We have been learning about Karl Porisch, who grew up in Jackson and earned a bachelor’s degree at Mankato State College in 1968. He volunteered for Marine Corps flight training and received his commission as an officer of Marines after completing the Platoon Leaders Class (PLC). He then completed the Marine Corps Officer Basic Course and primary Army helicopter flight training in central Texas. His next stop was Hunter Army Airfield near Savannah, Georgia for advanced flight training.

Karl and his first spouse, Jeri, moved again for the Marine Corps. He reflected on what his Marine training assignments meant for her.

“It was new to her, although her father was a WWII pilot. Growing up with him, I think she somewhat understood the military. The Marines had a wives’ club and they did things together. So, they were with other women who were experiencing the same things my wife was, like the long duty hours. I think she did well.”

Karl explained the purpose of the training at Hunter Army Airfield and how the instructors emphasized its significance.

“The purpose was to prepare you for instrument flight, whereas Texas was basic training and VFR flight — Visual Flight Rules. They wanted you to learn how to fly a helicopter on instruments. I’ll never forget the first thing they did. (Karl chuckled nervously) They put us in a classroom with an FAA (Federal Aviation Administration) tape of this doctor and his family, flying from New York to Florida. They got in the clouds and he had no instrument training. They played this tape of him talking to the aircraft controllers. His wife was crying and screaming in the background. Ultimately, they crashed and everyone was killed. The tape went right up to that point. That classroom was dead quiet. They were impressing on us the need to be able to fly on instruments.”

He explained how the trainees went about learning instrument flying.

“We started out in the Bell OH-13. From the time you got in with your instructor you had a (cockpit) hood on. Your side of the cockpit was blacked out. You couldn’t see anything (but your instruments). They made us file a flight plan on their own IFR (Instrument Flight Rules) flight paths and fly that, using your instruments. The OH-13 had an ADF — Automatic Direction Finder. It’s like a broadcast radio, but its frequencies are higher. You’d dial those in and (your instructor would) assign you an altitude. A needle on the indicator in the helicopter was the ADF and you had to keep the needle there and fly that way to get to the radio beacon.”

Once the trainees mastered instrument flying in the OH-13, they trained on the UH-1, “Huey.”

“The Huey was the biggest, heaviest helicopter yet and had a turbine engine. It was a more demanding aircraft for instruments. They taught you to do an instrument scan, going around from the altimeter to the airspeed indicator to the engine instruments. Pretty soon it just became second nature.”

Karl completed advanced flight training and received the pilot’s reward, but he and Jeri did not leave for his next training assignment.

“When you were done with the syllabus, they had a ceremony and you got Army Aviator wings. I was assigned back into the Marine Corps in California. When we were done with the Army, Jeri was pregnant with our son, Chris. So, we had thirty days leave before I started the (Marine Corps) flight program. Then we drove to Tustin, California, just south of L.A. We had our son, Chris, with us.”

The new pilots had their choice of helicopter for their operational training: the UH-1, “Huey,” the CH-46 “Sea Knigh,” a tandem rotor, medium lift helicopter; or the CH-53 “Sea Stallion,” a heavy lift helicopter. Karl chose the CH-46.

“The 46 was the workhorse for the Marine Corps in Vietnam. It was a good choice. (Karl chuckled) The hardest thing to learn was the 46 has tricycle (landing) gear. It’s got a nose, front mount (wheel) and two main mounts on the stub wings (aft). Learning how to taxi that thing on the ground was a chore. You had to rock the nose because the nose wheel was spring-loaded. If you lifted up on it and pushed down, you could get it to turn a little.”

Karl mastered that and the other skills necessary to operate the twin-rotor, CH-46 and completed his operational training.

“I got my Navy wings in late August 1970 and overseas orders to Okinawa. Jeri and I went back to Chicago, where she was going to live with her folks. That’s also when I told (my family), because they were concerned, ‘They told us that they’re not sending pilots to Vietnam.'”

Karl returned to California with a fellow CH-46 pilot from Wisconsin and the Marine Corps flew them to Okinawa. Karl and his friend were two of 10 Marine pilots whose orders were changed in Okinawa.

“We got orders to the 1st Marine Aircraft Wing. They said, ‘Go over and check in with that Lance Corporal. He’ll get you squared away.’ We went over and he had a big, rubber stamp. Bam! In red letters on our orders it was ‘1st MAW.’ I asked him, ‘Is that in Iwakuni?’ He said, ‘No, Sir. It’s in Danang (Vietnam).’ (Karl chuckled) I’m sure I got pale as a ghost. I thought, ‘How am I going to explain this to my parents and my wife?’ That’s when it really set in, ‘Oh, my goodness. My life was going to change.'”

©2025 William D. Palmer.