Brian Conway was born in New Jersey, where he attended high school and college. As a

student at Seton Hall, he participated in the ROTC program. Since the army would pay for him

to take flying lessons, Brian took advantage of the perk and resolved to master how to fly a “fixed wing” plane. The student acquired the skill, earned his degree, and graduated with a commission in the U.S. Army.

Once on active duty, the newly inducted soldier trained for four months, learning to fly

helicopters. He divided his training between Fort Walters in Texas and Fort Rucker in Alabama.

In 1963, he got his assignment. He was off to Saigon, Vietnam. He flew his chopper between

Pleiku and Ca Mau as a Medical Evacuation Pilot. His father had driven an ambulance in

France in WWI. Although Dad operated his ambulance firmly on the ground, Brian flew his

vehicle of choice high above Terra Firma. As is so often said, “You can’t make this stuff up!”

The call sign for a chopper’s mission to save those left behind was Dustoff. A call sign usually

gets changed periodically – sort of like what we should all do with our passwords. We receive

constant reminders to take care of this housekeeping task. Brian’s commanding officer was

getting this type of message constantly, but he challenged his superiors. He strongly resisted

changing the call name in any way. He wanted Dustoff to remain indefinitely and refused to

relent. Today, that code name is still in existence. The goal remains for every GI to know they

can call Dustoff on their squawk box for help.

There are always two pilots assigned to a mission. A crew chief and a medic accompany them

at all times. The protocol is for the pilots to remain in the helicopter while the other two perform

the transport. The intention is if one of the pilots is wounded, there is another pilot to take over

the controls and bring everyone to safety.

In Brian’s first six months in Nam, he evacuated about two hundred GIs and four hundred

civilians. Young Brian probably had no idea how dangerous his assignments were, how many

men would suffer injury or death carrying out these missions, or how long the conflict would last. 

On one of his missions, the crew’s assignment was to rescue a GI who had given the “all clear” signal. That signal proved to be inaccurate. Brian took a 30-caliber armor piercing that went through his right ankle, destroying his talus bone. The incident occurred fifty feet in the air and afforded Brian the dubious honor of becoming the first Dustoff crew member injured in combat. Three hundred and ninety-seven of his brothers would follow. An additional one hundred and ninety-seven would be listed as Killed In Action.

The Dustoff helicopter pilots, crew chiefs, and medics evacuated more than 900,000 people

between May 1962 and March 1973. The Vietnam Helicopter Pilots Association put the number

of helicopters in Vietnam at 11,827; a total of 5,086 were destroyed. 

The organization estimates that over 100,000 people served in Dustoff in Vietnam; more than 4,800 of them were killed in action. Arlington National Cemetery is home to more than 300 crew members.

After being wounded, Brian couldn’t walk. He was sent to Valley Forge Hospital outside of

Philadelphia to recuperate for six months. He left the hospital for his new assignment stateside

at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. He spent the winter in Alaska and the next two years in

Lanzstuhl, Germany, where he met his wife, Barbara. Once he and Barbara planted their feet on American soil, they settled in Fort Meade, Maryland.

With a child on the way, it was time for Brian to resign from the regular army and enter the

Reserves. He found his civilian mission in the investment business and worked in the

management arena. The Conway family grew to include three children, and the family of five

began to travel the country, setting up residences in New Jersey, Missouri, and Massachusetts.

Once in Massachusetts, they settled in Barnstable on Cape Cod. Brian retired in Barnstable and became a “snowbird” on Florida’s east coast.

It is no surprise that by 2019, Brian and Barbara were looking for a more active community.

They did not have to go far this time. They traveled to the west coast of Florida, fell in love with

Pelican Preserve, and settled in Palazzo.