For me, it is hard to believe that 51 years ago, I was in Vietnam.
But on this particular day, I was actually late in returning to good old Camp Eagle.
A rather humorous story is about to follow. A chain of events that saved my life, too.
The day was filled with awe and wonder.
I was down in Osaka, Japan where Expo 70 was being held. A Worlds Expo that I didn't want to miss. And it didn't disappoint. All sorts of really cool outdoor designs and lots of awe inspiring architectural designs provided a kid with the desire to become an architect with enough visually stimulating material to last a lifetime.
While most of the guys went on R&R to enjoy the gracious and soft charms of feminine ways, I was more interested in the hard lines, sleek designs and business facades which bedecked the landscape. A world within a world which seemed completely unaware of my world I would be returning to - or at least trying to return to on these very day.
But not without finding out that the 5th Dimension would be at the Worlds Fair in September and I would have a place to stay thanks to the warm and friendly workers I met at the Canadian Exhibit. The one thing that I actually do remember about the first trip to this this place - hopefully make you laugh - is the loud high pitched Japanese voice offering free samples of Kentucky Fried Chicken.
"KEN TUKY FRIEEED CHICK EN". With a heavy Japanese accent it was, indeed, funny. I have to admit that it made a lot of the Japanese folk laugh and brought a smile to my face.
But I had to leave and I needed to be back up in Tokyo and over to Camp Zama before 5am on May 1st. It was almost 7 pm on April 30 by the time I caught the bullet train back up to Tokyo. I had no idea that the trains stop running between 12 and 1 in the morning.
I also had no idea I had purchased a one way ticket. So, about half way up the conductor of the train came along and I handed him my ticket.
"This ticket is no good." he said in perfect formal English. It took me around 5 minutes to convince the conductor that I thought it was a round trip ticket and that I was totally broke and a GI who came here from Vietnam.
He, shook his head but apparently feeling sorry for me, he walked away, saying nothing else to me until we reached Tokyo and at the last stop.
"You must get out here. We go no further."
Okay, so where is here? I got off the train and as the train rolled away into the distance of the cold of morning charcoal. It was an unwelcome world Japanese, signs and posters. Certainly nothing I could use to figure out where I was and how I was planning on getting to Camp Zama before 5.
Then I saw it. A simple English sign. LOST? Pickup the phone.
Apparently a lot of GIs are left off here? But could I trust it?
What do I have to loose?
Turns out the number was the Navy Military Police and they told me to hold tight. Within a half hour, they picked me up and took me to their MP station. They had already called the Army Military Police, and in less an hour and 15 minutes, they came in were told the story and the 27 year old E-6 said, "relax, we will get you there before 5am."
It was 3:30. Even if they knew where they were going, based on how far Camp Zama was from the Navy MP, they would, indeed be cutting it close.
Well, they got lost.
Around 6 AM we finally got to Camp Zama. The two Military Police came in with me and told the E4 at the front desk that it wasn't my fault that I wasn't back on time because they got lost. That brought a slight smile and look that could be read as "now I have heard them all!"
He then told me that a flight headed for Saigon will be leaving tomorrow. I would have to catch a hop from Saigon to Da Nang. He pointed to my duffel bag, told me where to shower and sleep and report back to him at 5am tomorrow. I shook the hands of the MPs, took a shower and woke up 3pm.
That gave me a chance to do 9 holes on the gold course and watch a USO show at the NCO Club. After that and after returning to the barracks, I notice some new additions to the barracks and convinced one to wake me up before 4:30 am.
I think wheels were up by 7 am and we arrived around 1pm. I heard there was a flight to Da Nang leaving shortly and by 3:30 pm, I was in Da Nang.
I heard another C-130 was about to leave. A plum crazy thing happened. Call it fate, call it a 6th sense or even better, call it going AWOL, I decided to stay in Da Nang that evening.
Not kidding. I stayed up all night watching an F-4 taking off at night with its after burners looking like very large size butane lighters, grabbed some coffee at the 24 hour Air Force Mess Hall and talked for hours fighting the need for sleep.
I had no idea that the unit I was part of - B Battery, 4/77th AKA the El Toros - was being devastated by enemy fire and had I done my usual thing, I would have probably been the only one that would have gotten killed that night. I would have been either back in the hanger or up on the flight line.
3 comments:
I was the general's standard bearer at the stand down ceremony in 1971. Does anyone have any photos?
I just read your article. I read it twice to note the dates you were referring to. I arrived in Viet Nam in July 1970. I was assigned to the Toros on Camp Eagle after completing in country training. When I arrived everyone always referred to the large hangar the Toros used to have that was destroyed that same year. We continued to fly from there and I always wondered what it would have looked like before the rocket barrage that flattened it. I understand that most of the hangar’s damage was from rockets fired by the Cobras themselves once they were hit.
PS I liked your story.
I just read your article. I read it twice to note the dates you were referring to. I arrived in Viet Nam in July 1970. I was assigned to the Toros on Camp Eagle after completing in country training. When I arrived everyone always referred to the large hangar the Toros used to have that was destroyed that same year. We continued to fly from there and I always wondered what it would have looked like before the rocket barrage that flattened it. I understand that most of the hangar’s damage was from rockets fired by the Cobras themselves once they were hit.
PS I liked your story.
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