When I close my eyes I see orange life vest, tan flight suits rolled down to our waist, oil and av-gas rags in hand wiping down the 34-D on the flight line at MMAF.

I hear the whop whop of the blades as they slice though the air and the smell of gun powder as the M-60 throws out one red tracer every fifth round.

The blood pounding in my veins as we charge into a hot zone with guns blazing, standing on the struts so we can fire as far forward as possible.
Grabbing the wounded to get them in as fast as possible. Pilots yelling get em in so we can make a fast exit from the zone. Now lets streak to Charlie Med, and go get some more.
GOD, TO DO THAT AGAIN
S/FJim Lynch