VETERAN OF THE DAY
LIEUTENANT COLONEL RICHARD ALLEN BROWN
United States Air Force
311th Special Operations Squadron
315th Special Operations Wing
Vietnam War
September 8, 1923 – December 17, 1968
Washington, District of Columbia
Honored on Panel 36W, Line 33 of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial
THE MAN IN THE COMMAND SEAT
Richard Allen Brown was born on September 8, 1923.
By the time the United States was deeply engaged in Vietnam, Brown was not a young lieutenant beginning his military journey.
He was a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Air Force.
He was forty-five years old.
And on December 17, 1968, Lieutenant Colonel Brown was serving as an aircraft commander aboard one of the workhorses of the Vietnam War:
the Fairchild C-123K Provider.
The aircraft was built to carry people, supplies, and equipment into places where conventional transportation was difficult or impossible.
Its crews flew where they were needed.
And on that December day, Richard Brown was in the cockpit.
THE C-123 PROVIDER
The Fairchild C-123 Provider was not glamorous.
It was a transport aircraft.
But in Vietnam, aircraft like the Provider were lifelines.
They moved troops.
They carried supplies.
They transported personnel between bases.
They reached airfields scattered throughout a country where roads could be dangerous, slow or nonexistent.
Brown’s aircraft was C-123K serial number 54-0708, associated with the 315th Special Operations Wing.
Brown himself was assigned to the 311th Special Operations Squadron.
On December 17, the aircraft departed Chu Lai Air Base.
It would not complete its flight.
DECEMBER 17, 1968
Shortly after takeoff, something went terribly wrong.
Historical accounts of the accident report a problem with the aircraft’s fuel-transfer system.
That problem eventually contributed to an engine failure.
The heavily loaded Provider was only a few miles from Chu Lai when the emergency developed.
There was little altitude.
Little time.
And very little room for recovery.
The aircraft went down.
Lieutenant Colonel Richard Allen Brown was killed.
So were fellow aircrew members First Lieutenant Roger Henry Strout and Staff Sergeant Jesse John Bradshaw.
Numerous Army personnel aboard the aircraft were also killed in the crash, and several survivors later died from the devastating injuries and burns they suffered.
What had begun as a routine transport mission had become one of those tragedies of war that involved no enemy bullet and yet extracted an enormous price.
THE MEN ABOARD
The aircraft was carrying American servicemen representing several commands and specialties.
Among those identified as having died in the immediate crash were Army officers and enlisted men serving with organizations that included the Americal Division, XXIV Corps, the 44th Medical Brigade, signal units, psychological operations and transportation organizations.
Other men survived the initial impact only to succumb later to severe burns and other injuries.
Different historical sources count the losses somewhat differently depending upon whether they include only those killed immediately or those who later died from injuries.
But one thing is beyond dispute:
December 17, 1968 became the final mission for Lieutenant Colonel Richard Allen Brown.
NOT EVERY DEATH IN WAR COMES FROM ENEMY FIRE
When we think of Vietnam casualties, we naturally picture firefights, ambushes, artillery and helicopters falling beneath enemy fire.
But war kills in other ways.
Aircraft malfunction.
Weather.
Mechanical failure.
Accidents.
The relentless requirement to keep moving men and equipment through a combat zone.
Every transport mission carried risk.
Every takeoff required men to trust the aircraft beneath them and the crew beside them.
Richard Brown sat in the command position carrying that responsibility.
When the emergency came, it came only minutes after takeoff.
There was no long warning.
There was no safe place waiting below.
A CAREER OFFICER
Brown’s age tells us something important about his story.
At forty-five, he belonged to a different generation than many of the nineteen-, twenty-, and twenty-one-year-old names surrounding his on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
He had already lived through decades of enormous change in America.
He was born in 1923.
He was already a young man during the Second World War era.
By 1968, he had risen through the officer ranks of the United States Air Force to Lieutenant Colonel.
That rank was earned through years of responsibility, leadership and service.
The younger airmen around him could look toward officers such as Brown and see experience.
On December 17, 1968, that experience was sitting in the cockpit of C-123K 54-0708.
PANEL 36 WEST
Today, his name appears on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial:
RICHARD A BROWN
Panel 36W
Line 33
There is something especially poignant about the Wall on days like this.
Richard Brown is surrounded by other men who died on December 17, 1968.
Some were on the same aircraft.
Separate hometowns.
Separate military units.
Separate lives.
One airplane brought their stories together.
And black granite keeps them together still.
A NOTE ABOUT HIS CASUALTY RECORD
The official Wall information lists Richard Brown’s casualty province as Ninh Thuan, the province containing Phan Rang, where his Air Force organization operated.
Historical accounts of the aircraft loss, however, place the crash itself shortly after departure from Chu Lai Air Base, several miles from the field.
Rather than erase that difference, we preserve both pieces of the historical record.
Because remembering a veteran correctly sometimes means acknowledging where surviving records do not fit together perfectly.
The important fact never changes:
Richard Allen Brown died while serving his country in Vietnam on December 17, 1968.
FINAL SALUTE
More than fifty-seven years have passed since C-123K 54-0708 lifted away from Chu Lai.
For the men aboard, it was simply another flight.
There was another destination ahead.
Another mission.
Another day’s work in a war thousands of miles from home.
Lieutenant Colonel Richard Brown took his place in the cockpit.
Minutes later, everything changed.
Today we remember not only the moment his aircraft fell, but the officer who occupied its command seat.
A man who had risen to Lieutenant Colonel.
An Air Force officer entrusted with an aircraft, a crew and the lives of those aboard.
A forty-five-year-old American who did not return home.
His name is not merely one of more than 58,000 names carved into black granite.
Today there is only one name before us.
RICHARD ALLEN BROWN
Lieutenant Colonel.
United States Air Force.
Aircraft Commander.
American.
Rest easy, Colonel.
Your final flight is complete.
Honor the Fallen. Support the Living. Teach the Next Generation
Veteran of the Day •
The Micky Spano Show • VetVault.org
A particularly strong detail for the website is that VVMF’s account of the same C-123 loss identifies Brown specifically as the aircraft commander, with 1st Lt. Roger Strout as co-pilot and SSgt. Jesse Bradshaw as flight engineer. VVMF reports 44 people aboard, with three crewmen and nine passengers killed in the crash; additional passengers subsequently died of their injuries. (Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund)
There is also independent aviation-history support for the mechanical sequence: C-123K 54-0708 developed fuel-transfer problems after departing Chu Lai, followed by engine trouble and the crash.