CPT Gary"Squeaky" Barnett
Ghost Rider 1st Platoon
KIA Mar 21, 1970 just west of Camp Evans.

"Few fellow Ghost Riders really knew "Squeaky". He was short, had cartoonish-like features, and a high-pitched raspy voice that earned him his call sign. But aside from his physical attributes, he kept to himself, did not party with the rest of us, and was very introspective in his off-duty time with meditation. He was proud of the fact that he carried a .45 with his own meticulous modifications, while the rest of us carried the standard issue S&W .38 revolver.
Gary was very much into the Oriental practices and philosophy; He regularly consumed Ginseng and meditated for hours, and routinely slept with his helmet on to block out any "party" noises. He occupied the bunk next to me, but very few words were ever exchanged. He was always an early-riser.
On the day of his death, he arose early enough to pen a letter to leave on his tightly made poncho liner bunk. The envelope was addressed "'Stache".
When I opened it, it read simply:
        'Stache,
     I will not return from my mission today.
     Please make sure that my wife gets my personal effects.
    Gary
Less than an hour later, Squeaky was shot down on the ridgeline just west of Camp Evans.
His premonition has haunted me for years. But I know that he is resting in his own peace.
...
Larry "'Stache" Smith - 1st Platoon Section Leader & Friend

MY MEMORIAL POEM FOR MY FRIEND, "SQUEAKY"
  by
CW2 GUENTHER K. FRITSCH "RED BARON" Mar 1970

"LAST MISSION"

  I AM WAITING, FOR ALL PEOPLE AND CARGO PUT ON BOARD,
MY ROTOR BLADES AND JET ENGINE ARE SCREAMING,
LIKE THE AIR, BEING CUT BY A SWORD.
  IN THE WIND, THE GREEN GRASS IS BLOWING,
OH, WHAT COMFORT TO OUR EYES,
ANTICIPATION AND FEAR IS GROWING.
  YES, WE ARE OFF AND ON THE GO,
THE GRASS IS FADING, WHO, IS NEXT? WE DON'T KNOW.
  OUR BIRD IS RISING AND FLYING HIGH,
THE ENGINE ROARING AND STARTING TO SHAKE,
THE GRASS IS GONE AND THE CLOUDS DRAWING NIGH.
  RADIOS CRACKLING, CONTACT LOST,
WE ARE TAKING FIRE, OH THAT PAIN,
OUR BIRD SHUTTERS, BODIES PIERCED, WHAT A COST.
  THE BIRD KEEPS CLIMBING AND STARTING TO BURN,
THE GRASS IS NO MORE, PAIN IS GROWING,
OH GOD I PRAY, TO SEE YOUR FACE, FOR THAT I YEARN.
  THAT LIGHT IS BLINDING, I CAN'T SEE,
THANK YOU LORD, WE HAVE ARRIVED, WE AT LAST, ARE FREE!


CREW OF AC GHOSTRIDER 635:
21 March 1970: 

  • CPT GARY JOE BARNETT "SQUEAKY"

  • CPT ROBERT STANLEY RICHMOND "Volunteer" 

  •  SSGT RICHARD LEE EHNES

  • SP4 RONALD WAYNE WILLIAM

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