26 January 2002
Subject: My Friend Reavis
Dear Ones,
This past week a rather emotional thing happened to me. I
received an e-mail message from the only son of my good friend who was
killed in action in the Republic of Vietnam on 5 June 1966. The son, Hugh Reavis
"Tripp" Nelson III, was one year old the day his father, Reavis, was
killed. Tripp's message released a flood of emotions from the past as he
reminded me of a letter I had written to him from Vietnam at the time I found
out about his father's death.
Tripp's e-mail to me read, in part: "Many years ago I
was given a copy of the letter that you wrote to my mother in 1966 and
I have kept it ever since. Throughout the years I have had other relatives
send me additional copies which I have been grateful for. It was very kind
of you to think of me when my father passed away."
I called Leavon into my office to read Tripp's e-mail
and asked her if she remembered the letter I had written to him more than 35
years ago. She said she remembered the letter and recalled the Chaplain using
parts of it during the funeral service for Reavis which she attended in
Arlington National Cemetery. She said that I had sent her a carbon copy of the
letter from Vietnam in 1966 and then promptly retrieved her yellowed
copy from the family safe. Before you read the letter, allow me to tell you
a bit about my friend, Hugh Reavis Nelson, Jr.
I first met Reavis in 1964 when he and I both attended the
Field Artillery Officer's Career Course at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma. We were
assigned to the same Class Section and quickly became good friends. Reavis
hailed from Rocky Mount, NC, was married to a lovely lady named "Chi"
and was the father of two little girls, Debbie and Margaret. After Ft. Sill, we
traveled with our families to Ft. Bliss, TX for another phase of our schooling.
Upon graduation from the FA Career Course in early 1965, we were delighted to
find out that both of us would be heading to an assignment at Ft. Bragg, NC.
There we continued our friendship, visiting in each other's homes and enjoying
each other's company. It was in North Carolina, Reavis' home State, that
young Tripp was born on 5 June 1965.
In the Fall of 1965, my unit headed to Vietnam and I said
goodbye to my dejected friend. I say that because Reavis was very disappointed
that he wasn't going to Vietnam at the same time I was. He called his Assignment
Officer in Washington and volunteered for Vietnam. They told him he would be
going to Vietnam in due time, but first they wanted him to attend helicopter
"Gunship School" at Ft. Rucker, AL.
Soon after his "gunship" training, Reavis deployed
to Vietnam in early January 1966 and, upon arrival, immediately got in
touch with me. I had been in-country for three months now and had moved from
living in a tent with a dirt floor to much better accommodations. I
"rescued" Reavis from the tent city where he was staying during his
in-processing, moved him in with me and, then, we immediately headed out to
find a good Chinese restaurant. I should mention that Reavis and Chi
had previously served a tour in Taiwan and prided themselves in preparing the
most scrumptious of Chinese dinners for Leavon and me when we visited their
quarters at Ft. Bragg.
During this first Chinese dinner together in Vietnam, Reavis
and I made plans to take our R & R Leave together. We would meet Chi and
Leavon in Tokyo in early July. We both wrote home about our plans so the wives
could start making their travel arrangements. We were so looking forward to
spending a week together with our wives someplace outside the combat zone. Talk
about our upcoming trip was a featured part of most of our letters home for
the next several months.
After Reavis finished his in-processing and in-country
orientation, he was assigned to an Artillery Group Headquarters in Tay Ninh
Province about an hour's flying time from were I was stationed. He was assigned
as the Command Pilot for the FA Group Commander, but he didn't like his job at
all. He was flying fixed-wing aircraft, hauling his Colonel around on visits to
subordinate and higher headquarters, and wanted to get out of that
"starched-wing" bird and into the seat of a helicopter gunship. After
all, wasn't that what the Army sent him to school for?
Reavis and I saw each other on several occasions when he
flew into the base where I was stationed. He told me, repeatedly, he wanted
to go where the "real action" was. He said he wanted to go to the 1st
Cavalry Division (Airmobile), which just months earlier had been involved in hot
and heavy battles in the infamous Ia Drang valley in Vietnam's Central
Highlands. I told Reavis he should leave good enough alone and stay where he
was, but it was not to be. It was not long before Reavis informed me he was
being assigned to a Helicopter Gunship unit down in the Mekong Delta area of
South Vietnam. He was elated that he would now be doing the job for which he was
trained... and would finally see the "real action" he sought. I wished
him well and reminded him that it wouldn't be too long before we would be
going on R & R to meet our wives in Tokyo. It was the last time, I saw
Reavis alive.
Reavis' helicopter was shot out of the sky on Sunday
morning, 5 June 1966 in the Mekong Delta region of South Vietnam. After the
helicopter crashed, Reavis dragged an
injured crewmember out of the wreckage and shielded the person's body with his own. He
was wounded several times by enemy fire before he was killed. The co-pilot and
the two crewmembers of Reavis' helicopter were
rescued and lived to tell of the heroic action of my friend, Reavis.
Reavis was killed on the morning of 5 June, but I didn't
find out about his death until the next evening. I felt a need to record my
personal feelings in a letter to his family that same night and chose to write
to Tripp in an attempt to tell him about the father he would never get to
know. The letter was originally handwritten, but typewritten the next
morning after I arrived at work in my headquarters.
Saigon, Vietnam
6 June 1966
Dear
Tripp,
I am writing this letter to you as a friend of your father, Captain Hugh
Reavis Nelson, Jr. About one hour ago, I was informed that your father was
killed in action yesterday morning at about 0915 hours in the Delta area south
of Saigon in the Republic of Vietnam. I understand that his helicopter was shot
down and that your father was fired upon and killed by the Viet Cong while
shielding, with his own body, a wounded member of his crew.
I am writing this letter to you in a state of shock and disbelief, but I
cannot wait to let you know that tonight my bleeding and broken heart goes out
to you, to your sisters, Debbie and Margaret, and to your loving mother, Chi,
who will undoubtedly suffer most from this tragedy.
Although I have only known your father for slightly less than two years,
I consider him as one of my best friends. As a close and personal friend of your
father, I inquired tonight as to the possibility of my escorting your father’s
body back to the United States. I was told, however, that it would be impossible
for me to do so. I regret that I can do nothing more for your father, or for his
family, at a moment like this.
Tripp, I fully realize that at the present time, you are too young to
know or understand what has happened, but I want so very much to tell you about
the father you never really had a chance to know. I will ask your mother to save
this letter until such time as you can read and understand it.
Tripp, your father was a brave and courageous man. He died a hero’s
death. He gave his life while protecting a fallen comrade. Greater love hath no
man than to lay down his life for a friend.
Tripp, your father was a firm believer in what he was doing in this war.
He was committed to the cause of freedom in a country halfway around the world
from you. Freedom from aggression, freedom from intimidation, freedom from fear,
and freedom to choose one’s own way of life is what your father was fighting
for, and those God-given freedoms are what your father died trying to protect.
He gave his life so that you, and others like you, could live under freedom’s
flag unfurled.
Tripp, your father loved life and immensely enjoyed living every minute
of it. He was full of fun and he just couldn’t wait until you were old enough
to join him in a game of pitch and catch in the backyard or make the rounds with
him on the golf course. If man’s life could be equated to a simple game of
golf, then your father surely scored a hole-in-one on every hole.
It has been said repeatedly that no human being is perfect, but, Tripp, I
could find no faults in your father. He was an ideal father for you and your
sisters, and a dedicated husband to your mother. He was understanding and kind.
He was the kind of person after whom every boy could beneficially pattern his
own life. Your father was an outstanding Army officer with great potential.
His military code was duty, honor, country. He died serving his country,
living that code. Tripp, above all, he was a man -- as fine a man as God ever
breathed life into.
I am honored just to have known him for a short two years.
Captain, Artillery
United States Army
May your soul rest in eternal peace....
Reavis, my friend.
Don