I was greeted by a cardboard sign, nailed to a
tree, located around a bend, at the top of a hill, with an arrow pointing to a
lot of construction - Phu Cat, the sign simply stated.
The Vietnam War now is just a past memory to people
like me; while many younger ones only know of North Vietnam with no memories of
a divided North and South nation. Tall buildings
have sprouted in the main centers of commerce, even a subway is being built in
Saigon. Though, Vietnam is still a place you feel more than see. Many people ask me what sights I recommend and
I always reply - pick a corner, hang out and there it is.
Graham
Greene in his book The Quiet
American said it best -
"I can’t say what made me fall in love with Vietnam - that a woman’s voice can
drug you; that everything is so intense. The colors, the taste, even the rain.
Nothing like the filthy rain in London. They say whatever you’re looking for,
you will find here. They say you come to Vietnam and you understand a lot in a
few minutes, but the rest has got to be lived. The smell: that’s the first
thing that hits you, promising everything in exchange for your soul. And the
heat. Your shirt is straightaway a rag. You can hardly remember your name, or
what you came to escape from. But at night, there’s a breeze.”
For me I'll be back there in a few months - what’s
this, my 17th or 18th trip, not really sure. I do know that once Vietnam gets her hooks into
you it’s hard to pull away.
1967 was my first step outside the states and that
was to Vietnam. Like me at the time many had
no idea what to expect in the war or what was to be expected of them. My trip over was good,
flew
aboard a commercial flight, reasonable food, cute stewardess and all that. Arriving at Tan Sơn Nhat which seemed pretty much the same as any large base in the states, all the buildings with AC an NCO Club where I had a nice steak sandwich lunch and then it all changed.
aboard a commercial flight, reasonable food, cute stewardess and all that. Arriving at Tan Sơn Nhat which seemed pretty much the same as any large base in the states, all the buildings with AC an NCO Club where I had a nice steak sandwich lunch and then it all changed.
My set of hard copy orders had me reporting here at
Sơn Nhat but as quick as you can say jacaty flip those
orders were exchanged for a note written in pencil, with the two words scrawled
on it - Quin Nhon.
Clutching my
note, duffel over my shoulder, I’m directed out towards the flight line and
told to find a ride up country to Quin Nhon.
Man it was hot when I arrived at Quin Nhon ops, the
sergeant in charge had made a futile attempt
to beat the heat by positioned himself strategically in the vortex of three portable
fans blasting air drawn from outside via the rolled up flaps of the tent. While
his assistant scrambled around trying to carrel the flying debris. Even with all that he still looked hot and pissed
off as he grimly pressed on in the center of his self styled, rainless typhoon.
My hand written, penciled, note seemed
to bring a bit of joy to his face. He
wadded it up, looked over his shoulder at a chalkboard swaying in the fan
propelled air, “find your name and erase it, easy peasy.” He goes on to say - “Getting late, Charlie’s out
so get yourself some chow and a bunk. In the morning grab a ride with one of
the convoy trucks.
The next day I’m on my way again riding
shot gun in a deuce and half. In the late morning the driver pulled his truck
out of the convoy and we rolls to a stop beside the road, pointed off to the
side to a dirt road - saying “just down their”. After the rumble of the convoy there was an eerie
quiet left in their wake as they faded from sight. Seemed that I was all alone, and the land was
barren except for an old, dilapidated thatched hut to my left. I start walking up the road to the top of the hill,
its then I see the cardboard sign , nailed to a tree – announcing Phu Cat.
As I looked down the road on past the
cardboard sign all I could see is a bunch of construction going on, flanked by a
couple guard towers. However, as I
walked closer I could see Quonset huts and what looked like what might be temporary
living quarters. So I’m thinking that’s
the cause of my convoluted orders there wasn’t a Phu Cat Airbase yet.
Vietnam is changing ever so
rapidly now, like an old friend who discovers fame and fortune and his success carries him off
for a walk on the wild side. I struggle
to hold on but I fear the chasm between us may bring an end to our long
relationship. I’ve started looking for
a raggedy cardboard sign that points me down a new road, just in case.