Though 13 years apart, the two stand on much common ground. Both are graduates of Texas A&M University. Both served as commissioned officers in the United States Army. And between 1969 and 1970 the two were battle buddies in Vietnam.

As division veterinarian for the 25th Infantry Division, Capt. Gary Gosney maintained an outpatient clinic for the Army’s war dogs in Saigon.

Stationed about 40 miles away, Lt. Col. Robert Gosney commanded the 25th Infantry Division Aviation Battalion at Cu Chi. He flew combat missions in the UH-1D Huey helicopter.

At one point in his deployment, Capt. Gosney drove to the support base at Dong Tam some 35 miles southwest of Saigon to set up a clinic for war dogs. The route was infested with enemy combatants and along the way he and his driver were nearly ambushed and killed but escaped.

The next day he set up a tent. He and his assistant neatly organized their medical supplies and were ready for business.

“I heard a helicopter overhead and it landed so close that the prop wash blew the tent down and all our supplies went flying into the mud,” Gary Gosney said.

When the pilot stepped out of the helicopter Gary said he was dumbfounded to see it was his brother.

“What are you doing here?” Gary asked.

Robert Gosney asked his brother the same question.

Robert said there had been reports of enemy movement in the Mekong Delta region and an attack was expected on Dong Tam. He said he had flown there to meet a South Vietnamese intelligence officer. While in the air enemy troops could be seen sneaking up on the little encampment ready to storm it.

“I told Gary he had better get in the Huey with me,” Robert said. “He was worried about leaving the Jeep and I told him not to worry with it - somebody would find some use for it.”

Robert said after he flew his brother to Saigon he talked to Maj. Gen. Harris W. Hollis, commanding general of the 25th Infantry , about reassigning Gary to Cu Chi. The Army had a policy of keeping brothers apart in combat zones, but Robert Gosney prevailed on Hollis to set aside the rule.

“Your brother drove through enemy territory to get to Dong Tam?” Hollis asked Lt. Col. Gosney. “I want that man here at Cu Chi to command my veterinary detachment.”

The brothers spent eight months serving together at Cu Chi.

Ia Drang Valley Rescue

Robert Gosney said earlier in his deployment he was the lead pilot for a group of 17 Hueys flying south from Pleiku along the eastern side of the mountains that shelter the Ia Drang Valley

“I switched to the command frequency to listen and see what might be going on when I heard a company commander talking to somebody saying he needed to be pulled out,” Gosney said.

An infantry rifle company was pinned down in a rice paddy surrounded by North Vietnamese regulars. They had no ammo, no artillery support and no air cover. And because of the monsoon season a hard rain and low ceiling had kept the 1st Cavalry Air Mobile Division from pulling them out, Gosney said.

Gosney said he radioed the company commander and they agreed on a plan. The Hueys would fly over the mountains and into the Ia Drang Valley and set down on rice paddy dikes near the stranded soldiers. Where that was not possible the Hueys would hover. Troops on the ground would guide them in with red lights when they heard them coming.

Gosney said he had one seasoned pilot flying trail (bringing up the rear). The rest were 19-year-old warrant officers.

“I radioed the group that if we went in over the mountains we would lose radar on the other side,” Gosney said. “We would be on instruments coming down through the rain to the bottom of the valley.”

He told them no one had to fly the mission - they could fly on back to the base. He briefed everyone on the flight plan, then called the roll by number. Everyone answered affirmatively.

Gosney said they turned on their landing lights to follow the leader and made their way through the downpour down into the valley. Gosney said they didn’t break out of the clouds until 50 feet off the ground. When he spotted the red signal lights he led the group to where the company was pinned down and ordered the M60 gunners to keep up a steady barrage of fire right and left toward enemy positions.

Gosney said they didn’t lift off until his first sergeant radioed that all 110 soldiers made it aboard. They flew the length of the valley in torrential rain at low altitude until they reached the battalion’s base at the head of the valley.

Gosney said their commander was Col. Hal Moore of Ia Drang fame who later wrote the book, “We Were Soldiers ... and Were Young” on which a movie was based.

Gosney said the rescue he made that night was not a part of that famous battle but a later one Moore led in the same valley.

“Moore came out to the helicopter and asked who I was and invited me to his bunker for coffee,” Gosney said. “I knew who he was. I told him I would accept only if coffee was sent out to the rest of my pilots.”

Gosney said Moore was astounded he had made it into the valley under the flying conditions. He had been told by 1st Cavalry Air Mobile that the rescue was impossible, Gosney said.

Dogs of War

Gary Gosney said his experiences as an Army veterinarian gave him the theme for a book he co-authored in 2007, “No Strings Attached - The Healing Power of Unconditional Love.”

Gosney said there is a special bond between animals and their owners. He said pets communicate with people in subliminal ways. He learned a lot about this when he was asked by a priest during his Vietnam tour to help a Sister Rose who administered to leper colony.

“I noticed that these lepers missing ears and noses were outcasts of society,” Gosney said. “But their pet dogs, cats and rabbits loved them without judgement. I thought that was God’s message of showing what unconditional love is about. They didn’t care.”

Gosney said during his duty in Saigon he treated the pets of high officials such as South Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu and the U.S. Ambassador and he set up an effective rabies vaccination program for the city. But he also treated the pets of any resident of Saigon that requested help.

“They didn’t have veterinarians in Vietnam - they didn’t even have a word for it,” Gosney said. ‘They called me frog doctor.”

Gosney said his primary mission was treating tunnel dogs, sentry dogs, scout dogs, and tracking dogs and dogs that could see trip wires for land mines and booby traps and smell the bubbles of scuba divers coming up under water craft.

He said tunnel dogs ferreted out the Viet Cong who hid in tunnels they dug near encampments to ambush U.S. forces. He said he rarely treated a tunnel dog because they were lethal killers and got to the enemy first.