War
veterans seldom reveal their combat experiences, and Ocean Isle Beach resident Jim Milstead was no exception — until recently. A phone call on December 13, 2011, freed a host of memories sealed in Milstead’s mind since 1971. The caller identified himself as Jack Gang and mentioned someone from Milstead’s past: Soan Ngo (pronounced Sean No). “He’s been trying to find you for 40 years,” Gang said. “I’m not pulling your leg. He’s a success and owns a Japanese Steakhouse, Shogun, in Venice, Florida.” Ngo had told Gang how Milstead helped him improve his English and how they shared their hopes and dreams when they patrolled the waters of Vietnam on Tango 1277, River Division 41. “Soan remembers everything up until he got shot,” Gang told Milstead. “He has no memory of the bombing. He woke up in a hospital.” After the call, Milstead’s emotions collided. “I hung up and walked outside,” he says. He remembered the South Vietnamese sailor who spoke some English, loved America and wanted to move to the States. “We were both 20 at the time,” Milstead says. “He was always smiling, always friendly.” Milstead had sustained wounds from shrapnel in the January 4, 1971, attack by the Viet Cong, but he believed Ngo and the other five men on board their riverboat were killed. The memories remained painful, so when Ngo called a half-hour later, “I couldn’t pick it up,” Milstead says. He listened to Ngo’s message and settled his anxiety before he returned the call. The conversation renewed the agonizing sorrow. When his wife, Cathy, came home, Milstead was sitting on the porch swing.
“He was talking in bits and pieces,” Cathy says. “He was scaring me.” She thought her husband of 38 years was telling her he had a son in Vietnam. “Soan sounds like son,” she says. Cathy then heard her husband’s account of his war experiences for the first time. “I’ve never seen him so emotional,” she says. “It was a closed door. Now it’s open. I think it’s good therapy for him.” The Milsteads traveled to Florida over Presidents’ Day weekend in February to meet the Ngos. Both 62, each man now has three grown children and grandchildren. “Both of us were very quiet for a few moments,” Ngo says about their reunion. “Every time I have a pain, I remember what happened in the war, and I remember Jim. He put me on a helicopter. He saved me.” Milstead, who earned two Purple Hearts, a Bronze Star with V for Valor and several other commendations, downplays his role. “We were in the Ca Mau Peninsula, as far south as you can go in Vietnam,” he says. He stops and takes a deep breath before going on. “Every time we went out, it was bad. The Viet Cong owned that part of the country.” He stops again. “I knew several rockets hit the boat.” He learned later that 11 rockets hit the boat. “Soan asked for his glasses,” Milstead remembers. “That was the most important thing to him. I found his glasses and gave them to him.” He shakes his head. “Soan’s face was a bloody pulp. I had to get him on a helicopter.” He pauses and looks down. “I had superficial wounds,” he says. “I was told all the others were dead.” A helicopter took Milstead to the base to treat his wounds, and within a week he was back on patrol. He dismisses the extreme stress the experience caused. “A tour of duty is a tour of duty,” he says. In April 1971 he was wounded again and sent to Philadelphia Naval Hospital.
hold Jim Milstead and Soan Ngo and the picture taken of them m. their crewmates in Vietna
Jim Milstead wa s old when he serv20 years Vietna m from 19 ed in 70-71.
This picture of Rich Mur Jim Milstead and Ray Ket ray (left), cha m led to a reu nion 40 years in the making.
ebrated Cathy and Jim Milstead cel ized to can eri (Am h with Soan and Han taurant, Han nah) Ngo at the Ngos’ res Shogun, in Venice, Florida. Spring 2012
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