Introduction of Ben Cascio
By Rusty “Gunny” Sachs, USMC (Ret.), Norwich, Vermont
At the Aviation Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony, Teterboro, New Jersey, 11 May 2000

It is not often one gets the opportunity to introduce a real hero, an actual Marine Corps legend. It’s hard to know where to begin when you talk about Ben Cascio.

Perhaps we should start with his adopted family, the Ugly Angels. HMM-362, that is, Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 362, known across the Corps as the Ugly Angels. Thirty-three years ago in Vietnam, we were tasked with a mission as sacred as it was dangerous, medical evacuation of the wounded. We flew where the fighting was thickest, entered the fray, and did everything we could to keep one another alive.

Thirty, sometimes more, years later, we still try to help each other make sense of life. We still stand by each other, bound by a loyalty that can only be forged in fire. In the business world, loyalty might mean sticking up for your friends. In the Marine Corps, loyalty means being ready to die for them.

Ben Cascio is the bravest man I have ever known, but that alone isn’t why he belongs in the Aviation Hall of Fame. Ben sets an example for us all. One of his most shining moments came half a lifetime ago, halfway around the world, when young men used terrifying skills to kill each other in a small war we still struggle to understand.

Among the Ugly Angels, Ben was known as a supremely gifted aviator, able to perform feats in the sky others dared not attempt.

But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Perhaps the best description of that horribly, wonderful night lies in the following citation:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life while serving as a helicopter pilot attached to Marine Helicopter Squadron 362 in action against enemy forces in Vietnam.

Alerted that elements of the Second Battalion, Fourth Marines had been in contact with a reinforced battalion of enemy soldiers the night of April 30, 1968, Captain Cascio led an emergency flight of two helicopters to evacuate five severely wounded Marines. Ordering his wingman to circle overhead, Captain Cascio encountered intense small arms fire as he approached the hastily prepared landing zone. Just prior to settling the aircraft on the ground, his copilot was shot and fell forward, retained only by the shoulder harness.

As the crew repelled the enemy with machine gun fire and infantrymen assisted the wounded, now totaling eight, aboard the helicopter, an enemy bullet struck Captain Cascio in the face, completely blinding him.

Captain Cascio calmly explained the situation to his crew and used his survival knife to break the glass faces of flight instruments, enabling himself to determine the aircraft’s performance by feeling the needles of the gauges with his fingertips. Guiding the helicopter with superb airmanship, and following instructions radioed to him by the crew chief and wingman, Captain Cascio safely delivered his cargo to a medical station without further loss of life.

His courageous actions reflect great credit upon himself and uphold the highest traditions of the United States Marine Corps.”

Ben’s courage under fire, his ability to remain focused in chaos that would unmake most men, makes us take note. But still, that’s not the reason he belongs in the Aviation Hall of Fame.

Ben belongs here because of the example he sets every single day. For the value he places on every human being he meets. For the respect he shows each individual, the courtesy he offers even the humblest stranger. An Act of Congress wasn’t needed to make Ben Cascio a gentleman. Ben is a gentleman because of the virtues he learned early in life.

He learned loyalty at the knee of his father, who stayed with the same employer for fifty years without missing a day of work. He learned humor and passion from his mother, born in Rome, who, since her husband was born in Sicily, always considered Ben half Italian. He learned humility from the priests of St. Michael’s Parish, and determination from his drill instructors.

Ben Cascio belongs here because of the devotion he inspires in each person he touches. When his father passed away, they found an envelope in his dresser. Stuffed inside were a pair of old, crusted, dirty, bloodstained flight gloves and a note written in a graceful, loving hand:

“These are the bloodstained flight gloves that my son Ben was wearing when wounded rescuing injured Marines in Vietnam. When I die, I would like these gloves placed between my hands with my rosary beads, so that he will always be with me.”

We salute Ben Cascio not merely for his heroism in combat, nor just for his passion for flight, or even his ability to make a helicopter dance through the clouds on laughter, silvered wings.

We salute Ben Cascio for the magnificent qualities of human spirit that he shares with us every day.

Ben’s Acceptance Speech

N.J. AVIATION HALL OF FAME
Acceptance Speech – 11 May 2000

Thank you very much. Life is good. I am really the luckiest guy in the world. Whether you believe in God, a supreme being, a superior force of nature or just plain fate – life has been very good to me.

When I was growing up, only a few miles from here, in Palisades Park, I never dreamed that I would be here tonight, in the presence of such aviation greats like Bernice Haydu, Charles Fletcher & Herb Kelleher; much less ever being considered for induction into a society with legends such as: Amelia Earhart, Charles Lindberg, Admiral Byrd, Floyd Bennett, Fred Wehran (whose daughter Carol is here tonight), Chet Decker (whose daughter & our good friend, Suzie is here tonight), & of course, our local living aviation legends – Phil Engle, Pat Reilly & Hank Esposito.

It is amazing how many people know them. Wherever I go in the aviation community, their names are synonymous with Teterboro. And now that I have finally met them, I know why.

This honor is especially significant, almost ironic, because I really never had any desire to fly an airplane. When you speak to most pilots, they almost invariably say that they always dreamed of flying, ever since they were a little kid. Me, I just wanted to jump out of them. Until the Marine Corps made me go to flight school I had never flown in an airplane, except to jump out of one. I’m probably the only person I know who had about 200 takeoffs & no landings. I single handedly disproved the aviation maxim: “The number of your takeoffs should equal the number of your landings.” But that’s a story for another day.

When I received the letter from the NJ Aviation Hall of Fame, I was really taken aback, because I couldn’t figure out why I had been chosen. I soon found out that it was through the untiring efforts of my good friend Mike McNally, who incidentally introduces himself as “Ben’s only friend.” Mike had taken this on as his personal quest; he is truly a great friend.

The next surprise was when Pat told me I should say a few words. I immediately had visions of the Academy Awards, where people thank everyone, including their hairdressers & therapists, for making them a star. Actually, I could thank my hairdresser, my cousin Rudy Ruffo, aka “Mr. Phyliss” of Joan Rivers fame; & especially my therapist, my wife Ailene, who has the patience of a Saint in accepting my eccentricities; is tolerant of my irreverent (she says: Sarcastic) sense of humor; & who has been so thoroughly supportive of my passion for flying, & understanding of my love of the Marine Corps. I guess she believes it’s only slightly better than hanging out in bars & chasing women. When we were married, our vows were to love, honor & tolerate; but I get all the love & honor, & she does all the tolerating. Thank you, my love.

But Pat said no, just tell the people something interesting about yourself & how you arrived at this point. I gave it considerable thought, & upon reflection, it became a very cathartic exercise, which made me realize that there were so many significant people in my life who contributed to my being both alive, as well as being here tonight, that I could not venture to list them all. I have also come to the realization that every person that we meet, in some small or great way affect our lives, the way we choose to live it, & ultimately our destiny.

I am proud to see that so many of the people who have influenced my life have come here tonight to do me honor. The one person who is not here, & probably influenced me the most is my father, who died a few years ago at 94. He probably accomplished more, helped & positively influenced more people in his life, than any other person I know. At 4’10” he was the biggest little man I ever knew. He would have been very proud.

• My idol & mentor growing up was my cousin Sal Cascio, who lived next door to me in Palisades Park, & was the brother that I never had. He’s here tonight, from South Carolina, with his wife Susan. He was the first person in our very large family to ever go to college. He retired after 30 years at Bergenfield High School, having been a champion high school, college & AAU Wrestler, starting & coaching the renowned Bergenfield wrestling team & was recently voted by the Bergen Record, “Coach of the Century”. His has been a hard act to follow, but something to which I aspired.
• Col. Tom Hewes, from East Hartland, Connecticut, was second in command of our squadron, The Ugly Angels, in Vietnam. He had the rare combination of brilliance, leadership, common sense & true concern for his troops, that was unheard of in Majors & above. He was the finest officer and mentor that anyone could hope to serve under. Without hesitation, we would have, & did on occasion, follow him into the gates of hell.
• Greg Armstrong, from Selden, L.I. – Good friend & squadron pilot, who was the first to be there when I woke up on the hospital ship after surgery, & I immediately showed my appreciation by throwing up all over him. He never tires of reminding me of that.
• Gunny Sachs, from Norwich, Vermont – We flew together 33 years ago in Vietnam. He has the distinction of being shot down 7 times; 3 more than me. I don’t know how much of a distinction that is; it’s sort of like we referred to the Purple Heart – “The Marksmanship Badge hung on the target”; but it earned him the reputation as the “Squadron Magnet Ass”, & then he wondered why no one wanted to fly with him. In truth, it was because he was such a great pilot, both technically & spiritually. He was a skilled & aggressive pilot, who would not hesitate to undertake the most difficult mission, or to go into a hot zone to save a fellow Marine. When I think of Gunny, it brings to mind Lindberg’s quote I have hanging on my wall above my desk: “What kind of man would live where there is no daring? I don’t believe in taking foolish chances, But nothing can be accomplished without taking any chance at all.” Not satisfied with being vilified as a “Magnet Ass”, he’s now a Lawyer & an FAA Flight Instructor & Examiner in Vermont. Talk about a disreputable combination. Consequently, he still doesn’t have many friends. Actually, I am proud to call him my friend, & my hero. I am thrilled that we still fly old YL-42 together on the Air Show circuit. I still learn new things from him every time we fly, & some are even safe.
• Jim Moriarty, from Houston, Texas – a former gunner who has the unique distinction of being the only Marine Corps Helicopter Ace; by shooting the tail off his own helicopter. Jim became a very successful attorney (after being asked to leave the Corps) & is the owner of the beautifully restored Sikorsky UH-34 Marine Corps Helicopter YL-42, that Jim, Gunny & I fly in the Air Show circuit, & which will be here at Teterboro until the end of June. Jim collects, restores & flys antique combat aircraft as a hobby. His photo can be found in the Book of Quotations under: “The difference between Men & Boys are the price of their toys.” He has given me an opportunity that only two people in this world (Gunny & I) can say, that we are flying the same aircraft that we flew in combat 33 years ago. In fact YL-42 was the first helicopter I flew on my first day of combat in Vietnam in 1967. Do you have any idea what a thrill this is? And why I believe life is good?
• Mark Stanton – then a trusted part of our Ugly Angels crew, now a stock Broker, I trust him with my money; I don’t trust you near my wife.
• Lou Cherico – a real Marine Corps legend & President of the Attilla the Hun School of Diplomacy, whose quaint colloquialisms, such as: “When Force doesn’t work, it’s because you haven’t used enough force;” & “Often wrong, but never in Doubt,” I have adopted as my own. He was singularly responsible for getting me into Fordham Law School. But that too is a story for another day.
• Bob Delgrosso – whom Lou & I recruited into the Marine Corps. He went to Vietnam & became a target for the VC sharpshooters club. Believe it or not, he still speaks to us. He just retired from a lifelong career in the FBI & now has a respectable job.
• Gene Austin & Joe Cerame, Judges of the Superior Court here in Hackensack, close friends & confidants for the last 30 years. Joe is a former Marine. Gene would have made a great Marine, but he was too intelligent and his parents were married.
• Bergen County Under Sheriff Jack Quigley, who is also the founder and President of the Nam Knights, you know that motorcycle gang that terrorizes the highways, are actually a great group of Veterans & former Law enforcement officers who perform marvelous works of charity for Veterans. A great Marine, who was brought in to get the Bergen County Sheriffs Department into shape.
• My nephew Bill Barry (Little Billie), over there in his dress Blues, who did his uncle proud by graduating Honor Man at Parris Island. (Ailene refers to it as “Paradise Island”). He has just been accepted into the NJ State Troopers.
• My Uncle Henry (actually my cousin Kay’s husband Hank Grill). He was Patton’s mechanic in Sicily, a master mechanic, a true mechanical magician. He knew everything there was about cars & trucks, & could fix anything that moved & tried to pass it on to me. When I was 13, he took me out in a vacant lot down by the lumber yard & proceeded to teach me how to drive in an old Austin, 4-speed floor shift. Being completely frustrated by my inability to coordinate the clutch & gas pedals, resulting in low-speed stall conditions, we stopped for a moment, & he said these words which I have carried with me to this day. “This is only a machine. You drive it, don’t let it drive you. Make it do what you want it to do. Let it become an extension of your mind & body, become one with the machine.” Now that was pretty profound for 1954; but I carried these words & attitude with me throughout my life.

There are people here tonight that are heroes, legends & characters; all very special people, & all of whom have contributed in some way to the person you see before you. Books can be written on each & every one of them.

Having relived that moment over & over, every night for the last 30 years, I tell them that it really wasn’t as individually heroic as they had heard, but was the result of a number of factors, all of which are available to anyone who has the desire to be a really good Marine pilot: “Attitude, Training & Teamwork”. I immediately lose their interest.

I’ve handed them down to my students & co-pilots, & these words, this mind set, this “Attitude”, played a major part in not only making me a better pilot, but was directly instrumental in saving my life on more than one occasion. It’s taken me 45 years, but thank you Uncle Henry.

The other factors were training & teamwork. The Marine Corps, unlike any other service, first trains all of its pilots to be infantrymen; because if you are going to support the grunts, you have to think like one. After you undergo infantry training you go through 18 months of flight school in both fixed wing & jets or helicopters, the longest & most intense of any of the services. And while you are out in the fleet, it is more common than not, to transition back & forth between, helicopters, jets & fixed wing aircraft. None of the other services do this; but I believe this cross training makes better pilots.

The added benefit I had was that I was also a maintenance test pilot, a carry over of Uncle Henry’s admonition to know your machine. It was there that I learned to feel & listen to the aircraft; & where we actually became physically & spiritually one.

The Marine Corps trains its men as a team. When I was hit & blinded in the zone, it was this combination of attitude, training & teamwork that got the job done & kept me alive. Believe me when I tell you that I am no hero; but I have been Blessed to have been allowed to have walked amongst them. Some of them honor me by being here tonight. The Bond of Brotherhood that we have, has been forged in the furnace of battle, & shaped on the anvil of honor, pride & tradition.

I have walked in their shadows & they have carried me along on their wings. When you surround yourself with champions, you cannot fail, you must excel by mere association. I am no hero, I just did my job as we were all trained & expected to do, as a team. Using the lessons, & experience from my earliest memory, combined with the training & teamwork engrained in The Corps, we were able to not only survive, but successfully complete the mission & save a number of critically wounded people, who would not otherwise be here today.

I was able to fly blind because they were my eyes. If it were not for that teamwork, training & loyalty to each other, I would not be here today; & there would be a few less families, children & grandchildren in existence today. And this is but one of hundreds, if not thousands of such stories, which may never be heard or written about.

If my story, having grown with retelling into legend, inspires a fledgling pilot to become a better aviator, or is responsible for saving one more life, then everything I went through will be well worth it. I have no regrets. I would change absolutely nothing in my life.

I, as many like me, originally joined the Marine Corps, to serve my country, but believe me when I tell you, that when I went into a hot zone & bullets were literally flying through the cockpit, I wasn’t thinking of the good ole’ USA, I only had one thought, & that was to get the job done & get those Marines out. Period end of story.

I did no more than many others, who deserve this recognition far more than I do, especially those who gave all & made the ultimate sacrifice for their comrades, their Corps & Country. They are my inspiration; They are my heroes; every one of them has had an impact on my life, every one of them is a part of me, & they are why you honor this man tonight. I am merely the shell of their composite being, for which mere words fail to express proper appreciation.

In honoring me tonight, you honor them, these men, my heroes. I humbly, & yet proudly, accept this honor on their behalf; THEY – who have made me the person you honor tonight.

Life is indeed good – And that is why I believe in:
Working like you don’t need the money;
Loving like you want to be loved;
& Dancing like nobody’s watching.

God bless you,
God bless America,
& God bless the Marine Corps.
SEMPER FI.

Over the past 25 or 30 years, I’ve had the privilege of flying with Ben Cascio in a UH-34D helicopter during POPASMOKE reunions, and those experiences have left a lasting impression on me. Ben is not only a legendary Marine and gifted pilot, but also a remarkable human being whose humility, loyalty, and kindness shine through in everything he does. I am truly honored to know Ben and proud to call him my friend.