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)
                                                

Then it was Vietnam - part 2

Village meeting - Binh Dinh Province - 1967

                     
The war was going strong, with the US committed to adding me along with many others to its expanding effort. Though, as it turned out this didn't do much to change the course of the war as in the not too distant future the US, started scaling back on it's commitment. Then, abruptly pulled the plug on its war effort, walking away from its  multi-zillion-dollar investment, along with a cadre of loyal Vietnamese. Ton Son Nhut Air Base was a good example of the bounty left behind and was recreated by the new North Vietnamese government as one of the two international airports serving Vietnam, the other being in Hanoi. Ton Son Nhut is located about 30 minutes from Saigon's city center, district 1.

Ultimately, as things turned out I ended up in Phu Cat in Binh Dinh Province. A heck of a long way from Saigon but close enough to be regaled with the stories of the goings on in the city from air crews ferrying supplies and personal. Hearing so many of these stories I started to get the feeling I had been there my self.  

From the stories it seemed the fascination for all that experienced Saigon was its ability to morph into whatever role was expected of it. For the war weary young GI's it was a place to have a bunch of Ba Ba Ba's (inexpensive, Vietnamese beer), meet beautiful and fun Vietnamese ladies and for a moment, loosen the vice grip of the life and death realities of war.  While on a more restrained note Saigon was the political capital of South Vietnam, housing the south's military and political leadership, along with the foreign embassies representing nations friendly to the South's cause. Of course it was also ground zero for US Military's Command Group governing operations in Southeast Asia. This was all played out in front of a backdrop of hardworking Saigonese shopkeepers, laborers, and the other ordinary Vietnamese that were the core of the city. All this was stirred into the bubbling mass of affluent Vietnamese business folk, fast buck hucksters, hookers and pimps. It must have been quite a place back then but how about now, 35 some years later.  Well, for me Saigon, Ho Chi Minh City, or whatever you want to call it, while more mellow under the communist regime is still a damn cool place.  

It wasn't until I made my return 15 years ago that I would be able to spend any time in Saigon.  On my year gig in the war, landing in-country at Ton Son Nhat was as close as I  was to get to Saigon. Stretching my be legs after my late morning arrival I stumbled across the base Airman's club where the bartender turned out to be an old friend from my home town.  Man it sure is a small  world. After a beer, ok two, and a bite to eat I was feeling a little more relaxed.  Wished my newly found, old friend well, slung my duffel over my shoulder, orders in hand and headed back out to the flight line in search of a ride to Quin Nhon, listed as my new duty station.

Right off, I found a friendly C130 crew chief who offered up a hop to Quin Nhon. That is, if I could give them a hand rolling off a jeep at an airstrip along the way.  

You know that old saying - "the devil is in the details" and in this case, the details were in our pilot's attempted landing on one of those temporary, metal-grating landing strips, while someone or someones on the ground were shooting up at us! 

All the while the pilot continued on his approach, the tail ramp door was opening as the crew chief struggled to get the jeeps wraps off. While I made a feeble attempt to help with one hand and  with the other holding a death grip on a exposed section of the bulkhead. As I'm thinking "screw this damn jeep," and struggling to keep my balance the pilot abruptly pulled up in preparation for a second approach. Meanwhile, the crew chief was back to taking care of the jeep as the pilot lined us up for a second pass.  He drags himself over to my bulkhead and hollers in my ear, "Get ready, this time the jeep is out of here and so are we" As we made our approch I strained to see out and get a look at our landing path, the metal corrugated strip was pock marked and hardly visible through the grass that had over gown it but the area appeared deserted (emphasis on appeared).  The rest was a blur as we fell over one another, kicking the damn jeep out.  Not sure if we were actually on the ground when it finally rolled off, but we had done our job.

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.   

To be continued:

(link to part 1)  

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