Buz Buzogany

When I graduated from college in 1964, the Vietnam War had already been going on for 9 years and would continue until 1975, another 11 years. Of course, I had no idea how long the war would continue, but I wanted to get started with my career.  

I majored in journalism and my first job was in Huron, South Dakota as Director of Publicity and Alumni Affairs at Huron College.  As part of the job, I taught a class in journalism, which also gave me a deferment from being drafted.

Well, after a year, I resigned and was accepted into graduate school at the University of Iowa, where I earned my master’s degree in public relations over the next 2 years. I was now 24 years old and ready to start my career, when I received my draft notice in 1967, shortly after returning to my hometown of Alliance, Ohio.  I knew my next stop would be Vietnam.

However, fate stepped in and changed my future.  My parents owned and operated a small grocery store in Alliance and just after I got home, they both came down with ailments that put them in the hospital, which meant I was deferred from the draft to run the store while they were recuperating. 

During that time, I visited my local Army recruiter and he told me that if I joined the army during the deferment period, I could request an assignment in public affairs, with my background.  So, I became a regular army enlistee, rather than a draftee, and was assigned to public affairs duty after Basic and Advanced Training.

 My duty assignment was at Fort Belvoir, just south of Washington, D.C.  Not a bad location for a single guy who had weekends free to roam the D.C. bars.  Ft. Belvoir was home of the Army’s Combat Developments Command, where future weaponry and tactics are developed and tested.

I wrote magazine and newspaper articles while at Ft. Belvoir and had a high rate of placements in hometown and national military and commercial publications.  ( May 1969 article in Army Digest ).  After 6 months, I received orders to report to Vietnam.

As I left the States, it was a time of turmoil, with Bobby Kennedy shot, riots in the streets against the War, and a general unrest in the country.

One incident in Vietnam came very close to ending my career…and my life.

A story for our Americal magazine was written about the “door gunners” who manned the machine guns out of both sides of the Huey helicopters in combat, while the pilots shot the guns and rockets in the front of the helicopters.

I needed photos of the door gunners to illustrate the article.  On a whim, I volunteered to take the photos.  I carried a camera with a long lens for capturing distance shots and a camera with a short lens to take the gunners in my helicopter. And since this was a “once in a lifetime”

opportunity …and I use that term now knowing that it could have been

just that… I also carried my personal camera and movie camera.

So…picture this… I have 4 heavy cameras hanging around my neck, a supply bag, and a canteen of water.  I am ready for the assignment!

On the day of the photo shoot, I was to report to the helicopter base, meet the pilot contact and be flown over the “free-fire” zone to take my pictures.  A free-fire zone means that that there are no friendly troops or civilians in the area, so that the firing of the weapons would only be for photo purposes.                                    

I traveled to the helicopter base, but all of the “choppers” had been called out for a mission and I was told to wait for them to return.  Not being familiar with the base, I was alone in the middle of a helicopter pad, with no one around to talk to or no shady area to rest while waiting for the gunships to return.

It was around lunch time and I had packed some c-rations, which are cans of various foods for field duty.  So, I opened a can of greasy chicken, a bag of crackers and a hard biscuit and dined on the Army’s finest cuisine, while I sat in the middle of a helipad in 98-degree heat.

Close to an hour later…or so it seemed… the helicopters returned to the base and I was told to hurry, gather my things, and get aboard.  The “free-fire zone” moves as the troops move and we needed to get there before our troops were back in the area.

The pilots were busy at the controls, so I didn’t have a chance to discuss where we were going or how long it would take to reach the “free-fire zone.”  I was enjoying the flight, thinking it would take a while to get to the designated free fire zone.

We were flying through a valley with high terrain on each side, when suddenly we were hit by gunfire from the ground!  A bullet hit the tail of our ship, about 3 feet behind where I was sitting!    This was no longer a set-up shot…. we were in combat!

The chopper immediately began making tight circles over the area where the shot was fired, causing the camera straps around my neck to twist closer and closer to my throat.

My hands were trembling to get the case off one of my cameras to take a shot of the door gunners in my ship…who, at this time, were letting loose with a barrage of gunfire.

I took 3-4 quick shots while the helicopter was making tight circles to train the guns and rockets on the spot where the shot had been fired.

There were no further shots from the ground…at least none that hit the helicopter…and the whole action took less than a few minutes before the helicopter pulled out of the spiral and headed away from the scene.

At this point, I am literally sweating bullets and hanging on to my seat with both hands.  No more pictures today!  I had no idea if the few shots I took were good or not.  Remember, we had to develop our film in those days.

We arrived back at the heliport.  I dizzily climbed out of the chopper with cameras still twisted around my neck and my legs wobbly.  My face must have been covered with sweat.

The pilot came back to me and with a smirk on his face and asked, “Well how did you like your first taste of combat?”

With that, the greasy chicken made another appearance on the tarmac!

After cleaning up a bit, I asked the pilot to take a photo of me pointing to the bullet hole, which was about 3 ft. from where I had been sitting.

It will always be the most vivid event of my year in Vietnam, and I am happy to report that one of my shaky photos of the door gunners was clear enough to use in the magazine.

I am proud of my service to the Americal Division in Vietnam and I am pleased that my tour of duty was recognized by the awarding of the Bronze Star Medal…and I quote from the citation.

Shortly after that experience, I rotated out of Vietnam and returned home…not to a crowd of demonstrators, but to the good people in my

hometown in Ohio. 

I wanted to surprise my parents, so I didn’t call my dad to pick me up at the airport.  I decided to hitchhike home instead.

I was picked up by a stranger who “thanked me for my service” and took me right to my home…and to my waiting parents at the grocery store.