This is the origin of the Purple Foxes as told by one of the culprits who started the whole thing. As all good sea stories go it begins with “This is no shit.” The earlier stories posted on The Purple Fox web site web site are fairly accurate but the real blame for the start of the Purple Foxes falls upon a group of five Lieutenants, Ron Elmone, Dick McMann, Duke Molner, Brice Luedtke, and Wally Krywko. If anyone person could be said to the Purple Fox it would be Ron as he was the biggest clown of the bunch but in reality it was a group effort with three ring leaders, Brice tagging along and Wally in the rear.

Following the assignation of President Kennedy in 1963 General Green and the other members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff began realigning their respective forces in anticipation of the up coming “JOHNSON INTERNATIONAL WAR GAMES.” As a result the Marine Helicopter pipeline was enlarged and aimed full force at the West Coast flooding MCAF Santa Ana with newly designated Naval Aviators. Understandably there was no way the existing structure could possibly handle all the eager fresh young pilots. Faced with an unlimited amount of free time and absolutely no responsibility whatsoever this large group of newbies did what Lieutenants the world over do, go to the beach, the bar, chase girls and generally get into trouble. After some months MAG -36 attempted to form into an effective unit and began realigning asset and responsibilities designating HMM-364 as the training unit upon it’s return from Viet Nam. A group of experienced pilots were assigned to the squadron to get it off the ground and become the instructors. They were all fighter pilots who had just transitioned into helicopters after flying the retired F-8U Crusader and were absolutely delighted to be chosen for this plumb assignment. A member of this select group was Captain Jim Coleman a Texas cowboy through and through who played the role to the hilt and in fact was actually the real deal, quite colorful very vocal and not at all politically correct or restrained in the slightest. He initially was the S-1 responsible for the welfare of the new pilots getting the administration right. If you had a problem you were to see him. The results of a meeting this compassionate gentleman usually went along the lines of “What makes you think I give a shit about you or your piss ant problems! Get your ass out of my fucking office!” delivered at a substantial volume level which immediately drew the attention of the above mentioned group. Getting Captain Coleman’s goat instantly became a fun project. Suddenly the good Captain was faced with a multitude of problems as a steady stream of Lieutenants seeking advice poured into his office resulting in a tirade wherein the phrase “… give a shit” could always be found.

The Purple Fox made its appearance as a crayon drawing attached to a note to Capt. Coleman with a thumb nail photo of the good Capt. clearly visible in the butt hole of the the Purple Fox. Needless to say an unbelievable explosion occurred in the office spaces that day and many following days as we had an unlimited supply of the photos on hand. The drawings quickly evolved into the small stuffed animal which continued to be a presence in the squadron spaces and was put to assorted fun uses.

The merriment continued until orders to prepare to mount out were received and life suddenly became very serious as the Squadron began preparations for deploying to Vietnam. It was immediately obvious that we were going to be short on every thing from parts, to trained crews to support equipment to the basic essentials. The only thing not lacking was the motivation to get the job done. We didn’t give a shit about the rest of the crap. Maintenance saw to the painting of our new motto and the image of our mascot on the tail of each aircraft as we pilled what we had been able to beg borrow or steal on board the USS Princeton. With the rest of MAG-36 we sailed off to Vietnam with 36 lieutenants and all their gear crammed into a 20 x 35 foot bunk room.

After what seemed like forever we off loaded at Ky-Ha and moved 18 each into comfy 12 man GP tents with no flooring and no electricity. At first the base location was just red clay with the dust getting into everything. Then the monsoon started and the clay became mud that stuck and was impossible to remove. We continued operating soaked to skin without a dry sock to be found and only C-rations to eat. After a few weeks the first hot meals consisting of soup (?), warm bread and coffee were provided. In spite of poor living conditions and the lack of parts and heavy maintenance support the squadron pressed on performing in an exceptional manner which did not go unnoticed. The pace we set resulted in the Captain of the USS Princeton requesting our HMM-364 be returned to his ship as the Squadron that replaced us in the rotation could not duplicate our performance. If a unit requested help who gave a shit how hot the LZ was our brothers in arms needed assistance and we were there. There are countless examples of Purple Fox crews conducting precarious missions such as Tim Woosley slinging in a resupply to a surrounded Marine mountain top outpost running out of ammo and receiving heavy fire or Dick Gleason and crew flying for 14 plus straight hours resupplying an Army Special Forces camp in trouble at Hep Duc. The Squadron participated in every major operation and could be counted upon to accept any assignment regardless of the challenges of weather , terrain, distance, time or the enemy situation. Everyone flew until the day before the date they were to go home. This can do attitude became part of each Squadron members psychological make up and stayed with him as he moved on in life. Over the years it has served us well, for the goal is always: just a little bit further, just a few more steps.

Wally Krywko
MARCAD, USMC, RETIRED