Our squadron, HMM-165, left Ky Ha in increments up to Danang for the flight to Okinawa. This was in Sept. 1967. We assembled around the little terminal waiting for our civilian plane to pick us up for the 'Grand Flight." It was late. And it was getting later and later, like about midnight. Then we really started to get anxious, as that was around the traditional time that Danang Airbase would have the rocket attacks. We had had our fill of many attacks during our tour and just wanted to get out of there in the worst way. We had been lying around on the concrete, and then as the time passed we started to get up and walk around getting even more anxious as the time passed 0100.
Then about 0130 our 'freedom bird" arrived. The plane unloaded the new arrivals, from all the services; they were dressed in Class A uniform and looked kind of funny, but clean. We were in jungle utilities, somewhat dirty and needing a shave. They couldn't get off that aircraft fast enough to suit us. They walked down the ramp wide eyed and excited about arriving in Vietnam. We started to crowd around the boarding ramp, must have looked a little like an uncontrolled mob. We just knew that even with being close enough to almost touch our "chariot to heaven" that the VC was going to ruin everything by a damn rocket attack.
But it didn't happen. Thank God! We climbed aboard the plane and shortly we lifted off and were on the first leg home. Some cheered but I mostly remember an enormous feeling of relief…that it was over. We processed at Camp Hansen, Okinawa, for only a couple of days. I don't remember going ashore at all. There was a 24-hour "O" club bar next to the BOQ's and that’s where we went to unwind.
We flew by Air Force transport directly to MCAS El Toro where our families waited. I remember how quiet it was on the aircraft as we started our descent into El Toro after the long flight. The seemingly endless approach finally ended with the thump of the wheels on the runway, and then the cheers started! Lots of excited talk, babbling really, as we tried to look out the tiny windows for a glimpse of our families as the aircraft taxied to the small base terminal.
My wife Bente was there, looking as beautiful as she did when I saw her the last time, 13 months before. In those days people still dressed up for special occasions. One small thing I will never forget. There were lots of happy families milling around chattering and hugging, and as Bente and I were leaving, through the crowd I saw the wife of one of our Marines that had been KIA. I don't know why she was there, but I can only imagine the loneliness and pain she must have felt at that moment.
Captain Thomas Mix USMC Retired