Enemy Supplies captured
During August and September, other than flying the LOH and ensuring the
perimeter was improved, and internal security was not faltering, it was pretty
quiet. All the units were flying missions, now to LAMSOM 719, which was
the invasion of Cambodia, and Laos, bordering countries to Viet Nam. Both were
used as supply trails and highways for the North Vietnamese Army to move
supplies.
We had already found large caches of supplies that had been hand carried south
down the trail, then brought eastward into South Viet Nam and stored either for
resupply of the normal troops operating in the area or a buildup that was being
planned.
In the end we discovered two such staches. One to the south later in the
summer was in a mountain that had been dug out. A vast cave and
underground tunnel net work was found, housing a "foundry" for
melting steel, and making truck engine blocks. Elaborate to say the least.
We flew missions for almost a month to move the equipment stored under
the mountain, and then burned and destroyed in place what we could not haul.
The North Vietnamese soldiers, as well as the local VC as they were called were
masters at digging tunnels. It was so bad in some areas (Chu Chi, 1st
Division Headquarters of the US Army) that some Army command headquarters was
sitting on top of tunnel complexes. This also meant the entire
surrounding complex of maybe 100,000 soldiers was on top of the tunnel network.
Army camps and cities in the jungle were equipped for headquarters
occupation, hospitals, and machine shops, storage facilities. The North
Vietnamese soldiers completed all the things we did inside a military compound
with 10 - 100,000 troops while in underground caves and bunkers.
The tunnels were so complex that flooding them, using tear gas and explosions
were useless. There would be tunnels connecting to tunnels, layers, and
fake tunnels to confuse and block entry.
In the end, when a tunnel would be found, a US Army soldier called a
"tunnel rat" would be used. Usually small in statue (5'0"
- 5'5"), he would be armed with a .45 pistol, a rope tied around his legs
or waist (to drag him out if blocked, or shot) for safety, who would crawl
inside the tunnel and try to see what was involved and if it could be
destroyed. He also looked for enemy soldiers and supplies!
Tunnels were not only a maze of shafts, but also protected with "Punji
stakes" (sharpened, fire hardened, bamboo dipped in human waste), snakes
(including cobras), booby traps of grenades, explosives, and any number of
other devices thought up at the local level. In Jungle warfare,
EVERYTHING can be made into a weapon (Flashlight batteries and Moss) (Bleach
and Ammonia).
A tunnel complete was usually very complex, and took years to complete. Some of
the tunnels, like the 25th division tunnels, were started when the Viet Mien
were fighting the French just after WWII, before we supplied troops.
Today, in the year 2000, the Vietnamese are conducting tours of the
tunnel complexes to American GIs who are returning to Viet Nam for visits.
In some cases, an "in your face, of see how close we got to you!"
The last major cache of weapons and supplies we found in I Corps area was
located just south of the DMZ and part of the marine area of operation.
It was a huge supply of guns, ammo, medical supplies, and almost anything
an Army would need to operate. It had been there for years apparently.
We used Chinooks and hauled for almost 14 days before we had the majority of
the equipment moved. The last flight out of the area was to remove the
local Vietnamese Army who had been acting as the area security force while we
moved the supplies.
Major Butler, A company commander, and Mr. Powers, a warrant officer from A
Company were the last pilots to make a lift out of the area. (Mr. Powers
had been an original member of C Company at Fort Sill. He had been
infused into A Company just after we arrived in Viet Nam on December 31, 1968).
The aircraft landed and picked up the Vietnamese force. As the aircraft
began to climb vertically (out of the grass and the small valley) it rose to 25
- 50 foot, then lost power in one of the two engines. The aircraft
settled back to earth, landed on a small slope and rolled over on its side.
In the ensuing crash and fire, 54 Vietnamese soldiers died. 24 +/- were
rescued. Mr. Powers was last seen by Major Butler standing up, unbuckling
his pistol belt and chest protector. Mr. Powers started to climb over the
radio console that set between the two pilots, and move through the
companionway toward the rear of the aircraft. He reportedly told Major
Butler that he was "all right". Mr. Powers was never seen
again.
The search for
Mr. Powers went on for 3 - 4 days afterward with no results. The body was never
found, and he was not among the prisoners returned in 1975. His mother
formed a group known as Viet Nam MIA (Missing in Action) and was president for
many years. Mr. Powers' status was changed to Killed in Action after the
end of the hostilities and the American forces returned home in 1973. His
name was added to the "Wall" shortly after.
From investigative reports, immediately after asking Mr. Powers if he was all
right, Major Butler climbed out the window on the left side of the aircraft.
Major Butler stood 6' 2" or better, and weighed about 230. He was
wearing a flight helmet, and a "chicken Plate" of porcelain (Chest
Protector). With all of this equipment he squeezed through the
window on the left door of a Chinook.
The window measured 12" tall by 6" wide! Reports were that the
window was not broken.
Philippines
In the middle or so of July, 1969, the 101st Division announced that they had
an empty class allotment for the "Air Force Survival School" at Clark
Air Force Base (now closed. Closed in early 1990s due to volcanic eruption of
nearby mountain) in the Philippines. At the time I was re-writing the
Operating Procedures for Escape and Evasion for the Battalion. Still, it
was a 3-day school in the Philippines and a break from Viet Nam. I took
the allotment. RHIP, Rank has its privileges. Sometimes!
I got orders that read, "Officer will report on ___ date, for the AF,
Jungle Survival School. Officer will
arrange own transportation back to Viet Nam." Translated this meant I had
a starting date for the school; I had to be there before the school started.
It was a three-day school, and it was up to me to arrange my own
transportation back to my unit. To arrange transportation I could walk
into the military travel section, get a free ticket, climb aboard a commercial
flight from the Philippines and return to Saigon where I could take military
air hops back to my unit. The trick was, it was "at my leisure"
No reporting back date was given; therefore, none was mandatory.
I packed and caught a flight to Saigon for a connecting flight to the
Philippines.
I arrived on Saturday Night. Class started on Monday. I was
assigned, with much apologizing to the "old, transient officer's
quarters". Entering, I found that I had a roommate, and that the two
of us shared a shower and bath facility with the two officers in the next room.
There were no officers in the next room. My roommate was gone also.
OK by me. The room was clean; sheets white and not mud stained from
the yellow mud of Vietnam. The shower had hot clean water. The toilet
flushed. The sink workes with both hot and cold water. This was
paradise!
I turned on the
shower and climbed into it. 45 minutes later I climbed out, thinking that
I must be clean by now. I turned the white towels yellow from the yellow
dust still in the pores of my skin. It took almost a week of showers to
clean my pores!
Dressed and clean, relatively clean that is, I called a cab. If the clerk
was "apologizing" for these, what did the "good" BOQs look
like? A short trip told me the story. The AF does not travel less
than first class. The Air Force BOQs are three high-rise apartment
buildings. First floor had gift shops, bars, restaurants, and lounges to
just relax. Life was tough in the Air Force. Later, I find the Air
Force moves in and has an allotted amount of money to build a base. They
build all except the runways. And then, because you can't land planes
without runways, congress gives more money to "finish" the runways.
Smart. The Army just lands in the dirt.
I went to the O club for supper. The club had two parts, the upper formal
dinning area, with an orchestra at 9 PM every night, and down stairs with the
snack bar for quick and informal dining. I must eat upstairs.
About the time I finished, in walk 6 stewardesses from one of the commercial
flights making turn-arounds between Viet Nam and San Fransciso. To
make matters worse, my sister-in-law is a stew for an airline, and based in New
Orleans. Visions of home!
When I finished eating and was ready to leave, I called the waiter over, bought
a bottle of wine, and had it delivered to the stews. The waiter was NOT
to tell them from whom it came. They, for some reason would not accept it
until they knew, so he told them. They accepted but said they couldn't
drink in public and wanted to take it back to their room.
I told them fine,
and why I had sent it, thinking of home and family, and just thanks for reminding
me. We parted, never to meet again.
They probably thought it was strange. But, it was fun to do!
I returned to my barracks ALONE, and met my roommate.
Roomie was an F4 (fighter airplane) driver from Da Nang and the Marines. We
went through all the discussion of differences in helicopters and fixed wing,
types of missions, low level, hovering, vs., carrier approaches, missions to
the Ashau valley vs. bombing runs on Hanoi. It was fun and interesting.
We finished the discussion with the idea that I would fly a LOH to Da Nang when
we returned, take him for a ride in a helicopter, and on his next mission to
Hanoi, I would ride back seat in an F4 on a bombing run. This all sounded
neat at the time.
By the time I returned to Viet Nam, I had reconsidered. I only had 3
months left in country. A bombing run to Hanoi would have been
interesting, but if shot down, would have meant unknown time in a POW camp.
Not good! And, according to him, if he as pilot was shot, there were no controls
in the aft seat for me to try and fly home. Really Not Good! I
never called him.
Sunday, we both decided to take the Air Force bus to Manila and do a tour of
the city. 2 hours in, off we went. Arriving in manila we left the
bus at the first stop. We contracted with a local taxi driver to take us
on a personal tour of Manila and have us back to the bus stop for the ride back
to Clark. By now, a third member joined us. He was an E-4 Airman,
assigned to Clark AFB. He had been in the Philippines for a week and was
just sightseeing, like us.
We started the tour. Good to his word, the taxi driver took us to out of
the way places tourist don't see. We did some good shopping, sightseeing and
then to a restaurant for a meal before returning to the bus. The entire
trip, the Airman spent telling us how bad it was to be assigned to the
Philippines for a tour of 2 or three years. We are seeing a city that is
beautiful. A country that is tropical and beautiful. Prices are
almost free for everything. There are no bullets flying, bombs, booby
traps, or people carrying guns. And HE is complaining.
After a couple of hours of this, both the marine F4 driver and I let him have
it. We told him that he could take either of our places. Our 4
months left in country for his 3 years, even swap. He refused, and did
stop complaining.
On the way back to the bus, the cabby told us he needed to change tires on the
right rear wheel of the cab. We agreed. He took us by his house.
Cabby driving, Airman E-4 in the front right seat, and the Marine and I in the
rear with me behind the driver. As we neared his house, he stopped and
backed up the street to the front of his house.
The moment he stopped the rearward motion of the cab, the right rear tire
exploded! I didn't think of the tire, that we were in the Philippines,
that we were safe in a family neighborhood, or that I hadn't been shot at for a
week. Nothing! It was then pure survival response. When the tire
exploded, I crawled, or should say shot, over the front seat. As the
driver was opening the door, I landed in the seat beside him.
I don't know who was scared more, me and the marine who was also trying to
fight his way out of the cab, the Airman in the front seat, startled, but who
had never experienced incoming artillery, or the cabby who thought we were
attacking him for some reason.
When it was all over, and the 4 of us were outside, safe and looking at the
tire the episode was funny. The Marine and I were laughing so hard we had
trouble explaining why we were trying to dive into the front seat of the cab.
The driver finally calmed down when he realized we were not attacking him, but
condition-responds to loud noises. Funny later, at the time, scared as
Hell!
We changed the tire, met the bus and laughed all the way back to Clark. The
Marine left the next day for Da Nang. I never saw him again. Hope
he made it home to the US!
I attended the course starting the next morning. We had 2 days of class,
which included survival techniques that were in direct opposition to the Army's
teaching, but it was classroom, so no problem. The last day was to be in
the field and a survival field problem. We were to run and hide, try to
evade the local Nigritoes hired by the school. The Nigritoes were tribesmen
from old "Headhunting" clans from the mountains. They fought
the Japanese in WWII, and anyone else who came to their mountains. Even
the locals would cross the street rather than pass them on the sidewalk. These
guys were good at their jobs.
The survival course was rained out. We spent one night in hammocks the
air force made for us. The Nigritoes foraged in the woods for food.
We had C rations for those meals also.
In my group were 17 officers and NCOs. It seems the Air force personnel
had to attend this course if they were being sent to the SE Asia area. No
exceptions. In addition to me, there were 2 warrant officers from the
101st division that were also scamming a little time for R and R. Their
orders read the same as mine.
The Air force thought military "C" rations were not "food".
Compared to their mess halls always being open and the fare they
were served, they were probably right. We three Army pilots thought
"C"s were great. We ate well that night while the Air Force
whined about the lack of edible food. Tough luck, were our feelings.
"C"s, again, like the Air force EM in the cab, were better than what
they were going into. We'd been there; this wasn't bad, at all!
We finished the course and returned to the BOQ. I met a couple of Air force
Officers from the class and we spent a couple of night drinking and then a
night in the local civilian town of Angle City, just off post.
After a night of drinking and raising hell, we started back to post. The
Philippines have the same type "Jitneys: that the Army does. We
hired on to take three of us back to the Air Force Base. As we boarded
and started, we realized he was going the opposite direction he should have
been going. One of the two Air Force
officers took off his belt, and slid up behind the driver. He looped the
belt and dropped it across the driver's chest, around his neck.
The driver almost turned the Jitney over, turning it around and taking us
straight back to base. Not a word was said!
The next day, broke (well I had 25 cents) I went to the airport and boarded a
plane back to Viet Nam. I arrived at Cam Rahn Bay at midnight. I
spent the night sleeping on the floor and benches in the airport until the next
morning and I could hop an air force cargo plane to Phu Bai and home.
The local MPs had little to do. GIs were not allowed to sleep on the
floor, or lay down on benches in the airport and sleep. For some unknown
reason, maybe just stupidity, which abounded, you had to stay awake, all night!
I finished the course, returned to duty to find a new commander for the
battalion, and my LOHs in maintenance waiting on engines. One from one of
my flights, the other from a hot start.
Volley ball games - 1/LT- Commo Officer
One of the favorite "exercises" and activities for sport in the area
was Volley Ball. We set a net and the Headquarters element was into
sports. We played a little game called "Combat Volley Ball".
Only rules, stay inbound, and don't touch the net! Don't
touch the net, if you hit the ball. Other members could touch the net, say, to
pull it down for a ball to pass over it!
Our Battalion Commander, LTC Odneal was about 5'6" tall, medium built. He
was also a good sport.
Our new Communications Officer was 6' 8" and 250 lbs. Newly
commissioned, now a 1 LT assigned to us. He was not overly bright!
As our game continued, LTC Odneal, and our new commo officer were face to face
in the front row, facing each other across, or I should say, through the net.
Jumping and spiking the ball were legal.
On one shot, we 'set' up the ball, two hits and it finished over the net for
the third hit from the commo officer. All were yelling for him to
"spike it"! He did!
The result of the spike was the ball hit LTC Odneal directly in the chest with
enough force to knock LTC Odneal flat of his back in the sand. Of course,
this stopped the game in its track as we waited for LTC Odneal to ever so
slowly stand up and then stagger to the sideline. As we rushed to his
side, he took off the undershirt he has been wearing.
As he turned to us, we saw the red imprint of the word "SPALDING"
slowly appeared across his chest where the ball has struck him. The commo
officer hit the ball hard enough to knock Odneal down, and leave the imprint of
the ball on his chest.
We never played volleyball again. Our commo officer stayed for his tour,
but very quietly! We also found the commo officer was married to a Major
in the Nurse Corps with him in Viet Nam, her in the states. He rotated
back to San Francisco area, she was transferred to Europe. At the time
the Army didn't want to assign husband and wife together to discourage both
members of the marriage being in the military. It was a strange policy!
Visiting Brother In Law
In the late summer of 1969, we turned in one of the OH-6 aircraft we had
assigned to the unit. In turn, we picked up one from a unit in Chu Chi
- I was selected to take the Maintenance Sergeant and go get the bird.
50 miles West of Chu Chi was An Khe. Janet's sister, Peggy, had a husband
assigned to a "Duster" battery at An Khe. This was perfect.
Pick up the Aircraft, hop over, visit, and then return to Phu Bai.
A "Duster" was a WWII tank body with twin 40mm guns mounted in the
turret. A 40mm shell is about 5 lbs of explosive. In addition he also had
WWII "Quad .50 cal. Machine guns" mounted on flat bed trucks. A
quad .50 is 4 single .50 cal. machine gun from WWII mounted on a single frame
so that all 4 fire at once. At 450 rounds per minute per gun, it’s an
impressive weapon system. The platform spins 360 degrees and rotates 180
degrees up and down. The system was originally designed to shoot
airplanes down. The system will spin fast enough to throw the gunner off
the seat; he therefore must wear a safety belt. A Gunner loads the
weapons. Ken, Janet's brother in law, had 4 Quad .50 cals. and 6 dusters
in his command.
I picked up the LOH and flew over to An Khe. The only place to park was
the motor pool. There were two rows of wire around the camp; however,
between the wire was mines, therefore not a good place to set an aircraft down.
So the motor pool was selected. Carefully I hovered inside the
motor pool area and gently parked the LOH inside the wire amid the trucks. Ken
and I visited that day. I was with Ken inside his orderly room about
suppertime and into the room burst a young Corporal of about 20 years old.
He was screaming and ranting like a mad man about some *&%&*#*
pilot who parked an aircraft in the motor pool. When we got him calmed
down, it seems he came tearing into the motor pool with a 2 1/2 ton truck,
rounded the first row of trucks and almost ran over my helicopter. Knowing for sure the Army would make him pay
for it, he was scared and a bit angry. It was real funny to watch him
react, first to the helicopter being parked where a truck should be, then to
the realization he is in the orderly room chewing out the battery commander and
a visiting captain for blocking "his" driveway. Neither Ken or
I got upset at the Corporal's attitude or "chewing us out". It
was so funny in the end all we could do was laugh. The next morning I
flew Ken north to a firebase to secure some equipment he needed for an upcoming
party. Ken was impressed with the ability to jump in a helicopter, fly
cross-country, land, and return. Roads that were deadly for him and his men
were far below and viewed from a safe distance.
In the Officer's club that first afternoon, Ken introduced me to the only other
person in the club. Ken's boss, the battalion commander was leaving as we
entered. I was to meet him again 20 years later in a small shoe repair
shop in Melbourne, Florida.
The third day, I left for home. Back out to the coastline, and then out
to sea about 5 miles for the flight up the coast to Phu Bai. 5 miles off
the coastline at 9,000 ft. is cool, and very safe. It was close enough to
autorotate to the shore if we had problems, out of gunshot range for anyone on
the ground, and because of the height, it was cool and comfortable in
110-degree heat (ground temperature).
When our plane landed at Chu Lai where we were to get the LOH, I recognize a
soldier walking out to the plane. He is now a Captain, and his name is
Pete Guthrie. Pete was a candidate when I was a tactical officer at 51st
company at Benning. Pete said he was "going home". When I
ask, he said he had been in country for 6 months and " had enough of the
stupidity". Pressed, he said he had been with a Ranger team to be
"inserted " 1/2 mile inside the border near Cambodia. The maps
were old and out of date and they had been "inserted" two miles
inside Cambodia, instead of Viet Nam. And, inserted into the camp of an
NVA division commander. They had to run and fight for 2 days to get away.
Pete was going home!
Pete probably went home.
While in OCS, Pete was assigned to a foxhole in a night defense during a
training problem. The aggressors for the night were a team of Rangers
from Fort Benning. They were to "assault" the perimeter, then
withdraw. They did. In the turmoil, one of the rangers threw a
"simulator" and it landed in the foxhole, Pete and two others were
in. The cleared the hole but had their equipment destroyed in the
process. Pete got mad!
He left the perimeter later that night. The "water truck" came
through to replenish the water in canteens and for cooking. When the
truck went by Pete, he jumped on the rear and rode it to the
"aggressors" camp.
Sneaking inside, he found a jeep sitting with the lights on and apparently the
motor running. A sergeant was sorting laundry in front of the jeep, and
the unit commander was reading a paper from the lights.
Pete jumped in the jeep, backed it out of the compound and drove it back to the
area we were camped in. Just before arriving at our site, he drove it in
the woods and left it.
Without my knowledge, the OCS commander, Danny Byrd, wanted to eliminate Pete
from the program. The Ranger Commander came to Pete's defense. He
said, if effect, Pete should graduate and become a Ranger. Anyone, who could
and would come into the enemy's camp, steal the Commanders' jeep and get out,
was good enough to be commissioned. Pete was.
I do doubt that he remained in the Army though!
S-1 getting circumcised before coming home
Captain X was our S-1. He occupied the desk next to me in the battalion
headquarters. Captain X had replaced the previous S-1 that held the
record in the battalion for getting drunk the most nights in a row, without a
break, and making it to work the next morning. Something to the effect of
31 - 32 times. Then he quit drinking for months.
Capt X had been a commercial pilot in the states. He said he asked the
firm to upgrade the airplane they were using, and they refused, so he quit and
joined the Army. He said they upgraded immediately after he left?
Strange, but, who knows.
Other than the gas in the oil tank, X was a terrific guy. On the spot
when needed, helpful, generally very well liked by all. He was to rotate
home about a month before I was. His time was early December.
Being such an upstanding guy, X wanted to surprise his wife on returning home.
He made contact with the local hospital and scheduled some
"elective" surgery. Knowing his year would be up on a given
date, he scheduled himself for a circumcision a month prior to rotation home.
The doctor assured him it would be ample time to heal and be ok.
Captain X had the surgery on time. He walked really funny, but managed to
attend to almost all of his duties and functions as a staff officer.
Captain X got an early release. He got orders sending him home two weeks early!
Captain X took one heck of a weeks' harassment after he got the orders
and before he left for home. It was all in good fun, and each of us
wished him luck when he arrived home, hoping his wife would understand!
Monsoons
Everyone knows and hears about the Monsoons of the Far East. They are the
West's hurricanes, except worse! By the end of September we are beginning
to feel the effects of the season and the rains. Not monsoons yet, just
rain. The rains, normal for this time of year were the primary reason for
pulling the firebases out of the Ashau Valley.
The first of October 1969, we felt our first Monsoon. It struck just like
a normal rain shower. It began to rain, then got heavier, and heavier.
It rained, and it rained, and it rained some more. For 10 straight
days it rained day and night. In 10 days it rained 80 inches on land that
was flat and no drainage.
Next to our airfield and base camp we had 8 foot long steel culverts under the
roads for drainage. By the 8th day, the two steel culverts had
"floated" 30 yards down stream from the force of the water.
We didn't fly, drive, or walk. Hard latterite clay used for roads (hard,
red clay, dusty in heat, mud in rain) was now knee-deep Red mud. Captain
Jones, the former Headquarters and Headquarters Company Commander was cussed on
a daily basis. The roads that had been sand were covered with Latterite
before he left country in the previous spring. The stuff turned to dust
in the heat and mud in the rain. On each side was the natural sand and it
drained as it rained.
I have never seen so much water in my life. Everything was flooded. Within 2 - 3 days after the rains stopped,
the area was dry and clear of water. Although flat, the soil drained the water
quickly. West of us, in the mountains, the total rainfall for the year
was almost 300 inches. Being from Florida, I was impressed! Not
since then have I complained about too much rainfall in the US. We don't
know how lucky we have it.
Turning in the LOHs
After returning from R & R, the Monsoons ended the middle of October, we
got word that the units flying "Pink" teams with LOHs and Cobra
gunships were getting shot up so bad they were short of Loaches (OH-6s).
A "Pink" team would be a LOH and two Cobras. The LOH would
hover around the trees until he was shot at, then the Cobras would roll in and
shoot the bad guy. Problem was the LOHs were lost at a high rate, as well
as the pilots. Amazingly the pilots stood in line to fly them and the mission.
We did have some crazies in the units.
Anyway, we were instructed to turn in both OH-6s to 5th Trans., so they could
prepare them for issue to the Cav. Units in our area as replacements.
About this time we also got word that Bell Helicopter, which made the Huey, had
also gotten the bid for a replacement LOH for the OH-6. The Army would
buy the Bell Jet Ranger, OH-58A to replace the OH-6. We turned our OH-6s
in and suddenly were left with no aircraft for battalion staff.
As soon as the word came down, I started to build time. Then, a pilot was
paid flight pay for three months ahead and could make up 5 months behind by
flying the required number of hours, i.e., for three months ahead, you had to
fly 15 hours this month in extra time. To catch up, by the fifth month, you
had to fly 25 hours in the 5th month to get a check for the previous months.
This was for travel and periods when you did not have access to an
aircraft to fly the required time, i.e., between duty stations, leave,
hospital, etc.
I built my time for flight pay until I would be at my next duty assignment and
could start flying again. I then flew the aircraft over to 5th
Transportation Group and signed the papers to turn them in. I returned to
battalion and turned my flight gear in. For the last 30 days in country I
only flew a desk.
Replacement / bronze ware
The last month I was in country, my replacement was chosen. A tall thin 2
LT from the CH-54 unit in Da Nang arrived and moved in with me. I put up
a cot for him in my room. It was by now the middle of November, cold,
wet, and nasty. So cold and nasty for the area, that the trip to the
showers each night became a Must Do, and only when necessary! Miserable
weather, and surprisingly, the actual temperature probably never got below 45
degrees.
When the LT arrived, he had with him a mahogany wooden box filled with a 12
place setting of Bronze ware from Thailand. I had not been able to get to
Thailand and get the bronze ware for Janet. He, my replacement, offered
to sell me his, and he could replace it before going home 6 - 7 months later.
Such a deal. I parted with 50.00 for the set, and hand carried it home.
(My hold baggage had already been shipped).
I took the bronze ware, hand carried it for three days of travel through Cam
Rahn Bay, Seattle Airport, Omaha Airport, finally to Tampa. It was a
beautiful set.
4 years later, I was showing a house in Lawton. We were leaving the Army
and selling our house. One of the couples to arrive at the house is this
LT., now accompanied by a very upset wife. While I show him the house,
and listen to him explain, Janet took his wife in to see "her" bronze
ware.
He had not replaced the set before returning home. His wife was not a
"happy camper". They did not buy the house either. Not
sure who made that decision, quite possibly her!
Christmas day - going home / Bob Hope
We, the surviving members of C/159, were receiving orders to return to the
States. We had arrived on 31 Dec 1968, and instead of having to wait
until 31 Dec. 1969, we were dropped a week. We received orders to Depart
Viet Nam on 25 December 1969.
All the remaining, original unit members gathered at the Officer Club at the
Battalion Headquarters for Christmas Eve. Somehow we had gotten a USO
show to stay the night. They performed at the club about 10 - 11 PM,
after putting on a show somewhere else. It was a party of parties.
Christmas morning, hung over, tired, sleepy, and anxiously standing in line, we
were all at the airport for boarding the C-130 to Cam Ranh Bay for DEROS to
stateside.
We arrived in Cam Rahn Bay, processed, drew our travel moneys, and pay we had
coming for the month of December. Card games, dice games were going
everywhere.
Our group, processed as needed, changed into khakis as required for travel,
found the O club, settled in for an afternoon of doing nothing but waiting and
killing time.
At 8 - 9 PM we were taken to the airport and process through security and
customs. We boarded the plane about 10PM and sat! It finally taxied
out to the runway, and waited some more. We actually left Viet Nam about
11 PM that night.
Because we were flying eastward, we crossed the International Date Line and
gained a day! We landed in Japan for fuel, then on to Seattle / Tacoma
Airport, arriving 3 AM on Christmas Day 1969. We had actually had a 48
hour Christmas, with the presents being alive, and returning to the USA and
families. It was some Christmas.
I had arrived back to Tampa. I was Home, Safe, and it was still Christmas
Day. Merry Christmas.