The sound of salvation

There was barely a dry eye to be seen among the hundreds of Vietnam veterans at Waitangi on Sunday when the unmistakable sound of an Iroquois helicopter began echoing across the Treaty Grounds.

Known affectionately as Hueys, the choppers were the workhorse of the Vietnam War and a lifeline for those who fought there. The thudding of their rotors told soldiers mired in battle or short on supplies that help was on its way.

The fly-past of the Ohakea-based Iroquois was the highlight of a memorial service on the Treaty Ground lawns, part of the 15th Ex-Vietnam Services Association reunion.

Veteran Bill Subritzky (Manukau) said he "just about burst into tears" when he heard the chopper.

"If you were in a bit of strife and you didn't hear them, you were in big trouble. They were a Godsend," he said.

Australian veteran AB Garcia recalled watching as an Iroquois bringing his unit's supplies was hit by sniper fire and crashed into the jungle, its rotors shredding the trees "to smithereens."

"So this is pretty emotional," he said.

More than 330 veterans, a similar number of spouses and partners and a few hundred spectators gathered around the Treaty Grounds flagpole as mist rose from the Bay and karanga mingled with music of the Air Force Band.

Speeches were made by Ngapuhi leader Sonny Tau, Labour MP Shane Jones and Ngati Hine academic Erima Henare, who recalled how his father, the late Sir James Henare, last commander of the Maori Battalion, spent five years after World War II visiting every marae, church and whanau that had lost someone in his battalion. He contrasted that to the hostile reception for those who had fought in Vietnam.

"We're here today to show you the love and honour our nation didn't have the gumption to show you when you came home," he said.

MC Ross Miller (Russell) recalled that hostility, and spoke of the long-term effects of being sprayed with the herbicide Agent Orange.

He spoke of veterans being refused service in shops, and one who lived under a bridge for six months "because he couldn't face the world." Others woke screaming in the night or sought comfort in alcohol, and then came the health problems and the deformed children, which no one would acknowledge "because we'd fought in a war no one wanted to know about."

He also recalled the atmosphere of a war which cost the lives of 37 of the 4000 New Zealanders who fought in it.

"We remember the mud and the red dust, the rain and the prickly heat, the sounds of the jungle, the Australian ration pack - to this day I hate canned tuna - and the days-to-go calendar ... but we especially remember the dead," he said.

Then, as The Last Post was played, 37 flags were lowered in turn as the names of the dead were read aloud.

After a minute's silence wreaths were laid by representatives of the government, opposition, Far North District Council and armed forces as the band played and the Iroquois thudded overhead.