Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Then it was Vietnam - part 3

The chief comes over and says "Welcome to Vietnam" and I'm thinking, "as a supply sergeant I don't think I'm supposed to be doing this kind of stuff ".  An hour or so later we landed at Quin Nhon, the second leg of what turned out to be a three leg trip to my new duty station. 




 According to my orders Quin Nhon was my ultimate destination and so once arrived I searched out the duty clerk and reported for duty.  He handled me with a manner of someone of high importance, forced by some unfair twist of fate to deal with airman like me. Looking down at my orders he make a clicking sound with his tongue and mumbled "Nope, you're not here." As he vaguely nodded toward a couple blackboards toward the rear of tent. Yup, there I was caulked in on the Phu Cat board.  I wondered what and where Phu Cat was and all the while thinking how much more reassuring those multi-copy orders were than just a name chalked in on one of his blackboards.  So, lets see, if I erased my name could I go any where I wanted? 


But, it's too late to split, as the duty sergeant says over his shoulder, "ya, Phu Cat, too late now, Charlie is out, Take that bunk over their," as he went on to tell me that in the morning I was to get out by Hwy 1 and "flag down one of the convoyed Army trucks heading up towards Phu Cat".


I awoke to the rumble of military traffic or being new to all this, what I guessed military traffic might might sound like in a war zone.  I rolled out of the tent, got a cup of coffee, sipping this while looking for friendly face to gain insight into convoy affairs. You know basic stuff, such as how do I tell where a convoy is going and even more vexing, how does a guy flag down a truck out of a mass of fast moving, tightly spaced vehicles.   

Meanwhile, as I stand by the side of the road, my duffel slung over my shoulder and a deer in the headlights look on my face as a deuce and a half pulls out of the convoy and rolls to a stop in front of me. The flak-vested driver hollers out at me, "climb aboard".  Next to him in the cab is a cobbled together bracket holding a shotgun standing straight up, sorta like you see in some squad cars in the states. With A bottle of Jack poking its neck out from under the seat. 


After, what for the most  part was an uneventful trip the driver pulled his rig out of the convoy to a stop at the side of the road, "end of the line, you're their" he says. After I had stumbled out with my gear, he immediately pulled back into the convoy,I was left looking down a dusty lane. Off to left down the lane I could just make out a hand lettered cardboard sign saying - Phu Cat with an arrow pointing down the lane. I start walking and just over the hill the twin gun towers flanking the main gate came into view. Four days after checking in at San Francisco I had arrived into the war.


To be continued -


(link to part 2)