Letter From Barb (Jim's Sister)

Dear Ones,

I have never put these thoughts on paper. I have told a few bits and pieces here and there. This is how I thought after Jim was MISSING. Such an unGodly term!! Immediately after, I was so very sure he would walk out from his hiding and be recovered (after all during survival training in the Philippines they could not find him), that I called mom and dad every few days to see if they had heard anything. It sure made it hard on them. I felt so isolated (in Calif.) and I thought they just forgot to call me, even though I knew that wasn't true. I should have come home. (I was pregnant with Kathy just a few months plus having two other little ones.) I used to dream frequently that I was in Laos looking for Jim. Because I had no idea of the real circumstances of imprisonment, I always dreamed I was there looking through "BARS" for Jim. I never saw him, I was always looking. In the "day time" I always envisioned a fiery crash into the mountainside of Jim's plane. I guess that was Gods way of telling me the reality of it. I never really gave up hoping until I read the book that Jerry and Roger found and read, My Secret War in 1989. Then I understood better and believed. I lost some hope after the war ended and the Gov't told us (families) to back off and give them a chance to bring these men home. When we realized they were not going to bring home or account for everyone, I had not the heart or hope to go back to speaking two or three times a week as before. I had been fighting to bring home (Jim, hopefully and if not, at least) any prisoner of war.

I always had to expose my inner most feelings and pain in my speeches to strangers. Totally against my nature, at that time! When I lost hope I could no longer go back and do that. I do think it is unforgivable for our country not to do everything in its power to bring home our servicemen and to account for them. Jim is gone and I have come to terms with that. It still is not easy and brings tears to my eyes frequently. What a loss! We all loved him so. It helps that we are a close family and it helps we believe in God. Thirty years later, you would think it would be easier or better, but it is still hard. What a loss!!!! I have learned to be expressive regarding my emotions and not bottle them up mostly due to the loss of my Kathy. I did tell Jim how we all loved him as I knew we as a family did not always express it verbally. I wrote him a letter and stuck it in his suitcase before he left, to find later. He did. So, with these thoughts, I send my love to you, also.

Barb

Letter From Cindy (Jim's Sister-In-Law)

A Tribute is given in recognition of the Living, a Eulogy is offered for the remembrance of the Dead. Sadly, today, I can do neither, for depending on whom you ask, Capt. James Wayne Herrick, Jr. is neither living, nor dead. I can share with you, however, a young Air Force pilot, whom I have never met, yet played a pivotal role in who I am today. His spirit still moves among us.

I was 16 when James Wayne Herrick, Jr. first entered my world. Three years earlier his plane had disappeared while on a bombing run over the Ho Chi Min Trail in Southeast Asia. I was idealistic, anti-war and very outspoken. Every night, for as long as I could remember, the 6 and 10 o'clock news had flung the Vietnam War into my living room. Scenes of wounded soldiers slogging through jungle mud and military leaders promoting daily enemy body counts were as common place as the local weather forecast. Being a writer for the school newspaper, I decided to research if any families in our town, or surrounding area, had been directly affected by the war. The name of Lt. James Wayne Herrick, Jr. surfaced.

James Herrick, Jr. was the oldest son of a couple who resided only 7 miles from my home. He had one older sister and 7 younger brothers. Lt. Herrick was listed as a casualty on Oct. 27, 1969 ... just one day before his 25th birthday and one week before he was to return home on leave. This information was printed on a card tucked inside a packet I received containing a metal bracelet with Lt. Herrick's name and casualty date stamped on it. It was a POW/MIA bracelet. Lt. Herrick was listed as MIA, missing in action.

I struggled to understand the horror of the situation. This was not what I had expected when I began my research. Naively I had not thought beyond a name on a list. I had not thought of the person, the son, the brother who was now gone. My safe sheltered world seemed shallow and insignificant as I contemplated the fact that only a few miles away, another families' world had been plunged into a nightmare of the unknown - a nightmare that would last 29 years, and more.

With a new perspective, I wrote a tribute to Lt. Herrick for the school paper. It was published in April of 1973. Lt. Herrick's mother read it, clipped and saved it, tucking that scrap of paper away with other documents pertaining to Jim - as they affectionately called him.

Jim was a great kid, according to his parents and siblings. He was always ready to laugh, enjoy a practical joke on his older sister, or generally have a good time. His brothers recall the time Jim convinced them to creep into their sister's room early one winter morning and carry her kicking and screaming outdoors to be unceremoniously dumped into a snow drift. Despite such pranks, Jim and his sister Barb were very close. Only 9 months apart in age, she doted on her baby brother. The news of his disappearance devastated her and, like anyone who loses a loved one, guilt filled memories mixed with those of happy times.

"I remember when Jim was coming down with polio," Barb relates. "We were walking to school, taking the short cut through the pasture, and Jim was walking so slow. We were going to be late and it was making me mad. Jim kept complaining that his legs hurt, and I thought he was just making excuses not to go to school. I was so mean and bossy to him." To this day, the image of her younger brother trailing behind haunts her. Within hours, 7 year old Jim was stricken with paralytic polio and rushed to the Children's Hospital in Des Moines. But by the summer of his eighth birthday, family medical records note he was completely recovered with no trace of paralysis. Because of his complete recovery as a child, years later, when the official casualty notice arrived, Barb would not accept Jim's possible death. "I felt my brother had something important in life to accomplish because he survived as a child," she confides, "so in my mind he had to survive as an adult."

Lt. Herrick's mother, however, did not share her daughter's hope for Jim's survival. According to family members, Mrs. Herrick knew something was wrong on the day of Jim's disappearance. She had 4 sons in the Air Force at that time and on Oct. 27, 1969 she shared with her husband that she knew something was wrong with one of the boys. Lt. Herrick's father tried to reassure his wife that she had seen too much on the news and was worrying too much. He should have remembered to whom he was talking. Jim's mother was not a worrier - she had a deep faith in God, which she had passed on to each of her children - especially Jim.

The family Bible bears the names, birth dates, and baptisms of each child. Next to Lt. Herrick's name is the entry June 22, 1956 - baptized into the Church of Christ. At the age of 12, Jim had chosen to declare his faith in God. This faith was expressed time and again through his teen and college years. He rarely missed a church service and often volunteered to fill a teacher vacancy as needed. My husband remembers Jim teaching the Jr. High class one Sunday. Amid the violence and disrespect of the 1960's Jim encouraged the class to show their parents the respect they deserved. He, himself, greatly admired his own father who worked 2 jobs to feed a houseful of hungry boys. Later in flight school, Lt. Herrick would be nicknamed "The Preacher". Not that he lectured his buddies on their morality, but rather, they say, he had the courage to say "No" to the drugs, alcohol and girls so readily available to fighter jocks.

All these things Mrs. Herrick pondered through the long night of Oct. 27, 1969. The next day, a dark sedan pulled up in front of the small, white house in Panora, Iowa. Two men in uniform walked smartly up the drive, a manila envelope tucked firmly under the Senior Officer's arm. "He's gone," is all Lt. Herrick's mother would say . . . "He's gone." She quietly retreated to her memories - memories of a dark haired boy with laughing eyes. Memories of a child who bandaged and nursed every sick or wounded animal he found and memories of a man who studied veterinary medicine as he worked his way through college. Memories of scout trips and summers at church camp. Memories of the pride she felt as they pinned silver wings on his chest. Memories sealed forever in a mother's heart.

Three years later, Lt. Herrick would enter my life, never to leave, and his spirit still moves among us. The article I had written was read by a younger brother who wanted to know more about the young woman who asked readers to Never Forget those brave soldiers still missing. That younger brother, Roger Herrick, became my husband.

Lt. Herrick's story does not end here, even though his family prays daily for an end, for answers that may never come. Throughout the last 29 years, his spirit and memory slumbers at times, and then - without warning - we hear from Jim again. His spirit moves among us!

Late one night in 1989, my husband was reading a small paperback book entitled My Secret War by Richard S. Drury, which was first published in 1979. Richard Drury had served at the same Air Base in Laos as Lt. Herrick. Suddenly my husband was shaking me awake, telling me, "read this" as he pointed to a section of the open book. I groggily started to read . . .

"The wing has lost another pilot," the colonel's words started. "A young Lt. named Herrick went in up north."

I couldn't believe my eyes. A cold chill spread over me. I looked at Roger who was lying still and ashen beside me. His breathing was rapid, eyes squeezed shut with tears trickling down his cheeks, fists clenched. I read on . . .

"To him it was a young lieutenant, to me it was Jim, a buddy, a living, breathing entity with feelings and thoughts. An individual person. He had just been relegated to a teaching aid on the blackboard. . . . the meeting ended. We all stood. Jim had been dismissed and the remnants of the episode were strewn across a mountain in northern Laos and represented in white chalk on a green blackboard. It was over for the leadership who could get a fast answer, cover their fannies, and move on to more important things. The real reasons, the basic laws, the discussions that had to take place, never did. The fact that Jim had gone down to get a truck, that he had spotted the enemy and was attacking, that Jim had been fighting in the war, was never mentioned. We were sick at how his bravery was treated, even though he shouldn't have broken formation to attack. That was what needed to be discussed. And of course, one other item escaped everyone. Jim thought the war was for real."

I could not believe what I was reading. I read it again. And again. You see, it was 20 years to the month that Jim had disappeared. Not only was his name leaping off the page at us, he was telling us what had happened. The family had never received this information. The sanitized, official Govt. report stated only that Capt. Herrick was flying an A1H aircraft on a reconnaissance mission with 2 other aircraft. All three entered a cloudbank, only two planes emerged. The report also stated Lt. Herrick gave no signals nor returned attempts to contact him. Twenty years later, from the pages of a paperback, Jim reached out to his family and a bit of the Truth was revealed.

Even today, in 1998, his spirit still moves among us. The young pilot who learned to fly in college ROTC, and thrilled at every moment he spent in the air, reaches out, touching his family's lives. This year, a brother who lives in Iowa, and one of the 3 who were serving in Vietnam in 1969, was sorting through a stack of old real to real tapes. He came across a tape recording Jim had made just 1 month before he was declared missing in action. Copies were made and sent to all the siblings. When the tape arrived at our house, my husband appeared hesitant to play it. He carried it around, laid it on the table, and busied himself with unimportant tasks. Several hours later he took my hand and we sat in the dark, listening, as a soft voice laced with a slight southern drawl filled the room. Tears welled up in my eyes as the words flowed around me. This was the man who had given all for his country, his family, and for me. It was as if he had reached through time and was there with us. . . . . filling the room. . . . . . sharing his daily routine. . . .asking his younger brothers about sports, about school and of course about Princess, the beloved family dog. He told his Mother not to worry - things weren't too bad over there - and asked his Dad how the car was running. He told them he loved them all and would see them soon. It was the last recording he would ever make. In the dark, his spirit was moving among us.

Looking back over the past years, I am no longer surprised when Jim's spirit and memory surfaces. Not only does he reach out to us in unexpected ways, at unexpected times, but the Government also resurrects him on a regular basis.

Just when the family begins to feel normalcy returning and the heartache dulls with the continuation of life, a manila envelope bearing the Dept. of Defense seal will arrive, splitting the emotional wounds open afresh. In a half-hearted attempt to account for the over 2500 Americans still missing in Southeast Asia, the Government continues to research, interview and corroborate information related to such cases as cannot be closed. Lt. Herrick's file cannot be closed. Excavations of the possible crash site have been on going, but results have been inconclusive. Interviews with eyewitnesses, 30 years later, have yielded - not surprisingly - conflicting descriptions that torture the imagination. Yearly packets of redundant forms, documents and status reports must be gleaned for any new tidbit of information. Sadly, little comes of it but a resurgence of heartache and poignant memories.

In November of 1977, Lt. James Wayne Herrick, Jr. was posthumously promoted to the rank of Captain, and awarded the Purple Heart, Distinguished Flying Cross, and the Air Medal. To his family he will be always loved, deeply missed, and never forgotten.

I am humbled when I realize that his sacrifice has shaped the person I am today. I owe much of my personal happiness to a young pilot whom I never met. And Jim knows this... for his spirit moves among us. I am honored to have been accepted into his strong and loving family. I proudly wear the name of Herrick.

A Tribute is given in recognition of the Living... a Eulogy is offered for the remembrance of the dead. Today, I have done both. A poem, entitled "For All Our Brothers Who Fell From The Sky", was penned by Michael Hopkins in 1995 for the veterans magazine, Echoes. It was dedicated to Capt. Herrick. I would like to close with its words:

Darkness falls without a sound
that mortal ears will ever hear,
a black lace curtain, swirling down,
the falling of a crystal tear.

So quick it cuts away the sun,
a teardrop on a candle flame,
and darkness comes to mark the place
that's empty now, but for a name.

But many times 'tween dusk and dawn,
half-hidden in the early mist,
we think of you as you once were,
bright and laughing, sunlight kissed.

About Jim

Name: James Wayne Herrick, Jr.
Rank / Branch: CAPT / US Air Force
Unit: 602nd Special Operations Squadron
Nakhon Phanom Airfield (NKP), Thailand

Date of Birth: 28 October 1944 (Guthrie County, IA)
Home of Record: Panora, IA
Date of Loss: 27 October 1969
Country of Loss: Laos
Loss Coordinates: 193110N 1035010E (UG796608)
Click on coordinates to view maps
Status (in 1973): Missing In Action
Category: 3
REFNO: 1506
Aircraft/Vehicle/Ground: A1H "Skyraider"
Other Personnel in Incident: (none missing)

Source: Compiled by Homecoming II Project from one or more of the following: raw data from U.S. Government agency sources, correspondence with POW/MIA families, published sources, interviews. Updated by the P.O.W. NETWORK.

REMARKS:

SYNOPSIS: Jim Herrick was born on a farm in Guthrie Co. Iowa, the oldest son of the Herricks. He had paralytic polio at the age of 7, but by the summer of his 8th year was completely recovered with no trace of paralysis. He had a normal, active youth.

In school at Iowa State College, Jim was in the Air Force ROTC, and went to flight school following college. He volunteered for overseas duty and was sent to Southeast Asia in May 1969.

REMARKS:

SYNOPSIS: With its fantastic capability to carry a wide range of ordnance (8,000 pounds of external armament), great flight range (out to 3,000 miles), and the ability to absorb punishment, the single-seat Douglas A1 Skyraider became one of the premier performers in the close air support and attack mission role (nickname: Spad) and RESCAP mission role (nickname: Sandy). The Skyraider served the Air Force, Navy and Marines faithfully throughout the war in Southeast Asia.

When North Vietnam began to increase its military strength in South Vietnam, NVA and Viet Cong troops again intruded on neutral Laos for sanctuary, as the Viet Minh had done during the war with the French some years before. This border road was used by the Communists to transport weapons, supplies and troops from North Vietnam into South Vietnam, and was frequently no more than a path cut through the jungle covered mountains. US forces used all assets available to them to stop this flow of men and supplies from moving south into the war zone.

On 27 October 1969, then 1st Lt. James W. Herrick, Jr., was the pilot of the #2 aircraft (aircraft #52-137539) in a flight of two, call sign "Firefly 33." The pilot of the lead aircraft was 1st Lt. James G. George, call sign "Firefly 32." The flight departed Nakhon Phanom Airfield at 1317 hours to conduct an armed reconnaissance mission in Recce Route 7, Barrel Roll, to locate and interdict enemy activity along this section of the infamous Ho Chi Minh Trail that ran through the Ban Ban Valley, Xiangkhouang Province, Laos.

Weather conditions in the target area included an overcast cloud cover with flat tops at approximately 7,000 feet and low scattered clouds. These conditions hindered the pilots’ ability to visually explore Route 7 as it ran through the valley, then through the heavily wooded and mountainous region to the east. The Skyraiders were able to set up their mission in the clear above the clouds over the center of the valley. A few of the mountain peaks protruded slightly through the cloud deck.

Both 1st Lt. George and 1st Lt. Herrick were experienced flight leader pilots whose knowledge of this region was extensive. During their pre-flight briefing, Jim Herrick told Jim George that he had been flying this particular road reconnaissance mission for the past few days. He added that "he had been watching one or two bombed out truck hulks that were located right at a 90 to 100 degree bend in Route 7 where the road turns into the "Fish’s Mouth," a landmark so named by the Americans, that then ran into North Vietnam. Further, Jim Herrick voiced his desire to "check out the truck hulks to see if they were moving them, salvaging parts or anything else." Jim George agreed to his request to check them out as they pursued the mission.

As the flight approached the target area, 1st Lt. George checked in with "Cricket," the on-site command and control aircraft, for permission to initiate their mission. Once granted, 1st Lt. Herrick held in a high orbit over the valley while 1st Lt. George did a spiraling descent on instruments through the clouds to the jungle-covered valley below. When he broke out of the clouds at an altitude of 1,000 to 2,000 feet above the ground, Jim George found the weather was quite clear with good visibility. He radioed his wingman to make the same spiral descent to join him below the clouds.

After forming up, Firefly 32 and 33 turned south to locate the road, which crossed the southern portion of the valley. With Jim Herrick flying roughly � mile behind and to the side in a trail/cover formation, they worked their way east toward the Lao/Vietnamese border and a landmark known to the pilots as the "Bird’s Head." As they proceeded east, the weather slowly deteriorated while the terrain rose gently squeezing them slightly between the clouds and the ground. As the road turned back toward the south over the Bird’s Head, the terrain became gradually lower, but at the same time, a few kilometers further south, the cloud ceiling was also lowering with the clouds looking more ragged below the cloud undercast.

After making a 360-degree turn to evaluate the current weather conditions with 1st Lt. Herrick visually following him, 1st Lt. George determined the weather conditions were too dangerous for them to continue working under the clouds. Lead radioed his intention to turn north and climb above the clouds and his wingman should follow him. This climbing right turn would take them away from the very high terrain that was to the north and east of the Bird's Head.

At 1452 hours, shortly after initiating the climbing turn, 1st Lt. George broke into the open. He looked over his shoulder expecting to see 1st Lt. Herrick break through the clouds behind him. When he did not see Firefly 33, he radioed his wingman requesting his position. Jim Herrick replied that he was in the clear over the Bird’s Head. 1st Lt. George then requested an altitude check, to which 1st Lt. Herrick replied that he was at 4,500 feet, which was approximately 1,000 feet above the ground. Firefly Lead transmitted again for his wingman to join him on top of the clouds adding that he was going to change frequencies to give Cricket an updated weather report. By the time Jim George returned to the operational frequency, he was unable to reestablish radio contact with Jim Herrick.

After contacting "Ethan," the radar control aircraft responsible for separating inbound and outbound flights from each other, Firefly Lead circled the area above the clouds. When he found no sign of his wingman at altitude, 1st Lt. George requested Cricket call in search and rescue (SAR) aircraft to conduct a formal search. Jim George then retraced their flight path beginning with another spiraling descent over the Ban Ban Valley and flying the length of Route 7 past the Bird’s Head in the same deteriorating weather he encountered earlier.

According to Jim George, "Jim Herrick had expressed a strong interest to check out the damaged truck hulks he had been watching over the past several missions located just a few kilometers further south from where I called off our Road Recce, I felt he may had decided to go on down there to have a look before climbing up. Thus, when I reached that point where we had previously stopped, I decided to continue on despite the poor weather."

Jim George went on, "The weather was much lower down by the big, sharp left turn into the Fish’s Mouth that I didn’t think I could make the turn, so I did a wide right 270-degree turn to the west, where the terrain was lower and I could stay visual, then headed back straight east to fly over the road to the east, which had high terrain immediately on both sides of it. I found myself trapped over the roadbed, but was now committed. I was under a solid 100-foot overcast, in between the rocks which formed a narrow ‘valley’ that was only a couple of wingspans wide and 100 feet tall at best – road on the bottom, mountains on both sides and solid overcast above."

With the exception of one small jog, the road ran very straight into North Vietnam. After passing that jog, Jim George did an instrument climb to a safe altitude. After studying his area terrain map to orient himself to Route 7 on the North Vietnamese side of the border, he once again descended below the clouds. Knowing he might cross the border into North Vietnam, Jim George turned off his transponder before proceeding east along Route 7. Flying below the clouds at an altitude of only 50 to 100 feet, he searched the narrow valley for his wingman. Finally he turned north in better weather inside North Vietnam, beyond the big ridgeline that had been off to his left as he flew east over the road. Having found no trace of his wingman, Jim George had no choice but to return to base.

Over the next few days, in addition to the formal SAR operation, pilots from the 602nd Special Operations Squadron thoroughly searched the Ban Ban Valley and Route 7 for signs of Jim Herrick and his aircraft. The weather remained poor with clouds obscuring the area. During a routine flight on 30 October 1969, wreckage and a burned area at the approximate last known position of 1st Lt. Herrick’s aircraft was found in the high terrain to the northeast of the Bird’s Head. Though unable to identify the wreckage as that of a Skyraider, the observer’s extensive knowledge of the area enabled him to positively state that it had not been there 5 days before when he had previously flown over the area. Further, heavy enemy activity prevented a ground search of the wreckage and the surrounding area. At the time the search was terminated, Jim Herrick was listed Missing in Action.

The crashsite was in an area heavily populated with hostile forces approximately 8 miles southeast of Ban Ban Valley, 18 miles west of the Lao/North Vietnamese border, 38 miles east of Muang Phonsavan Airfield and 41 miles east-northeast of the Plaine des Jarres. It was also 157 miles north-northwest of Nakhon Phanom Airfield.

Jim George wrote to Jim Herrick’s family about his friend and wingman: "Let there be no doubt in your mind that Jim was a good young pilot. This was true in order to be rated high enough in his pilot training class to win an assignment to the A-1, and further, to be checked out as a Fight Lead in combat. He was, like all of us, dedicated to what he was doing and determined to do it to the utmost of his ability."

1st Lt. Herrick is among nearly 600 Americans who disappeared in Laos. Many of these men were known to be alive on the ground. The Lao admitted holding "tens of tens" of American Prisoners of War, but these men were never negotiated for either by direct negotiation between our countries or the Paris Peace Accords since Laos was not a party to that agreement.

If Jim Herrick died in the loss of his Skyraider, he has the right to have his remains returned to his family, friends and country. However, if he was able to eject from his aircraft his fate, like that of other Americans who remain unaccounted for, could be quite different. Either way there is no doubt the Vietnamese or Lao could return him or his remains any time they had the desire to do so. Since the end of the Vietnam War, over 21,000 reports of American Prisoners, missing and otherwise unaccounted for have been received by our government. Many of these reports document LIVE American Prisoners of War remaining captive throughout Southeast Asia TODAY.

Pilots in Vietnam and Laos were called upon to fly in many dangerous circumstances, and were prepared to be wounded, killed or captured. It probably never occurred to them that they could be abandoned by the country they so proudly served.

James W. Herrick, Jr. graduated from Iowa State College in November 1967.

Thanks for this bio goes to Task Force Omega, Inc. - http://www.taskforceomegainc.org
Roger Herrick 01/12/2001

Letter From John J. Barrett (a Fellow Pilot)

Dear Paul, Barbara, and Cindy,

Thank you for your letters. It was a bit overwhelming, but made me realize the pain you have lived with for 30 years. Now that I look back I am aware that we were children then. I considered myself old at 30, and of the doctors I was the only one who had had any residency training (in surgery at Boston City Hospital).

If I were in such a position again I would write to every family in my squadron when there was a casualty, but at the time I wasn't smart enough. Jim's room was nest door to mine in the hooch. I was the flight surgeon for the 602nd, and I roomed with a Lt. Col. I always thought that they put me in with Dave Andrews because he was older than the other pilots and was far from rowdy. We became good friends and have remained in contact to this day.

I'll give some of my memories of the base and life on it. First of all, a good reading of Catch 22 would give you the overall atmosphere of NKP. The Air Force men were much happier there than in the US. People were doing what they had been trained for and the general spirit was very good. That is to say that, while the uppermost thought in all of our minds was to go home, people still had their sense of humor and enjoyed their friends. Each of us had his own way of dealing with our stresses, but we wrote home, read, went to the movies (an outdoor theater), made model airplanes, played softball, had stereos, took pictures, and went to the officers club. There were bands there at night - I remember that I first heard "Bad Moon" there. The 602nd had a concrete slab in front of the hooch, and we scrounged enough material to build an air-conditioned bar there for the squadron.Jim and I built a ping-pong table in the screened-in area. The food that the Air Force sent to SEA was very good quality, but was ruined by the Thai cooks. I lost weight until I got a small charcoal hibachi and used to cook on the walkway along the hooch. Jim sometimes joined us. Then the club had a cook-your-own steak set-up, and the food improved considerably.

Jim was always a gentleman, and I have always remembered that he wanted to go to Veterinary school when he got out of the Air Force. Probably he and I became friends because neither of us were quite as wild as most of the others. We each had our own jobs which took up most of our time, but it was a pleasure to be with him around the squadron.

I'm running out of room in this letter; so I'll continue later.

Best, John