We have been learning about Karl Porisch, who graduated from Mankato State College in 1968 and completed Marine Corps officer and helicopter flight training. The Marine Corps assigned him to Okinawa, so he fare-welled his spouse and infant son in Chicago, where she stayed with her parents. The Okinawa command then reassigned Karl and nine other helicopter pilots.

“At one point they told us they weren’t sending replacement pilots into Vietnam, so we didn’t plan on that. We were assigned to the 1st Marine Aircraft Wing in Danang, Vietnam.”

Arriving in Danang was memorable.

“The first thing that struck me was the odor. It’s something you had never experienced. I think the heat and humidity picked up scents from the ground or foliage. There was smoke. There was diesel fuel and the smell of human waste. (Karl chuckled) It was just so different.”

Karl and his friend, Al Jacobson, reported to the In-processing Center to get to Marble Mountain Airfield.

“They loaded us on a 6-by (all-wheel drive military truck) with a quad .50 machine gun on the front. (Karl laughed) I’m thinking, ‘What have I gotten myself into?'”

On the way to get their aviation unit assignment the new pilots had a fortunate encounter.

“Jim Martin, one of my old roommates from OCS and the Basic School was walking along the road. (Karl chuckled) I waved to him and he said, ‘263!’ We got to the S-1 and he asked what we wanted. We said, ‘263.’ He said, ‘No problem.'”

Karl and Al reported to Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 263 as its newest pilots.

“There was a checklist to go through: Squadron S-1, which was Personnel; S-2, Intelligence; S-3, Operations; and S-4, Logistics. The paraloft was where you got your bullet bouncer, your survival vest, your flight suits, and your helmet. We brought white helmets with us. They said, ‘When you get this back, it isn’t going to be white, Lieutenant.’ I said, ‘Really? Why?’ He said, ‘Because it’s too much of an aiming point.’ (Karl chuckled) They painted them a flat black. Then we were assigned our hootch.”

Karl described his home during his Vietnam tour.

“It was a rectangular, wood-framed structure on stilts about three feet off the ground with screen doors on both ends. The sides were screened and had vertical shutters you could drop during rain. It was surrounded by sandbags four or five feet high. The South China Sea was a hundred yards from us, so there was a lot of sand. They had boardwalks to make it easier to get around. The roofs were corrugated metal with sandbags on them for windstorms.”

Karl and Al joined their roommates.

“There were already two people there. Al and I were in the middle room with two beds. Jim Martin had a room to himself, as did Rob Meyer. They had been there before us, so they had the better living quarters.”

The area had unsubtle reminders they were in a combat zone.

“In-between each pair of huts was a rocket bunker. We had three or four rocket attacks during my time there. When the sirens went off, everybody ran.”

Squadron policy required new pilots to acclimate five days before flying. Karl and Al became exceptions to the rule.

“Al and I were sleeping when the duty driver pounded on our hootch door, saying, “Lieutenants Porisch and Jacobson, get up. You have to fly.” I replied, “We haven’t been here five days.” He said, ‘I don’t care! The CO said you’re supposed to fly. Get out of bed!’ We got up and it was raining. My first hop was to fly with Rick Kunkle, who had three weeks left in Vietnam. We are going to fly the 3rd MAF (Marine Amphibious Force) commanding general around because rivers were flooding and villages were being inundated.”

The first mission was to help flooded Vietnamese villagers.

“We picked up villagers with a liaison who said, ‘You are going to pick them up here and you are taking them here.’ That was higher ground that wasn’t flooded. We did that and then we went back and refueled.”

That was when Karl’s first mission became frustrating.

“We picked up the general and I got kicked out of the co-pilot’s seat. (Karl laughed) The General wanted to fly up front. What are you going to tell a three-star? So, now I was in the back with his aide. Rick was flying and this general was saying, ‘Rick, I need to go here.’ He knew where every unit was. He saw a platoon below and said, ‘Rick, I want to talk to that guy.’ We landed and the aide hauled the platoon sergeant into the aircraft. The CG came out with his Marine cap with three stars. The sergeant’s eyes got big as 50 cent pieces. The general wanted to know where he was; where he was going; and what he was supposed to do. This guy knew. We flew all around that day, but only did that once.”

But Karl’s first Vietnam flight day was not over.

My roommate, Rob Meyers, asked, ‘Karl, you want to go out in the goo again? There’s a 46 at Baldy that needs a new rotor blade.’ This was a fire support base 20miles south. It’s nighttime, but the rain had let up. I said, ‘I’ll go.’ We flew there in the dark; gave them the rotor blade; they quickly changed it; and we brought the bad one back. That was the end of my long day.”

Welcome to flying out of Marble Mountain Airfield, Karl.

©2025 William D. Palmer.