MUTTERS RIDGE

Marine Corps Edition, Navy Times 12/22/97
The day was Dec. 25, 1968, near Quang Tri, Vietnam. It was cold
and wet from the rain that never seemed to stop. I was 19 years
old. I was an augment door gunner for HMM-262, a transport
helicopter squadron stationed seven miles from the demilitarized
zone. That day, I was one of a few privileged people who visited
the tip of the spear as "Chatterbox Santa Claus," our call sign for the
day, taking hot food, clean cammies, precious mail and a little bag
of Red Cross goodies to virtually every Marine who spent that Christmas
so far from home. Flight after flight we were cleared to land at the
now famous places such as the Rockpile, 881 north and south,
961, Cam Lo, and a dozen other zones identified by name, number or
a puff of colored smoke.

I cannot begin to describe the faces that looked into the air as we
descended into their makeshift homes. Below, in a tree-stump
littered landing zone or in a water-filled shell hole, were a sea of
mud-caked, nameless faces with sunken eyes and expressions mixed
with fear, despair, frustration and, most of all, loneliness. As the
rotor wash signaled our arrival and word of our cargo spread across
the zone, those faces changed. For that moment, I and my fellow
crewmen represented every Christmas thought these men ever had.
We were their Christmas morning surprise. Santa did come.

The true meaning of Christmas was reaching out and touching my
fellow Marine, that poor kid who realized he was not alone, that
somebody cared about him, and for that brief moment he gave his
thanks in just a look and a smile that radiated warmth and
understanding that I will never forget. It was then that I knew that
Christmas was not in the gift, but in the wonderful feeling that
comes from the giving.

Msgt. Joseph H. Prokop
USMC, retired
 

Special note from LtCol A.N. "Sam Small" Allen (ret).  LtCol Allen
was Commanding Officer of HMM-262 during the time of the
above incident.

I contacted The Navy Times who forwarded my letter to Joe Prokop
and sure enough he called me today and described the flight and we
talked for a while.  He was with PMAG-39 S-2 and flew with us for
only that one month, but collected 14 Air Medals.  His first flight in
the squadron was with me, when we were diverted to pick up a couple
of OE pilots who had been shot down. One of his most memorable
flights was when he had an accidental discharge of his .38 in Don
Waunch's aircraft. The plane had a hydraulic problem following
this, and though the incidents were not connected, he became
known as the guy that shot down a 46 with his .38.