Eric George Blantin

The database page for Eric George Blantin

27 Aug 2007 I met Eric in early April, 1969 when he came home to visit his parents in Connecticut before heading to Vietnam. We met at the Fore N' Aft in Brewster, New York, where I went on weekends to dance. He asked me to dance, and we danced together the rest of the evening and talked. Being he was such a good-looking guy, I asked him if he had a girlfriend. He said, "Well, they think they're my girlfriend, but I know they aren't." He then asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I said the same was true for me, too. With that question out of the way, we both relaxed in each other's company and continued dancing and talking. At the end of the evening, we definitely wanted to see each other again, so we sat in his little green MBG-GT and made plans for him to come over to my parents' house in N.Y. the following day. He showed up that afternoon, and after playing some pool in my parents' basement, we went out that evening to a drive-in movie in Tarrytown and saw "The Russians are Coming." We talked on the telephone and spent as much time together as we could, going to movies, eating out, and talking and kidding with each other. We were content just being together. He laughed a lot, and when I asked him why he was always laughing, he said he was happy. When it really hit me just how little time we had left to spend together, I offered to play hooky from work one day, and he invited me over to his parents' house in Newtown to spend the day with him. We talked and laid on the couch watching cartoons, and sometime during the day he gave me his 1st Infantry Division patch. He had totaled his MBG-GT in an accident during the time he was home and had some stitches on the side of his forehead. So, that afternoon he drove my little Chevy Nova, and we went to Danbury Hospital so he could get the stitches out. Later in the day I met his folks and his sisters, Diane and Merry, and I stayed for dinner. Eric and I connected on a very deep, caring, and loving level during our time together. The last night Eric and I were together was the Saturday night before he left for Vietnam. We had gone to a movie in Mt. Kisco and out to eat. It was difficult to know how to say goodbye when he took me home. There was still so much to say and do together, but he had to leave the next morning. He finally said, "I know we're not engaged, but I'd like to see you when I get out." I said I would be waiting for him, and I was. I was totally committed to him; heart and soul. It was a month before I got my first of seven letters from Eric. It was five pages long. He confirmed his strong feelings for me and wrote, "If things work out, I'll see you in 365 days - short." Over the course of his time there, he wrote about his platoon leader getting shot down, Jeanne Dixon's predictions, his 4-year-old Vietnamese girlfriend, seeing his buddies getting killed, having to swim up out of 15 feet of water when his helicopter went down, visiting Saigon, saying how all of a sudden things got so old over there, suffering from dysentery, wanting to see a peaceful Vietnamese village someday, and other more personal things. I asked him questions about shrapnel and the helicopters he was flying, and he sent me pieces of shrapnel and pictures of the helicopters. He informed me the P.F.P. he always put on his envelopes stood for "Pray for Peace". For my birthday in July, 1969, he sent me a painting he bought in Saigon of a Vietnam village, An Binh. I was ten months older than Eric, and he got a real kick out of saying that he was dating "an older woman". While in Vietnam, Eric wanted me to visit his parents, so he arranged with them to have me over for a visit. I went to their house and spent some quality time with them. They shared Eric's audiotapes with me. It was good to hear his voice. It was obvious to me from what he said that he cared greatly about his younger sisters. My last letter from Eric was dated in October, 1969. I was in California visiting relatives for Thanksgiving when Mrs. Blantin called my parents and told them about Eric's death. (At some point I also received a letter from the Army.) My parents chose not to call me in California to tell me but waited until I came home. I got home from the airport late on that Saturday night after Thanksgiving and was looking forward to seeing if there was a letter from Eric. Instead, I was hit with the horrible news. I was devastated. I just never thought it would happen to him. The funeral was the next Tuesday. Somehow I managed to drive over to Newtown for the funeral. I remember it was snowing that morning, and I could hardly see between the snow coming down and the fact I was crying so much. I also remember how disappointed I was to see that his casket was closed. I never got to see Eric again. The Blantins invited me to their house after the funeral, and I remember mustering up all of my courage in order to tell Mrs. Blantin that Eric was the nicest guy I had ever met. It was just so important to me that she knew how I felt about him. I visited Eric's grave in 1972, and in July, 2001, I felt a need to once again pay my respects. I also felt I wanted to try to reconnect with Mr. and Mrs. Blantin if it was possible. (We were all getting older, and I guess I was lucky because both Mr. and Mrs. Blantin have since passed away.) I called Eric's folks to get directions to the cemetery as it had been a long time since I had been there. Mrs. Blantin answered but said her husband would be better at giving directions, so she handed the telephone over to him. Mr. Blantin got on the telephone, and I told him who I was and what I was calling about. He said, "Oh, the Smith girl. You were over here a couple of times." He said they would meet me at the cemetery. They did, and afterwards they invited me to their house for lunch. They shared Eric's letters with me and other personal effects of his, and we talked. Mr. Blantin, for some reason and out of the blue, pointed out to me the exact spot I was sitting at their house after coming there after the funeral and said, "You were sitting right there". I was shocked that he would remember such a thing. In talking further with Mrs. Blantin, she finally said, "So, you were the last one to see Eric." I was, and I am glad I had that privilege. So, that's the story of my relationship with Eric. Rather lengthy, but it's a relief to finally have a place to share it. Thank you for that. Eric was the most caring, loving young man I ever met, and he will forever hold a permanent and special place in my heart. From his girlfriend, Donna M. Smith dnokomis@visi.com 1972 1972 2001

A Note from The Virtual Wall Two men were killed when OH-6A tail number 66-07776 exploded during preflight inspection at Vinh Long Airfield - pilot WO Eric G. Blantin and crew chief SP5 James M. Dale of Sedalia, Missouri. The cause of the explosion is not known.

The point-of-contact for this memorial is his girlfriend, Donna M. Smith dnokomis@visi.com

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With all respect
Jim Schueckler, former CW2, US Army
Ken Davis, Commander, United States Navy (Ret)
Memorial first published on 27 Aug 2007
Last updated 11/29/2007