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.
The reality of what I found after my arrival was probably much like GI’s experienced in Iraq or Afghanistan, where the violence of war is not tidily contained but jumps out at you when you least expect it. Even for a lowly supply sergeant like myself strategically positioned behind a desk, there were those moments, vividly illustrating the effects of war. The random acts of violence and how it changes things so quickly. There were the night ambushes we were encouraged to volunteer for, sometimes resulting in black partially unzipped body bags on display in front of the chow hall, the morning after. Viewing of late night
The night ambushes taking the lives of purportedly VC's (Vietnamese communist) but looking down on those lifeless faces I couldn't help but think - maybe in fact, they were just
some luckless folk out for an evening stroll,
only to stumble into a bunch of heavily armed combatants playing war.
Anyway, I was never really sure about the effectiveness of these actions, other than
pissing off the Vietnamese family and friends of the one taken out. Overall it seemed surreal for a bunch of
guys who were pencil pushers and mechanics during the day to hide in the bush
on their own time and shoot the first guy that walked by. So for guys like me, not drawn to the thrill
of night ambushes and whose tropical fantasies were squashed by the napalm ravaged landscape, there was the perennial favorite of spending evenings watching tracer bullets
from a top the bunker. That is, until they found us.
Time moved much slower back then and my year in Phu Cat seemed to go on for ever. When it did finely end it was a strange feeling to find my self back in the states and unceremoniously released to civilian life. I was only a few days out of Vietnam, a very short haired, skinny civilian with a great suntan standing at the airport. My worldly possessions slung over my shoulder, with a plane ticket to Flint, Michigan in hand as I sightlessly stared into the horizon at the rest of my life.
The first years back from Nam as a civilian was interesting and offered up the craziest times of my life. Involving speeding tickets, wrecked cars, lots of booze and pills, romances gone arie, an attempted return to college - bet you can guess how that one turned out. After a while life did stabilize, though the Vietnam experience and life there stayed with me and I was to never get over it.
To be continued - Return to Vietnam
(link to part 3)
The first years back from Nam as a civilian was interesting and offered up the craziest times of my life. Involving speeding tickets, wrecked cars, lots of booze and pills, romances gone arie, an attempted return to college - bet you can guess how that one turned out. After a while life did stabilize, though the Vietnam experience and life there stayed with me and I was to never get over it.
 |
| Thanks for stopping by - |
To be continued - Return to Vietnam
(link to part 3)
