BAM! - The Basic Air Medal

 

Back in the late 1960s, Army rules and regulations dictated that the Air Medal for Meritorious Service (seen below) would be awarded for 25 hours of combat assault missions and 50 hours of direct combat support. That meant, basically, that for every 100 hours of combat assault flying time, the air crewman would receive four Air Medals. This explains why the helicopter crews who completed a yearlong tour in Vietnam came home with, literally, dozens of Air Medals. The record for the highest number of Air Medals, I believe, was a general officer with multiple tours at a lower grade, with 125.

But this isn’t about that, but about the Basic Air Medal, which would be the first award after completing the 25 hours of flight time… or, as things went, about a week of combat assaults.

I had been assigned to the Hornets for several weeks, had the orientation flights to show me the local area, given the check rides to ensure that I have the proper skills, and had been integrated into the flight. Looking at my flight records, I reached that goal in the first few days of October, 1969.

Although I don’t remember exactly, I believe that an officer’s meeting was held in the club every night. These were often short, just a few points about the missions of the day and what to expect the next. Sometimes there were special events but most meetings were routine.

In late October, there was an added feature. A small number of us, who had arrived in September were called forward. We were awarded the Basic Air Medal because we had achieved the required 25 hours of combat assault flight time. I was there, with, two or three others.

Once the awards had been presented, we were introduced to another of the Hornet traditions… the Flaming Mimi. This was an alcoholic beverage of our choice, poured into a shot glass and set on fire. I was 19 at the time and it was illegal for me to drink, except, of course, on military reservations and in Vietnam.

The first guy took his drink and downed it, leaving a swirl of fire in the bottom of the glass. The perfect Flaming Mimi outcome. There was wild applause.

I didn’t do so well. I instinctively huffed through my nose, putting out the fire. When I finished, there was no fire at the bottom of the glass and cries that I had cheated. I had to do it again.

I was given another shot glass filled with bourbon; it was set on fire. I hesitated and someone shouted, “Better drink it before it gets too hot.”

I tried again and failed again. There were calls for me to try again and I was handed another shot glass filled to the brim. And when I finished there was no fire at the bottom of the glass.

Of course, they wanted me to do it again. After the fourth time someone said, “He’s getting too many free drinks.”

“He’s smarter than he looks.”

About the only other thing I remember is that things were getting fuzzy and I’d lost the feeling in my face. I sat down abruptly and the company commander took pity on me and declared that I would not have to down any more bourbon. At least, I think that was what happened… after all, I didn’t have a great deal of experience in drinking straight shots of bourbon in the space of about ten minutes.

The tradition ended several weeks later when one of the pilots, recipient of an award, I don’t remember what, managed to set himself on fire. The alcohol streamed down from the side of his mouth and ignited his nylon shirt. They put out the fire before he was seriously burned but no one thought it a good idea to set the pilots on fire. We were stretched thin enough as it was.

For those interested in such things, I earned another three Air Medals in October, but I wouldn’t receive the Oak Leaf Clusters then. It would be long after I left Vietnam that I would receive the certificate with the full accounting.