BAY RIDGE — The retired helicopter pilot took a sip of coffee and reflected on how the U.S. Army gave him discipline, tradition, and purpose, plus ample opportunities to feed his need for breakneck speed.
Bill Miller (no relation to the author of this article) is 84 and moves much more slowly than he did nearly 60 years ago while flying attack helicopters in the Vietnam War. But you won’t find this recent widower planted on a sofa.
He is a regular Sunday lector at St. Patrick Parish in Bay Ridge.
Miller was stationed at nearby Fort Hamilton, where, after 18 years in the Army, he rejoined civilian life as a commercial helicopter pilot. He worked for clients in New York and New Jersey until a heart attack permanently grounded him.
Still, he’s not shy about testing his physical limits.
“To give you an idea,” he said with a laugh, “I went roller skating last Friday night, and I got three cracked ribs to prove it! I don’t know; I guess I’ve always been a thrill seeker.
“I like things on the edge.”
Scars as Proof
The Tablet caught up with Miller for coffee on Feb. 26 at one of his favorite Bay Ridge haunts, Pasticceria Rocco on 4th Avenue.
He described his youth on a dairy farm in Litchfield, a small community in central New York. In school, he excelled in math and science, played sports, and sang in choirs. He also had a penchant for thrilling pastimes, like racing cars.
“It’s like I told my friends a long time ago,” Miller recalled. “ ‘I got two speeds: idle and wide open.’ ”
Miller’s father was a U.S. Army infantryman during World War II who survived the “Battle of the Bulge. “The scars gouged into the man’s body were the only proof he had been severely wounded. According to his son, he never discussed the war.
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Only One Showed
Although he saw what combat did to his dad, Miller said he was drawn to the military as a young man, even as the U.S. involvement in Vietnam was beginning to churn anti-war passions back home.
Nevertheless, Miller recalled how, as a biology student at Utica College, he watched a war movie with buddies at the student union.
He turned to them and said, “We ought to be doing that.”
So, with one semester short of graduation, Miller and his friends agreed to meet at the local Army recruiter’s office, but he was the only one who showed.
Fell Right into It
Miller had second thoughts about enlisting, but a recruiter gigged him, saying he probably couldn’t pass the entrance tests. At the time, a college student, he took that as a challenge and soon found himself in basic training.
“I fell right into it,” Miller said. “From the first minute — the marching, the training, and being a part of that group — I just loved it.”
Army brass saw potential in the recruit because of his background in math and science. First, they sent him for artillery training, but he gravitated to aviation and soon qualified for helicopter flight school.
“I wanted to go to Vietnam,” he said flatly. “It looked exciting.”
‘All I Cared About’
Miller deployed in 1969 with D Troop, 1st of the 10th Cavalry Regiment. The unit at the time was assigned to support the 4th Infantry Division, which operated near Pleiku in the Central Highlands.
Although anti-war protests roiled at home, Miller stayed focused on piloting AH-1G “Cobra” attack helicopters on hunter-killer missions near Vietnam’s border with Cambodia.
The strategy involved OH-6A scout helicopters — smaller than the Cobras — flying at tree-top level as bait, drawing fire from the North Vietnamese Army (NVA).
Next, the armor-plated Cobras swooped in to hit the enemy with machinegun fire, 40mm grenades, and rockets.
Miller said he thrived at this mission, but not out of bloodlust.
He said his job was to eliminate enemy troops before they could kill the scout helicopter crews or the U.S. foot soldiers on the ground.
And despite the dangers, Miller said he had no ill feelings toward NVA troops.
“I mean, that was their job, and that was my job,” he said. “All I cared about was the guys I flew with.”
Unscathed but Vulnerable
Ever the thrill seeker, Miller volunteered to fly his regiment’s UH-1D helicopters, ferrying infantrymen in and out of combat.
Occasionally, he volunteered to man the M-60 machinegun on a scout helicopter, which, he admitted, got him into trouble with commanders who were more concerned about keeping their Cobra pilots flying.
Miller said he was never afraid — at least not in Vietnam — because he believed God was looking out for him. He returned home unscathed, which made him believe he was “bulletproof.”
But there wasn’t anything like armor plating to shield him from life’s tragedies.
Miller said he attended a Presbyterian church as a kid in Litchfield. He didn’t feel particularly spiritual until his 40s, when he converted to Catholicism.
His first marriage ended in divorce, and his daughter from that union died as a young woman, which tested his faith in God.
At that time, he was a member of St. Athanasius Parish in Bensonhurst. He praised the pastor at that time, now-retired Msgr. David Cassato, for counseling him through his grief.
From Bay Ridge to Big Stage
Miller subsequently moved to Bay Ridge and joined St. Patrick Parish. He also volunteered to work the front desk at the nearby Brooklyn VA Medical Center.
At the VA, he learned about an opportunity to audition to be in a chorus of veterans for the 2012 “Stand Up for Heroes” fundraising benefit. It was led by former Pink Floyd frontman Roger Waters at New York City’s Madison Square Garden.
Best 60 Days
Tragedy struck again last summer when Margaret, Miller’s wife for 40 years, became ill with a brain tumor.
His new mission became her round-the-clock hospice care until she died last September, just 60 days after the diagnosis.
“It was the best 60 days of my life,” he said, “because I was with her, 24/7. For once, I could do something for her because she was always, ‘Oh, I can do it.’
“Towards the end, she couldn’t talk. And I remember I was looking at her, and she looked at me — I don’t know — tenderly, I guess you might say.”
Mission Focused
Now Miller looks forward to a new mission — although he’s not sure what it could be — and prays that God will reveal it soon.
And although he wasn’t scared in combat, he is now.
“I’m afraid of what he might want,” Miller said of his future task. “To tell you the truth, I want to be up to the task, whatever it is. I think it might be helping people.
“But he’s got a mission, obviously, because he saved my butt too many times not to have something for me to do.”
