows in Vietnam, and we helped.

I hope all of you reading this series enjoyed the read and were able to take something positive away from our experiences in Vietnam. I appreciate your support and you reading my writing. Thank you and be safe.

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Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 4

By Mike Huber

By Day 3 we were fully acclimated to the roads, food, and culture and it was now time to start taking on more challenging rides. The next day entailed leaving Hoi An to continue north to Hue for a couple days. Along the way we detoured to experience riding across the Hai Van Pass. According to locals this was one of the best motorcycle roads in the country if not all of Asia.

As we entered the Pass there was a police road stop and I was waved over instantly. “Ahhh, I’ve got this” I thought, thinking I would just play the dumb tourist and skate out of any ticket. Well…it half worked. As soon as I began performing my best “sad tourist, I don’t speak Vietnamese” act the officer pulled out his phone with Google Translator. “Shit,” I thought, this isn’t going to turn out too great. Within a couple minutes another officer was called over. “Dammit!” I now thought, this definitely isn’t how it is supposed to go down. It turns out I simply meandered into a lane that wasn’t designated for motos. The other reason was that the officers wanted to honk the pink horn attached to my moto and take some photos with me. That was pretty cool.

Once our introductions to the local authorities were wrapped up we continued to the base of the Hai Van Pass. By this time, we felt very comfortable in our abilities riding in Vietnam. It was just like riding a local road in the US: Leaning, feeling, and embracing each moment while blasting (blasting for a 150cc bike, by the way) into the corners while traversing the mountain passes. As soon as we gained our confidence in riding in this country, we received a big wake up call. This was in the form of trucks passing recklessly on blind corners. I labeled these trucks “Terminators” based on my experience driving Humvees near the DMZ in Korea. It didn’t take long before I took the lead and would shout over our Sena headsets to forewarn what was around the next turn: “Clear,” or in many cases “Get to the side of the road, NOW!”

After completing the Hoi An Pass, we hit a new alertness level. A rule of thumb became that around every corner expect a Terminator to be coming at you head on and always have a sure path of egress when (not if) they did. This stayed with us as our Hondas continued winding north to the Hoh Chi Minh Trail.

These cautionary actions didn’t mean we weren’t having fun. As we entered the city of Hue, I noticed the bike was riding quite rough as if the shock was just gone. It turns out that my showing off for the locals in traffic by performing wheelies and endos had caused the shock to go a bit sooner than anticipated and fluid was leaking out. It was time to find a repair shop as this wasn’t something that would be tolerable for another 900+ miles. Fortunately, Hue is a large city and while working with our rental company, Tigit, they quickly referred us to a local mechanic named Mr. Kim. As I explained the situation to him (I left out the wheelie part) I could hear all the mechanics honking the pink horn on my bike in the back. One thing about Vietnam: They get things done, and fast. Within two hours Mr. Kim had rebuilt the shock and “bike all fixed, Mr. Hooba, no more bouncy bouncy.” Upon arrival to pick up the bike I continued to hear the honking of my horn in the back of the shop prior to them rolling it out. The shock was repaired, and we could continue the ride with a few less wheelies along the way.

With another obstacle (self-induced) behind us we continued to Khe Sanh. Khe Sanh looks as though it hasn’t changed one bit since the war. Gray concrete buildings line the streets, the smell of smoke from trash burning hung in the air, there were very few shops, and there were even fewer people along the main street through the center of town. To add to this gloomy scenario, it was a dark cloudy day, and we were freezing from the ride. The hotel we stayed in even had a chill that refused to leave and stayed with us all evening. I began thinking about the soldiers that fought here 50 years ago and what their opinion of this town was, both then and now. Our night was short and after eating a warm bowl of pho we returned to the hotel. We planned a longer ride the next day, and we wanted to be fully rested as we wandered deeper into this country of never-ending adventure.

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If you missed Parts 1, 2, and 3 of the Vietnam ride, here they are:

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Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 3

By Mike Huber

It was December 2018, and we were in Da Nang, Vietnam. Our steeds for this trip consisted of two Honda Winner 150cc motorcycles and we were ready to begin our adventure. My moto had been fully decked out in a colorful light with bells, horns, and streamers. With our route defined as northernly it was time to fire off this trip. We did this by starting in the wrong direction (south), and the reason for that was Hoi An was close to Da Nang . There was a full moon festival happening there. This was something not to be missed.

Arriving in the bustling town of Hoi An late in the day we noticed that the roads had been closed in a perimeter around our Home Stay (Vietnamese version of Airbnb) due to the Full Moon Festival. The Home Stay was about a quarter mile away from the closest point we could get to. Leaving the bikes outside this perimeter wasn’t an option, nor was walking a quarter mile through the crowds with all our gear. Having lived in Boston for 16 years and with the mindset of a paratrooper, I shouted over the headset loud enough for Bobbie to hear me over the crowds growing for the festival: “Follow me! We’ll make this work.”

I clicked the bike into first geat and drove across the bridge to our Home Stay, on the sidewalk, and on the wrong side of the road while honking my favorite pink horn to alert those in our path that we were coming through. The smile on my face was one that I’ll never forget. This country was one of less rules and more of making it happen. I loved it! We made it to our Home Stay in time to unpack, catch our breath, and have a well-earned cold Saigon beer before heading out to find some chow.

Once properly hydrated from the Saigon beers, we walked the crowded streets of Hoi An as the glowing red sun began to set. We gazed over the beautiful Hoi An River. The river was filled with thousands of lanterns on tiny paper boats with candles paying respects to ancestors. This was a sight to behold. It was beautiful in every way. As the night wore on, our grumbling stomachs reminded us it was time to experiment with the Vietnamese cuisine.

Street vendors lined the alleys. All had interesting dishes ranging from octopus, to frogs that looked like Mr. Olympias (due to their muscles under the vendors’ lights), to the quail that were runner up to the frogs in the bodybuilding contests. Fried octopus seemed like the best choice. We ordered and sat at tables the same size used in preschool, with bright colors and flimsy plastic chair legs. The food was DELICIOUS and just what we needed after a successful first day of riding in this wonderful country.

Hoi An was an easy city to love, so it wasn’t a hard decision to extend our stay. One day entailed a full day of riding to a UNESCO Heritage World Site called My Son Temple. This is a collection of Hindu temples hidden in the mountains 25 miles west of Hoi An. The site was incredible, with temples half overrun by the jungle, yet still in pristine condition even though some of them are 600 years old. This location is deep in the jungle and as soon as we dismounted from our bikes we could feel the humidity. We spent much of the day exploring the ruins, with the overwhelming jungle darkness surrounding us. The ruins were a mystical place that we were fortunate to have stumbled upon.

On our return ride it was time to make food choices again. Choosing to stop at the first crowded place made sense. We soon discovered an establishment and radioed to each other that this looked acceptable. Instantly, all eyes were upon us as we sat down in a three-walled, white-paint-chipped open room. One thing we found in Vietnam wat that when you order food, you don’t always get what you asked for. Often you get what they have, even though they will nod their head to your request while saying “ya ya ya.” In this restaurant we kept it simple and ordered pho.

While waiting for our food we slowly drank a Hanoi beer that was warm (but much needed). We tried to act normal as the locals pointed at us and chuckled. Finally, our food arrived but instead of our requested pho, we received what appeared to be cold water buffalo meat wrapped in a type of Vietnamese lettuce, a dipping sauce of some sort, and a consommé. Eating with finesse isn’t my strong suit, and that became blatantly obvious. I was having issues making a wrap without having the meat spill out of the lettuce.

As all the patrons continued to stare at us an older lady came over to assist me in the proper way to prepare this dish, since I was clearly incapable of doing so myself. She began wrapping it tightly with her hands that were blackened with dirt from working in the rice fields earlier and successfully tightly rolled it for me to eat. While she was performing this task other patrons in the restaurant were walking around me to go on the other side of the wall from which I was sitting to use the “facilities.” With the sound of urine hitting the other side of the wall it was now time to finally eat my lunch. I bit into the wrap and noticed the meat was cold and I instantly thought it was raw and I’d get sick, but I still had to eat it to save face in front of everyone as they watched me chew each bite and swallow it. The many onlookers gazed upon me as I finished about 60% of the meal while washing it down religiously with Hanoi beer, thinking the alcohol might save me from becoming ill. For the next 12 hours I was in full on hypochondriac mode. I had about six false alarms during this time when I would bolt to the bathroom thinking I was about to have an accident. In hindsight this is funny, but at the time the threat of possibly having the runs while riding through Vietnam didn’t seem too humorous to me.

Returning to the Home Stay in Hoi An provided me with a bit of relief from my hypochondria and a chance to unwind. We had ventured out while learning more about the culture, the food, and the people. It was now time to map our next day’s ride, where we would correct our direction and return to moving north towards epic roads. With our gear fully organized and the bikes prepped, we called it an early night so we would be fresh for the next day.

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If you missed Parts 1 and 2 of the Vietnam ride, here they are:

- Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 1 – The ExhaustNotes Blog
- Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 2 – The ExhaustNotes Blog

Good Morning, Vietnam!

It was one of those crazy motorcycle adventure moments when a chance encounter leads to a lasting friendship. I was leading a group of maybe 10 guys on CSC RX3 motorcycles in Baja and we stopped to buy bottled gas from the capitalists along the Transpeninsular Highway in Cataviña. It was a crowded scene with two or three Bajaenos pouring gas from plastic water jugs into our motorcycles with bikes and bodies tightly crowded around. That’s when I noticed a tailpack on one of the bikes that looked different from the rest of our RX3s, and suddenly the difference hit me: It was bigger than the others and it had jump wings on the back.

Jump wings? That’s odd, I thought. I didn’t think any of the guys I was riding with was a fellow former paratrooper. That’s when I met Mike Huber. He hadn’t been riding with us; he just happened to get mixed into our group at the Catavina fuel stop.

Mike is a cool guy with a cool lifestyle. Most recently, that included a moto trip across Vietnam with his girlfriend, Bobbie. Mike published a story in ADVMoto, a magazine that has previouly published work by yours truly and Joe Gresh. Mike’s Vietnam adventure is here. I enjoyed reading it and I think you will, too.

One of these days, I keep thinking to myself. Vietnam must be one hell of a motorcycle destination. Good buddies Buffalo and his cousin Tim also rode Vietnam, and you can read that story here. It’s weird…I met both of those guys on a CSC Baja ride, too!

The best bikes for Baja? It’s all right here!