If we ever meet it will be an honor to shake your hand, Sir.
As if rescuing downed pilots (and other air rescue crews) wasn't hairy enough, you had Mr. Nguyen Schwartz firing 122mm rockets at your choppers on the ramp at Da Nang.
It's doubtful that you slept underground so, I can only wonder if you ever got a good night's sleep.
It's doubtful that you slept underground so, I can only wonder if you ever got a good night's sleep.
Thanks, HD. Actually, I slept pretty good. I almost did sleep underground. I'll elaborate in a minute.
Ya get used to the sound of outgoing artillery rounds to the point of ignoring them - it's the incoming rounds that can wake one up. I recall asking other guys each time I'd hear an artillery round being fired - Outgoing ? Incoming ? It doesn't take long to figure it out.
The Vietnamese weren't very accurate with rockets but they were pretty good with mortars. Those could disturb ones pleasant dreams. (I slept better then than I do now !)
At first, maybe 3 months, we were quartered in the standard hootch made of plywood and screen but a little later we were moved to a vacant marine compound called Camp Swampy. I shared a quasi-bunker with two other guys (complete with a peace flag flying over it) made from portable runway covered and surrounded with sand bags . It was rat infested but it was probably the safest place to bunk at Da Nang. We took turns emptying the rat traps each night. The rats were the size of Chihuahuas.
Truthfully, many of my memories of Viet Nam are lost in the fog of time. I wasn't ever wounded, never really adapted to the military lifestyle, and never even had a bad dream after returning home. It seems to me sometimes as if it never even happened though it surely did. I consider this amnesia a blessing because I had friends that couldn't get it out of their heads.
Ya know, it was so long ago now that I have a hard time even comprehending the reality of it. I was a kid 20 years old, barely 21 when I came home. Hard to believe it was 41 years ago. I hated war then and I hate it 100 times more now. I suppose that's why I loathe the pencil necked cocksuckers that think its OK to send a 20 year old kid off to some hell-hole 10,000 miles away to die for some corporation(s) benefit.
The same low-life callous political tools that would send 18 yr. old kids off to die then spend the rest of their time stealing the very freedoms they say we're defending. The hypocrisy level in government has achieved historic highs and is off the charts. I couldn't think of a more appropriate karma than for the political scumbags to dodge bullets for awhile - and I think they're considering that a distinct possibility too.
Vietnam seemed like an adventure to me at that time. There were a lot of new and different things going on and much of it was fun. Most memorable was that all of the chicks wanted to give me a "going away present" !!!
In the end it was a very surreal period in my life, as well as the country's.
My favorite music before leaving for Viet Nam was the Doors, Free (Alright Now) Zeppelin, Blind Faith, Steppenwolf, and etc., while in Viet Nam it was Cat Stevens. Most of the guys bought huge stereo systems (and Nikon cameras) the music would blast out into the marijuana scented air all night long. The potheads would keep a lookout while the junkies nodded and puked and the lifers got shit-faced drunk.
I think I recognized adulthood while there even though it took me about 20 more years to grow up.
I went to see a movie not long after coming home, I think it was "Full Metal Jacket" that caused me to break down and cry. Otherwise, no sweat !