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One morning, when I was stationed at base operations in Subic, I had a telephone call. A Filipino shipyard worker had died during the night-shift, on the job at the navy repair facility, apparently of natural causes. But to cover our backsides, the shipyard wanted to fly the body to Clark Air Force Base for autopsy by a pathologist. Just to make sure. So I called one of the many helicopter pilots I had become acquainted with to set the flight up. The pilot said “No problem, just put the body in a body bag, and we’ll strap him into one of the UH-I’s seats (the helicopter workhorse of Vietnam), call it a training flight, and do the deal.” So, I called the shipyard, told them what to do, and went back to my morning cup of coffee. A few minutes later, the admiral’s Aid called, to tell me that the admiral’s driver, a marine corps sergeant with three Purple Hearts from combat in Vietnam, was going to be charged with some minor legal offense by his Philippine girlfriend, in order to keep him in the Philippines, instead of returning to his wife in the US. The admiral wanted to get him to Clark and en route home ASAP to avoid bi-lateral US-Philippine embarrassment. So I called the pilot to tell him he would have a second passenger. No problem, I went back to my coffee. A few minutes later, I got a call from the marine corps captain who was in charge of the brig. He had a soldier stressed out from combat in Nam, high on unknown drugs, and violent. He wanted to get him out of the brig, and send him back to the US. So I called the helicopter pilot again to inform him of his third passenger. He agreed to take him, if he was put in a straight jacket and leg irons, and accompanied by a an armed guard. A reasonable requirement, because passengers had access to the pilots in UH1 “Hueys”. I still wonder what the air force airman thought as he slid open the door of that Huey when it landed at Clark.
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