VN: Just as you went shopping for a branch of the military that would let you fly, most of the people in your film also commented, I just wanted to learn how to fly. Jellerson: That was interesting. I wrote the base line for this script before we interviewed anybody, thinking that once we got through the interviews, it would change dramatically. It didn’t. We could have called it The Common Experience. It was amazing how many of us had felt exactly the same — we’re not sure about that war, but we do know that we’re probably gonna end up going, and I’ve always wanted to be a pilot [anyway]. It is the best way, far better than learning to fly in civilian life. Of course, there’s the price. In civilian life, you just pay cash; with military, there’s a higher price. But it’s a far better education for a pilot.

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VN: How so?

Jellerson: It’s more intense, there’s more depth. Nothing is taken for granted. They actually teach you in military flying that, even though the odds are against an engine failure, you’re to expect one at any time. During flight training, without telling you in advance, they would just turn the engine off. What are you going to do? Oh, you hadn’t counted on this? That’s too bad, because now your engine’s dead. Statistically the engines almost never fail, but it’s that constant If there’s anything to go wrong, it’s gonna happen now; what would you do? I don’t think civilian pilots get that. I knew I’d have to go once I got my notice, but I went to the Air Force and the Marines and the Navy to see if they would teach me to fly. They all required four years of college at that time. The strange thing is, because of the demands of that war, about three or four weeks after I got into the Army, the Marines and Navy dropped their requirements to two years, too, so I could have flown fixed-wing.

VN: Were you disappointed that you were going to learn to fly helicopters?

Jellerson: At the time — but like a lot of things that happen in life, it was far better for me. It’s much more difficult to fly helicopters, so if you learn to fly that first, flying fixed-wing later is very easy.

VN: Tell me about your experience with flight school.

Jellerson: Well, we were trained to be officers and pilots at the same time, so we were simultaneously taking flight training and officer training. But the officers we were designed to be were warrant officers, which is a very specific duty. You’re not in command of anything but a helicopter or a flight; you can’t be in charge of anybody outside your aircraft, so your flight crew is your command. The warrant officers were created because they needed so many pilots over there that it was the best way to fill that need.

VN: Where were you trained?

Jellerson: At that time, basic flight school was at Fort Walters, Texas. Everything is done now at Fort Rucker, Ala. As a matter of fact, Fort Rucker trains helicopter pilots from all corners of the world….I think our Navy has the only helicopter pilots in the military, anywhere, that aren’t trained at Fort Rucker.

VN: Tell me about your Vietnam experience.

Jellerson: I flew in the 116th Assault Helicopter Company at Cu Chi in 1969. Cu Chi, about 20 flying minutes north of Saigon, was in the III Corps. Combined with the IV Corps, these two areas consisted of roughly the southern half of South Vietnam. We were what they call a lift and assault helicopter company. The Hornets — the 116th — flew Bell D and H model Hueys as slicks or troop carriers. We had the slightly smaller B and C model Hueys as gunships. As the flight of four to nine slicks would begin their combat insertion, carrying six or so infantry each, a solo D-model flew in, laying down a layer of smoke against the tree line to hide the landing. This was the Smokie. The four- to nine-ship flight of slicks, plus two to three gunships flying cover and Smokie, worked together every day inserting and extracting troops. We were what they referred to as a bastard outfit. We didn’t have higher-ups, so we would fly every mission that came down the pike. One day we’d be flying for the 1st Cav, ’cause their ships were down, the next day we’d be flying for the Navy, picking up some of their people. We’d fly a lot of single-ship missions. We flew long-range patrols out into the middle of the bush, in the middle of the night. We flew Cambodian mercenaries, 12-year-old kids and 80-year-old men with some of the oldest rifles I’ve ever seen — and sticks! No matter what the mission was, we would fly it. Most units over there flew the same group every day; we were just constantly doing something new. And it was pretty nasty; I don’t remember but maybe two days in a row when we didn’t take fire. We lost a lot of people, a lot of ships. The next time I came back, like I said, I was General Abrams’ pilot. He lived in downtown Saigon, so did I. It was very nice, actually. I met all the heads of state, the vice president. I flew everybody who came into the country except Nixon and Bob Hope.

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