Comments for Another vacant chair...

Another vacant chair...

2006-06-25T04:59:59Z

...in the 162d's extended family.

William K. Healey October 23, 1949 -- November 12, 2003 Platoon Leader, 162d Assault Helicopter Company: 70-71

Bill Healey walked the path to Fiddler's Green five years after he and his wife welcomed their daughter into the world -- and were given the news that he wouldn't live to see her grow to be a young lady.

It's not timely, but it's fitting. He was one of the good ones... In Memoriam.

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Comment from Eric Bray on 2006-06-29

2006-06-29T14:56:14Z

A Note from Bob Good: From:

Comment from Cricket on 2006-06-25

2006-06-25T22:42:26Z

Prayers here for her mother to be both parents and give her twice the love though half of her is gone...

Comment from AFSister on 2006-06-24

2006-06-25T03:46:56Z

damn. I'm so sorry, Bill. Sounds like he waited a long time to have a child, only to be snatched away from her 5 years later. That is SO sad. I know he's in good company though. I'll be saying a prayer or two or twenty for him and his family.

Comment from cw4(ret)billt on 2006-06-24

2006-06-24T20:46:47Z

Thank you, John. And from another helicopter pilot... If you are able save for them a place inside of you and save one backward glance when you are leaving for the places they can no longer go. Be not ashamed to say you loved them though you may or may not have always. Take what they have left and what they have taught you with their dying and keep it with your own And in time when men decide and feel safe to call war insane take one moment to embrace those gentle heroes you left behind. By Major Michael Davis O'Donnell, KIA in Cambodia while attempting to rescue a Special Forces Team that was about to be overrun.

Comment from John of Argghhh! on 2006-06-24

2006-06-24T15:30:18Z

The Helicopter Pilot In Vietnam I flew a craft, A Huey made by Bell Through missions made of boredom And sometimes living hell. We chopper pilots hauled the mail And Grunts we hauled by scores And often saw the grief that�s caused In mankind�s modern wars. When bullets flew no man could know Which one might kill a Friend But missions go, and work goes on Until the day�s work ends. Then there came tomorrow But nothing there had changed The names that fight the battle Were merely rearranged. And so again the war renewed And soldiers fought and bled And so it was my duty To medevac the dead. But later that same day The radio message spoke: A wounded Brother needed help A Huey His only hope. And so a mission of itself Began with heart and soul Its purpose was to save a Friend And try to make him whole. The war no longer mattered Though risks ahead were clear Our foe would aim to end our task To aid a Friend so dear. The nose dropped low as on we sped With purpose clear we�d strive And hope drew strength within us That our Friend was still alive. And so we came to find him There�s little else to say And he was saved among the lost Our victory for that day A pilot, yes, a soldier too I learned the truth of war And now I�ll pass it on to you So you will know the score. Soldiers do not fight the fight To justify war�s ends They labor long and fight and die To simply save their Friends. It�s important you remember How wars all come to be And who it was that sent our troops, �The People�, that is, �We�. And shame of shames upon you As we war on foreign lands If you think no stain is on you And no blood is on your hands.

Comment from V29 on 2006-06-24

2006-06-24T14:53:41Z

"Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Sad he has passed but glad that those who went before will greet him kindly. Fare thee well, soldier patriot... Be thou at peace.