Tribute to
William Warner Utts
"  Brother Bill"
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 
 
 
 

           Visiting Utts brothers
           together in Vietnam,
           January 1969. Bill is on
           the right, Tom on the left.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



           Bill was 26, when he became what the U.S. Army termed a "casualty type:
            hostile-killed." An unseemly end for a young man with such great promise.


                The second and last son, Bill
                (left) born to Thomas and
                Elinor, on December 30, 1942,
                as a terrible war ravaged the
                world. But he was lucky, far
                from the fighting, safe in
                America's heartland, Omaha,
                Nebraska. In that far away time
                our family had little connection
                with the military. Father tried to
                join the Marine Corps early in
                World War II, but a bad back
                that plagued all his life got him
                declare medically unfit.

               
                Finishing high school, I joined  the Marines for two years. Bill had no interest in the military.
                At a very young age he displayed amazing talent with numbers. Soon his exceptional talent for
                math and science was obvious.

                After the Marines I enrolled in the University of Nebraska at Omaha. Bill followed two years
                later. After graduation, I discovered with a degree I could be an officers. But I had also learned I
                wasn't really a Marine kind'a guy, so I decided to try the Air Force. Bill remained steadfast
                in his apathy for military life.

                Besides, with successful manipulation
                of numbers, especially those printed on
                pasteboard, he was putting him through
                the University of Nebraska at Omaha
                playing cards.

                As the war continued, he worked toward
                a degree in chemistry. He held on five
                years, but finally he graduated.

              And still the damn war just wouldn't go away.

                Despite being in a family that had one son who son who was a career military office, the draft hounded
                him. Finally, in 1968 he finally gave up the struggle and let himself be taken. At first he was assured
                that with his education and a degree,  he would not be sent anywhere near the combat zone.



                But someone, probably with good intentions, suggested that
                with his education, he could easily become an officer. That
                suggestion sealed Bill's fate.

                There could have been few people, even in that terrible time,
                less temperamentally fit to be a military officer. Still, he let
                himself be talking into applying for OCS. He was accepted,
                but there was a catch 22 with a kicker, first he had to go to
                Advanced Infantry Training.  In AIT, he injured his wrist. A
                doctor said it was only a sprain and he was pushed back to
                OCS. There, he soon got a reputation for questioning those
                illogical inanities his instructors felt it was not just their right,
                but their duty to inflict the lives of those over whom they held
                God like power. And as has been pointed out, power corrupts. 
 

               
                Physically at a disadvantage with a wrist that wouldn't heal, and temperamentally disadvantage
                by nature, Bill didn't make it. However, because he had completed AIT, he was then at the top
                of the short list for Vietnam. And, Oh, by the way...a different doctor checked his wrist and
                discovered a small bone that had been broken healed improperly. It had to be broken again
                and reset.

                Bill arrived in Vietnam at a place called Duc Pho in December of 1968. At the time I was just
                finishing a two-and-a-half-year tour at Kadena Air Base on Okinawa. Not that far away. I
                decided to visit and bolster his morale. And besides, despite volunteering numerous times, I'd
                never been to Vietnam.

                So I requested leave to go see him. Take leave to a combat zone? The answer was "Gee, sorry
                about that, it's against the rules to go on leave to Vietnam." I tried to do it the right way, going all
                the way to the wing commander. But they just kept saying, "You know how it is, rules are rules."

                Oh, yeah! Well, how about if I take leave to go to Bangkok? Sure, they would let me do that. With
                leave orders in my pocket for Thailand, I whipped out my trusty weapon of choice: a typewriter, and
                created a very official looking set of temporary duty orders assigning myself to an inspection tour of
                bases in Vietnam.


              I check out using the leave orders.
             Then beat it down to Naha Air Base
             where we had C-130 cargo flights to
             Cam Ron Bay, Vietnam. How about
             a ride? "No problem, come on
            aboard." Right on! From Cam Ron
            I hopped my way to Duc Pho.
            When I  walked off the airplane
            at the Americal Division base the
            Army terminal guy was more than
            a little surprised to see an unexpected
            Air Force Captain drop in. He asked
           what I was doing there?            
            "Came to visit my brother," I said.
   
        "Ahhh . . .sir,  we don't get many visitors here." After he recovered he called Bill's unit. The first sergeant came and
          got me. But Bill wasn't at the base camp, he was in a four-duce  mortar section on a mountain top: LZ Thunder. (Photo)
                     
        But they put me up that night, and in the morning laid on a helicopter that flew me to the LZ.  The Lieutenant
        Colonel running the place released Bill from duty and we flew back to the base camp. Bill got a big kick out of
        that. Said it was his first time in a helicopter. Before he always traveled by truck.

        They left us alone for a couple days and we had a great visit. Bill was in good spirits. Seems he hadn't cashed
        a pay check since arriving in country. His talent with numbers on pasteboard kept him well fixed. So much so
        that his biggest problem was finding ways around rules aimed at black marketing that limited how much money
        could be sent out of country.
 

               
                He looked forward to getting it over,  returning home
                to get married, and to use the GI Bill to go back to school
                to get his master's degree. 

                Finally someone suggested that while they could appreciate
                my gesture, the Army did have other things to do. So I
                said good bye and hopped a airplane to Saigon.

                What was strange, during my entire time in Vietnam the war
                seemed  to be on hold. Wherever I went, peace seemed to
                 break out. After a few days exploring the capitol city, I decided
                 it was time to move along.    
    
                At Tan Son Nhut, after tearing up and shitcanning my orders,
                I showed the Air Force guy at the passenger counter my leave
                orders, saying, "Look, I was on a flight to Bangkok yesterday,
                and I got bumped off.  Can you get me out of here?"

               


            For a moment I thought that poor young airman was going to have a heart attack on the spot. "That's impossible,"
            he whined. "It's illegal for you to be in Vietnam on leave." I stuck to my story, pointing out that since I was there,
            certain realities had to be faced. Finally, desperate to avoid problems, he decided he should get me on the very next
            flight to Bangkok. I said I thought that was a dandy idea.

           After touring the temples and museums in Thailand for a few days, I returned to Okinawa. When I check in someone
            asked, "How was Bangkok?" I replied,  "You wouldn't believe!"           

            At the end of the month,  I returned to the mainland assigned to Luke Air Force Base in Phoenix, AZ.  At the time I
            had no idea how much stretching the rules was going to mean. Then, two months later, my family received the dreaded
            news. Bill was dead. Left behind was a father mystified by fate. He died two years later of cancer.  My mother never
            fully recovered from her heart break until she died in 1981.  Bill also left a fiancee who grieved, yet was unfailingly kind
            our mother.

            When my novel,  KOREA BLUE  was published, I dedicated it to Bill with these words: "For my brother Bill. Unlike
            his older brother, he wanted nothing to do with the military or exotic adventures in foreign lands. However, because
            of bad timing and bad luck, he was inexorably sucked into the war in Vietnam. There, while serving with the Americal
            Division, he died as the Army reported: "As a result of enemy action."

               Guess there's not much more to say, except to echo that old sentiment: "Life ain't fair."


           May 2008 -- My family never received any details about Bill’s death until I received this recent e-mail. I am very grateful
            to Tom Bedient because after he came across this website he was kind enough to provided the following personal account
            of his memories of Brother Bill:            

            I remember the night LZ BUFF got hit by mortars and Bill was killed.  As I remember, he was not the only one.  Heard the
            activity over the radio - I was a rifle platoon leader just a few klicks south of BUFF that night - March 69 I would guess.
            Bill was assigned to the 4.2 in Mortar Platoon. E Company had a Recon Platoon (legs walking in the woods), a mortar
            platoon which helped me out a number of times - max range 5,925 meters.  Covered the gap between rifle company 81 mm
            mortars and the bigger artillery stuff.

           Bill was more than just a soldier.  He was like a wise big brother to a number of guys in E Company, the rifle companies,
            battalion headquarters, and some artillery gunners on the hill.  He was smart, not very interested in rank and military
            courtesy (though always polite and respectful), and worked long hard hours.  The last duty I remember we watched Bill
            unhook while standing on top of the cargo under a big chopper -- a sling basket full of 4.2 mortar ammo. He crawled up
            next to the CH-47 to catch the rigging as the crew unhooked and flew away.  I remember seeing him return to his "cave-like
            bunker" with arms and face as black as could be from the mix of sweat and dust.  Someone joked about it, or  maybe he did.

            We were not pals.  Doubtful he knew my name.  As I said, I do not remember if Bill and I spoke to each other.  We probably
            sat together in the LZ BUFF mess tent a few times.  I knew very well that some OCS dropouts would have been better
            officers than most of the graduates.  Few spent more  than a couple of days on LZ BUFF without knowing Utts. Undoubtedly
            39 years later hundreds of other infantrymen still remember him by name and still grieve his death.

            I had heard he was an OCS SP-5.  It was the practice of the Infantry School to assign graduates and non-graduates an
            Infantry Intel MOS, 11F.  That insured those who dropped out would have little  chance of hunting for any other kind of
            assignment but with an infantry unit.

           The week after Bill was killed I was assigned to E Company, Recon Platoon Leader.  I did not want the job, it was customarily
            given a favorite trusted lieutenant.  I was not one of those and was counting days until release from active duty and return to
            Montana State University where my wife was a nursing student. She is still my sweetheart 40 years later.  How I finished
            college and returned to active duty is another story. My last Army assignment was Fort Leavenworth.  I retired in 2003.

            Regards, Thomas N. Bedient
            Colonel, Retired, Lenexa, Kansas
 

     
             January 2009 -- I received an email from a man who was stationed in the same unit and knew Bill. He had first hand
            knowledge of what happened during that time. He asked that I not use his last name, he said:
            
             I'll start by saying I know how Bill died because I was there.  During one of our many rocket attacks at night, one of
            them went directly in his bunker.  We had sandbags on the top and sides but you had to have a way to get in and out.
            It was just one of those things that could have just as easily happened to me as Bill. It was late at night and he was
            probably asleep when it happened, if that is any comfort.  The only ones of our platoon awake at that hour would
            be the squad on duty at the 4.2.

            If I recall it correctly, Bill was in the communications group that did all the calculations for the correct "charge"
            to  place on the mortar round and the correct angle of fire so that it would go where we wanted it to land.  The
            Army was making proper use of his math background. 

            I too went to OCS at Ft Benning (I assume that is where he went) and decided that since I was going to have to
            go to Vietnam anyway, I would rather be in back of the platoon at a Private rather than leading it as a 2nd Lt.  

            I met Bill when we got to our unit at Duc Pho. I have always felt that Bill actually saved my life.  The first night
            we arrived at base camp, Bill went to the commanding officer and convinced him that those of us who were college
            graduates and OCS drop outs should not be wasted as a rifleman.  He is the one who got us in the 4.2 platoon which
            meant we did not have to go out on patrol with an M16 and stayed on the forward fire base.  This is something I have
            always credited to Bill. Bill and I got along well.  His bunker was not in the same group as mine so I usually only saw
            him a mess, guard duty or unloading ammo from the choppers.

            When I got back to the US I had less than 90 days left in my enlistment and was discharged at that time.  To me, my
            1 yr, 9mos and 5 days was a career. Within a year I met and married the love of my life and am lucky enough to
            still have her here by my side today.

            I hope my remarks help in some way. Regards, Dennis 

             One positive reaction to this website has been to learn more about Bill's time in Vietnam. At the time of his death
             the letter of condolence from the President on down contained no real information about what happened. While I
             didn't feel that details would  make his death any less tragic, I do appreciate those who have responded to Bill's
             story and the information they've provided. I have also heard from some of those who knew Bill at Central High
             School in Omaha, Nebraska, to say they appreciated the tribute.

             While attending the 50th reunion of my 1957 graduating we took a tour of CHS. I was surprised to find they had
             erected a memorial to the CHS students who were killed in the war. Pictures below.

                
                  Memorial front, facing away from CHS entrance.                Facing CHS front entrance, Bill's name and photo at bottom

 

            For anyone interesting in adding information to this memorial, please contact me at: tom.utts@gmail.com.
 

         LINKS:
              Vietnam Veterans Memorial Pages:
                        The Virtual Wall: Created by the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Folks
                                 Names On The Wall: Up to date listing of the names on the wall
                                 The Wall: National Vietnam Veterans organization page

                                 My Home Page:  With links to my other pages

WEB MASTER:  Tom Utts