Then it was Vietnam - part 4

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 firefights outside the perimeter, across the road from my hut.  

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. 
                                              

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To be continued - Return to Vietnam

(link to part 3)

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)  

Thanks for stopping by..

Doug has a stomach problem

Haven't posted much lately as I've been distracted with an ongoing stomach malady,which acts up when I'm sitting or laying down and is especially bad starting about 10:30 PM.  Of course I don't do much writing lying down so logic would dictate I could work around it but because I'm sleeping very little at night, evening  is prime time for writing.  Then I have to deal with the sitting and the feelings of anxiety and that is "the rest of the story".   

No, not acid reflux, but a pressure and ensuing  pain that radiates through my abdomen, then up and up, sometimes even bringing tears to my eyes.  Visited doctors in Sai Gon, Bangkok and here in the states with little success in finding relief.  Some try and treat me for acid reflux, others look reflective and come up with homeopathy cures like "peppermint oil".  Meanwhile, I revert to my work around of Gaviscon, ruhm and coke (not all together) and walking around until a burp or fart loosen up my system.

Now I'm going to share something with you, 45 years ago at Phu Cat, Vietnam - every night (okay, not every night but it seems that way now) charlie would start a fire fight with our gun tower by the main gate next to my hut.  The rat tat tat of our 50 cal with the back up of small arms, along with the wooch of mortars were my night time lalaby's.  No serious damage seemed to come of these exchanges so it just became a part of my night life, so I thought I had it handled but maybe not.  

You read and hear all this bad press about the VA but my doctor and her nurse are interested not only in my adventures but in helping me figure out this problem.  Next Tuesday (6/24/2014) they have me scheduled for a CAT scan of my stomach. Of course when you're pushing 70 as I am your nervous about tests like this, you want to fix the problem but all the options that can effect this is worrisome.  

Meanwhile I've got part 2 of photos of Saigon and I'm working on something on Thai politics and an update to the effect of martial law in the kingdom.

Street side sandal repair -