Vietnam War Pics And Memories

05/25/2026

He was only 19 when he chose to serve.
By 20, he was flying helicopters in the skies over Vietnam.💜🫡

Today we honor Terrance William “Terry” Nelson, a young Army aviator from Sacramento, California, whose life ended far too soon during the Vietnam War. 🇺🇸

Born on June 6, 1946, Terry joined the United States Army at a young age and trained to become a helicopter pilot — one of the most dangerous and demanding roles of the war. Serving with the 155th Aviation Company, 52nd Aviation Battalion, 1st Aviation Brigade, he flew missions that carried troops, supplies, and hope across the battlefields of South Vietnam.

On May 23, 1967, while flying with a fellow classmate, tragedy struck when their Huey helicopter suffered a catastrophic drive shaft failure, disconnecting the engine from the main transmission. Though Terry survived the initial crash, he later passed away from his injuries in the hospital.🥺

He was just 20 years old.🕊️

War does not only take lives in combat. Sometimes it claims them through the unforgiving risks faced every day by those who served in the air, on the ground, and everywhere in between. Terry’s sacrifice reminds us that every mission carried danger, and every serviceman carried courage.

Today, Warrant Officer Nelson rests at Odd Fellows Lawn Cemetery and Mausoleum in Sacramento, California, while his name lives forever on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., at Panel 20E, Line 91.

Gone too soon, but never forgotten.

Fly high forever, Warrant Officer Nelson. 🇺🇸

05/25/2026

05/24/2026

This Memorial Day Weekend, we're remembering the 58,000 brave souls who never returned from Vietnam.

God bless these heroes forever.

05/24/2026

13 years gone but never forgotten 💔 😢 🇬🇧

05/22/2026

Khe Sanh. Vietnam. 1968. The hills had become impossible to cross. Mortars landed without warning. Machine-gun fire pinned Marines into place. Moving even a few feet could bring incoming fire. When men were hit, many stayed where they fell. One Navy corpsman refused. Every time someone called for help, he moved. Not because it was safe. Because someone needed him. He crossed exposed ground again and again to reach wounded Marines. He dragged injured men back by their gear. He treated wounds under pressure. He crawled when standing became impossible. Then he went back out. Again. By the end of the day, he had made 12 separate trips into danger. Twenty-three Marines survived because he kept returning. The men around him told him to stop. They told him he had already done enough. He refused. Someone was still out there. So he went one more time. On the 13th run, enemy fire reached him. This time, there was no return. The corpsman d*ed where he had spent the day trying to keep others alive. The siege continued. History books would later focus on tactics, commanders, and maps. But Marines remembered something smaller. A medic who kept standing up when every instinct said stay down. Not because of rank. Not because of recognition. Because when wounded men needed help, he kept moving until he could not anymore. He did not change the war. He changed 23 lives. Story based on historical records. This post is for educational purposes.

05/21/2026

Before he became a television star, Larry Wilcox was just another young Marine trying to survive Vietnam.

At 19 years old, Wilcox enlisted in the United States Marine Corps, following the example of his older brother. By 1967, he was serving in Vietnam as a Field Artillery specialist with the 12th Marine Regiment, operating in dangerous combat zones near D**g Ha and the Demilitarized Zone during some of the war’s most violent fighting.

This photograph captures him before Hollywood, before fame, before television audiences knew his name.

Just a young Marine wearing a steel helmet, standing in a war that changed an entire generation.

Vietnam hardened men quickly. Endless artillery fire, incoming rockets, exhaustion, fear, and the constant uncertainty of survival became daily life. Marines like Wilcox learned to live under pressure most civilians could never truly imagine.

But for many veterans, the hardest battle began after they came home.

When Larry Wilcox returned to America in 1973, the country he stepped back into was deeply divided over the war. Unlike previous generations of soldiers, many Vietnam veterans returned quietly, often feeling ignored, misunderstood, or even resented for serving in a conflict they did not choose.

Wilcox later recalled landing near San Francisco still wearing his Marine uniform. He noticed the cold looks almost immediately. Feeling uncomfortable and unwelcome, he grabbed a taxi and left the airport.

The ride was long.
The driver barely spoke.
Wilcox worried the fare would cost more money than he had left.

Then, at the end of the trip, something happened he never forgot.

When Wilcox tried to pay, the taxi driver refused the money.

“This one’s on me, Sergeant. Thank you for your service.”

Years later, Wilcox admitted the moment nearly broke him emotionally because after everything Vietnam veterans had endured, one stranger quietly reminded him that someone still cared.

That small act of kindness stayed with him for the rest

05/21/2026

May 21, 1969.

Hill 270, Quảng Tín Province.

Specialist Four Keith Newton Starnes Jr., from Charlotte, North Carolina, served as a Medical Specialist with D Company, 1st Battalion, 501st Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division.

A combat medic walked the same ground as the infantry.

He carried no special protection.
He moved toward the wounded while others sought cover.
And in the middle of firefights, his job was to keep men alive.

The Screaming Eagles of the 101st Airborne were heavily engaged across the mountains and valleys of central Vietnam in 1969, fighting in isolated hills and jungle terrain where enemy forces could strike suddenly and violently.

One of those places was Hill 270.

On May 21, 1969, hostile small arms fire took Keith Starnes’ life there.

He was 22 years old.

A North Carolina soldier.
A combat medic.
A young man who carried medical supplies into battle knowing the wounded depended on him.

Think about the burden medics carried.

Every cry for help pulled them toward danger.
Every wounded soldier became their responsibility.
And many died trying to save others.

Men remembered medics not only for treating wounds, but for giving hope in moments when everything around them had fallen apart.

Keith Newton Starnes Jr. became part of that legacy.

We remember him.

05/16/2026

YUP! It's me . . . somewhere in the boonies of the Tay Ninh Province. 5'9" and 130 lbs. minus fatigues with dried red mud + hole, socks & underwear, combat boots, flack vest, ammo belt, ammo clips w/ bullets, helmut, mosquito repellent, M-16 rifle, cigarette lighter, 2 pks. of Marlboro Lights, dog tags & chain, 2 rings and a Bulova watch

Fortunately, I kicked the cancer stick habit in 1980, or I'd be dead by now.

05/14/2026

A wounded paratrooper grimaces in pain as he awaits medical evacuation. The battle was viewed as a meat grinder in terms of the number of casualties produced, hence the name Hamburger Hill.

05/13/2026

This is a photo Henri Huet, (1927-1971) took on March 17, 1969, as he documented Operation Wayne Grey. This major offensive by the first brigade of the Fourth Infantry Division was an attack into the Plei Trap Valley where the 66th NVA had their B-3 Front headquarters. Mr. Huet was one of many photojournalists in Vietnam. He first worked for UPI, then switched to AP. In 1971 he was killed during Operation Lam Son 719, when the chopper he was in, was shot down over Laos. Three other photojournalists were also killed in that crash. This may be LZ Sw***er, which was secured in early March, after quite a battle. They took incoming on this hill quite often, as it served as a base for our big guns. One veteran suggest this may be LZ Brace, where A company 3/8 inf. took a beating during Wayne Grey.

05/10/2026

Another photo from the personal collection of SGT Fred Grandinetti - C Co 3-12, June '68-June '69. This most likely from somewhere west of Pleiku. I've mentioned before, towards the end of his tour Fred was our unit photographer, which accounts for this great image. My guess is this fellow is a grunt with one of our company's as he is carrying M-60 ammo. Grunts in line company's weren't supposed to wear boonie hats, and definitely weren't supposed to wear tiger striped berets, and in my company we had to keep the extra M-60 ammo in cans. Rules were made to be broken. Think about trying to get past this downed tree with a fully packed ruck! Whoever this young man served with, he was happy to have his picture taken.