**Episode 24: Sweet Marlene and the Skyraider Spirit**
In this compelling episode of *American Warrior Radio*, Vietnam War veteran **Richard “Rich” Hall** recounts his journey as an **A-1 Skyraider pilot**—and the bond he formed with his aircraft, “**Sweet Marlene**,” named after his wife. Through stories of daring rescue missions, air-to-ground combat, and intense psychological strain, Rich offers a raw, honest account of a war often misunderstood at home.
Rich reflects on the deep contradictions of the conflict: the sense of purpose and camaraderie in the cockpit contrasted with the political restraints and secrecy imposed by leadership. His missions as a **“Sandy” pilot**—flying cover for downed airmen—were acts of pure courage and responsibility. Yet even in the chaos of war, he found moments of clarity, honor, and quiet connection with the plane that “treated him well.”
He shares the personal toll of killing in combat, the emotional aftermath that lingered for decades, and the hard truth many veterans discovered: they were never quite the same. But Rich also shines a light on resilience, love, and the belief that **freedom is always worth defending**.
This episode is a tribute to the Skyraider spirit, the power of love—both for family and country—and the complexity of coming home from war.
Episode 24: Sweet Marlene and the Skyraider Spirit
In this episode of American Warrior Radio, aviation artist John Mollison sits down with Richard “Rich” Hall, a Vietnam War veteran, to hear his story as an A-1 Skyraider pilot. Rich shares insights into his motivations, his experiences in combat, the challenges he faced, and the unique bond he had with his aircraft.
For Rich Hall, going to Vietnam was about being where the action was – it was the “only war we had at the time”. Despite having previously flown F-101s, he chose to fly the A-1 Skyraider in Vietnam. Part of this decision was driven by a desire to test himself, asking if he could “hack it” operating a single-engine fighter alone in combat. He also wanted to try the “Sandy mission,” which involved protecting helicopters engaged in rescuing downed pilots. This role appealed to him, and he found the thought of it “comfortable”. Other pilots who were rescued felt immense relief seeing or hearing the Skyraiders arrive. Beyond rescue, Rich’s unit also performed a “strike roll” with the call sign “Firefly,” working primarily in North Laos. He explained that operating in Laos was partly due to a bombing halt over North Vietnam at the time, allowing other aircraft like F-4s and Thuds to practice there.
Rich’s mindset was rooted in duty, honor, and country. He believed freedom was worth defending. However, he found the strategic limitations placed upon them difficult to accept. To him, war is a “total condition” aimed at destroying the enemy’s capability to fight. He felt they were “hamstrung,” unable to return fire unless explicitly shot upon. He attributed these restrictions to purely political decisions by the leadership under Lyndon Baines Johnson, decisions he felt violated fundamental military principles and showed a lack of understanding of freedom and liberty. He also had an “inkling” that something didn’t “feel right” about the war being controversial and missions being secret.
Combat brought intense and often brutal experiences. Rich recounted a particularly bad Christmas Day in 1968 when a rescue attempt for an F-100 pilot hanging in a tree turned out to be a trap. The rescue helicopter (“Jolly”) was heavily damaged, and the pilot they were trying to save was known to be dead. From this, they learned a grim lesson: they did not rescue dead men. Rich also described the harrowing experience of being directly targeted by enemy fire, seeing a “conical” pattern of tracers coming at him. In a “straight on head-to-head shootout,” he was forced to engage and kill an enemy soldier. He views killing in combat as “part of the game” and stated he would not apologize for it, believing the enemy felt the same way.
Rich openly discussed the psychological toll of combat. He found it “very difficult” to kill a human being the first time, noting that it became easier but suggested that afterwards, a person might “go a little off the edge” and not be “quite normal”. He experienced physical “shakes” (adrenaline withdrawal) after a stressful incident. He didn’t fully grasp the extent to which he was “damaged goods” until a reunion in 1999, following the lifting of a 25-year “gag order” that had been in place since 1974. At the reunion, he discovered that many other veterans shared similar fears, thoughts, problems, dreams, and nightmares.
A significant part of his story is his aircraft, an A-1 Skyraider he named “Sweet Marlene”. He named her after his wife, who had “no idea”. “Sweet Marlene” was more than just an airplane; Rich felt she “got me through”. He would specifically ask to fly her whenever she was on the schedule because he felt she “treated me well”.
Coming home in 1974 was difficult. Rich felt that America had “gone” and wasn’t the same. They faced negative public perception, with veterans sometimes labeled “baby killers”. He was even ordered not to wear his uniform in public or fly the flag. He later defied this by wearing a flag patch on his work shirt.
Today, Rich emphasizes that freedom is worth defending. He believes life, freedom, and spending time with grandkids are good things. He suggests that it might be time to move past focusing only on the negative aspects of the Vietnam War and start looking for the “positive stories” that exist.
Aviation artist John Mollison reflects on Rich’s enduring spirit. Seeing Rich mention the F-16 as an aircraft he’d fly if he returned to combat highlights that Rich hasn’t lost his passion for the adventure of flying. Looking at the artwork of “Sweet Marlene,” Mollison sees a timeless energy, a “sense of I can do it,” a man’s love for his wife, family, and country, and ultimately, a positive dimension to the Vietnam War experience. Rich Hall’s story underscores the dedication and sacrifices of those who served, the harsh realities of war, and the personal journeys veterans navigate both during and after conflict.