1998
- Sgt. John L. Levitow
On February 24, 1969, Airman First Class John L. Levitow flew
a combat mission as a Loadmaster on patrol over South Vietnam
on an AC-47 Dragon gunship. His aircraft was flying a night mission
in the area of Tan Son Nhut AB when the Army base at Long Binh
came under heavy mortar attack. The aircraft was diverted to aid
in the defense of this besieged outpost.
When Spooky 71 was struck by mortar fire that fateful
night, putting the aircraft in immenint danger, Airman Levitow,
by his selfless and heroic actions, saved the aircraft and the
entire crew from certain death and destruction. Airman Levitow's
gallantry and profound concern for his fellow man at risk of his
life above and beyond the call of duty are in keeping with the
highest traditions of the United States Air Force and reflect
immense credit upon himself and the Armed Forces of the United
States of America.
Airman Levitow was awarded the Medal of Honor for his selfless
heroism that saved his fellow crewmembers and the gunship. The
presentation was made by President Richard M. Nixon at the White
House on May 14, 1970.
Airman Levitow was subsequently promoted to Sergeant and completed
his enlistment with the United States Air Force. In recognition
of his heroic action, the USAF Noncommissioned Officer Academies
have named their most prestigious award for scholarship and leadership
in his honor.
After his discharge, Sgt Levitow moved back to Connecticut in
pursuit of his civilian career. However, he has never forgotten
his fellow military comrades and continues his support through
work with the Veterans Affairs department.
It is with great pride that Sgt Levitow is nominated to the
Airlift/Tanker Hall of Fame to represent his peers, the enlisted
force, and the Loadmasters of the United States Air Force.
Saving Spooky 71
On the evening of 24 February 1969, an AC-47 with the call sign
"Spooky 71" lifted off the runway at Bien Hoa Air Base.
As the Gooney Bird climbed into the clear night sky, her eight-man
crew prepared for a long combat air patrol mission in the Saigon
area. In the cargo compartment, the crew's loadmaster, Airman
First Class John L. Levitow, was airborne on his 180th combat
mission.
One of John's responsibilities on the gunship was handling the
Mark 24 flares. He would set the ejection and ignition controls
and pass the flare to the gunner, Airman Ellis C. Owen, who attached
it to a lanyard. On the pilot's command, Owen would simultaneously
pull the safety pin and toss the flare through the open cargo
door.
The Mark 24 looked innocent enough. It was a three-foot-long
metal tube weighing 27 pounds. Ten seconds after release an explosive
charge deployed a parachute. In another ten seconds the magnesium
flare would ignite, quickly reaching a temperature of 4,000 degrees
Fahrenheit and illuminating the countryside with two million candle-power.
Drifting slowly beneath its chute, each flare would burn for over
a minute.
The Vietcong guerrillas, peasants by day and terrorists by night,
were denied the protection of darkness when Spook was about.
Spooky 71 and her crew had been airborne for 4 1/2 hours when
the pilot, Major Ken Carpenter, received word of enemy action
around Bien Hoa. As Carpenter wheeled the Gooney Bird back toward
its home field, he and his copilot saw muzzle flashes from the
perimeter of the Long Binh Army Base below. The Vietcong were
busy here, also.
The gunship circled in an orbit centered around the muzzle flashes.
In two lightning-quick attacks with mini-guns chattering, she
slammed 3,000 rounds of ammunition into the enemy positions. Spooky
71 received an urgent request to remain in the vicinity to provide
illumination for friendly ground forces. Obviously, the area around
Long Binh was the new hot spot.
Major Carpenter received a second call requesting illumination
in an area two miles south of Long Binh. As the aircraft swung
to the south, the pilots saw flashes from a heavy mortar barrage
ahead. The crew in the cargo compartment followed the sounds of
the action. Later, John Levitow recalled, "Every once in
a while, you'd hear a muffled noise when a mortar hit. You could
hear the engines on the aircraft, the noise of the guns firing
and the pilot giving instructions."
Suddenly, Spooky 71 was jarred by a tremendous explosion and
bathed in a blinding flash of light. The crew would learn later
that a North Vietnamese Army 82-millimeter mortar shell had landed
on top of the right wing and exploded inside the wing frame. The
blast raked the fuselage with flying shrapnel.
In the cockpit the pilots struggled to bring the lurching Gooney
Bird under control. They had been momentarily blinded, and the
navigator, Major William Platt recalls, "Even in the navigation
compartment, the flash lit up the inside of the aircraft like
daylight. The aircraft veered sharply to the right and down."
Though the situation was desperate in the cockpit, it was even
worse in the cargo compartment.
Sergeant Edward Fuzie, who was wounded in the back and neck,
remembers, "I saw Sergeant Baer, Airman Owen, and Airman
Levitow go down right away. Baer was covered with blood.
John Levitow thought one of the mini-guns had exploded. In his
words, "But when I was actually hit, the shrapnel felt like
a two-by-four, or a large piece of wood which had been struck
against my side. It stung me. I really didn't know what it was."
Airman Owen was the first to realize that the Spooky crew was
still in mortal danger. "I had the lanyard on one flare hooked
up, and my finger was through the safety pin ring. When we were
hit, all three of us were thrown to the floor. The flare, my finger
still through the safety pin ring, was knocked out of my hand.
The safety pin was pulled and the flare rolled on the aircraft
floor, fully armed!"
Major Carpenter learned via the intercom that everyone in the
back was wounded and a live flare was loose in the plane, In the
meantime, John Levitow came to the aid of a fellow crewmember,
who was perilously close to the open cargo door. As he dragged
his buddy back toward the center of the cabin, John saw the flare.
The canister rolled crazily amidst the ammunition cans which
contained over 19,000 rounds of live ammunition. In less than
20 seconds the AC-47 would become a flaming torch, plunging its
crew to destruction in the night sky. John had no way of knowing
how many seconds remained. The beating the flare had already taken
could have damaged the timer, causing ignition before the 20 seconds
had elapsed. He was weak from loss of blood and numb from the
40 wounds on his right side. But John knew he was the closest
to the flare.
Time and again the smoking tube eluded his grasp as the aircraft
pitched and rolled. In desperation, he threw himself on the flare
and painfully dragged it toward the cargo door, leaving a trail
of blood behind. The seconds ticked by. With a final superhuman
effort John heaved the flare through the door. It barely cleared
the aircraft before igniting in an incandescent blaze.
Major Carpenter recalls, "I had the aircraft in a 30-degree
bank and how Levitow ever managed to get to the flare and throw
it out, I'll never know." As he finally brought the ship
back to straight and level flight, Major Carpenter headed toward
Bien Hoa. He radioed for an ambulance and a medical evacuation
helicopter to meet the gunship.
Major Carpenter spoke later about John Levitow and the Gooney
Bird. "After the mission I was able to reconstruct what happened
by the blood trail left by John. He collapsed after throwing the
flare overboard and was evacuated to the base hospital immediately
upon landing. In my experience, I have never seen such a courageous
act performed under such adverse circumstances. The entire eight-man
crew owes their lives to John, and his quick reactions surely
saved the aircraft. It was not possible to bail out as we had
two seriously injured men aboard, one of them John Levitow. How
the plane ever flew back to the base, I'll never know. How a plane
with over 3,500 holes in the wings and fuselage stayed airborne
defies description. One hole measured 3 feet, 1/4 inches."
Return to duty
Levitow spent about two-and-a-half months in the hospital and
was sent back to Vietnam for another tour of duty. He had flown
a couple of missions when he received word th was being considered
for the Medal of Honor and then got word he was being sent back
to the United States.
In May of 1970, Sgt. John Levitow became the youngest and lowest
ranking individual to ever receive the Medal of Honor when he
was decorated for his actions by President Nixon. Sgt. Levitow
left the Air Force shortly thereafter.
While visting Scott AFB, Illinois, in July of 1989, Levitow
recalled, "It (being a Medal of Honor recipient) was a lot
of responsibility and I was young. I would have made every promotion,
gotten all the good assignemnts, gotten hand-picked jobs and (would
have) been invited to all the important social events. My co-workers
would've hated me.
"When I received my assignment to the 14th Military AIrlift
Squadron, (Norton AFB, California), I heard some of the people in the squadron were afraid I was going to be an arrogant, spiled
brat, " he said.
"The Spirit of John Levitow"
On 23 January 1998, in Long Beach, California, Air Mobility
Command and the Boeing Company struck a resounding chord for the
Air Force enlisted force with the naming of a C-17 after the Air
Force's most well-known enlisted Medal of Honor recipient.
Gen. Walter Kross, AMC commander, and John L. Levitow pulled
the masking away from aircraft P-37 to reveal its new name the
Spirit of John Levitow to a crowd of more than 300 people. The
C-17 is the first to be named for an enlisted person.
"I am a firm believer that I do represent the enlisted
corps," he said. "Sometimes they do go unrecognized
and they do feel that way. I hope it's a strong aircraft and lasts
as long as that AC-47 gunship I was on February 24, 1969. That
airplane was 22 years older than I was at the time of the incident."
Kross noted Levitow's heroism in and out of the Air Force. "We
can easily call Sgt. John Levitow a hero, but he has continuously
requested that he doesn't want to be known as a hero, that his
life amounts to much more than those 10 heroic minutes,"
he said. Kross went on to mention Levitow's service before the
incident, spotlighting the unsung efforts of enlisted airmen everywhere,
and Levitow's work after he separated from the service. Levitow
spent more than 22 years of his life devoted to veterans' affairs
and currently works for the state of Connecticut designing veterans
programs.
"He has given so much to thousands of American men and
women in the United States Air Force uniform, and even some who
don't wear the uniform. He has shaped their lives," Kross
said. "When we unveil the words on the side of this C-17,
we're talking about the spirit of heroism, the spirit of sacrifice
and the spirit of very, very high standards and courage."
The naming ceremony also gave AMC's Year of the Enlisted Force
program some time in the spotlight. With more than 25 initiatives
on the board, the Spirit of John L. Levitow might be the most
noticeable, but Kross said there is more to come.
"It's the most visible item for all the passion and excellence
our enlisted men and women bring to global air mobility and what
they do every day for mankind," Kross said. "Nothing
and I repeat nothing happens in the Air Force (or) Air Mobility
Command without the dedication, enthusiasm and sacrifice of our
enlisted force. Not an aircraft launches. Not a pallet moves.
Not a passenger is processed. No one's family gets protected.
Not a patient cared for without the world's best enlisted force.
"We want to improve the careers and lives of all the enlisted
members on our air mobility team," he added.
Also during the ceremony, Dr. David Spong, vice president and
general manager of the C-17 program for Boeing, spoke of the partnership
between Boeing and the Air Force in creating the C-17 and the
naming of the jet itself.
"Today's events exemplify why we build the C-17,"
Spong said. "The men and women of our armed forces and of
our allies deserve the very best equipment possible when they
go into harm's way. We make quality 'job one' and men like John
Levitow are the reason.
"The quality we build into each C-17 Globemaster III might
mean someone's life. There can't be any better reason than that,"
Spong said.
Quiet Hero
After receiving the Medal of Honor, Levitow was told by a member
of the Air Staff that the only people to whom he was required
to render a salute were Medal of Honor winners who were of higher
rank than himself all of them since he was the lowest-ranking
recipient.
Saying, "I'm plain folks and I feel funny when people try
to put me up on a pedistal. I'm not a flashy guy," Levitow
recalled that after receiving the Medal of Honor his father told
him to not get cocky because he was "yesterday's news."
John L. Levitow will never be yeaterday's news to the men and
women of the U. S. Air Force, to them he will live forever as
true Air Force hero.
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