There was a change in the pitch of the engines on the plane that woke me up. I wasn’t concerned because if one is heading into a war zone, it is not hard to stay awake. Everything is new and you don’t want to miss anything. I lifted the window shade and almost had to pull it back down, it was so bright outside. Like others on the plane, I sat up straight to see what was out there as the plane banked to the left. All I could see was there was a very big city surrounded by water. I could only guess that it was Saigon. Not because I had ever seen it, but the rest of what I could see was jungle or dirt.
It was pretty cool to see the airport as we had been in the plane for over 16 hours with only a short stop in Japan to refuel. We were looking forward to getting off the sardine can. On this plane there were six stewardess and a little over 162 service men heading to their new home for the next year. Not just Saigon, but the country of Vietnam. We were all tired of being stuffed into the seats on this plane eating warmed up TV dinners. We knew that this was no vacation trip, but some of us were a little concerned about the contractor airline getting paid by how many troops they took to the war zone.
In other words, it appeared as though we were stuffed into the plane, so we would truly want to get off the aircraft. It worked by the way, we were all ready to disembark. I looked around the cabin and could see eyes being opened as it was obvious that we were almost there. Some of the passengers were soldiers like me. I had volunteered to go and defeat the Viet Cong. However, the draft was sending men to fight even if they didn’t want to go, I just wanted to serve my country. I had finished Officer Candidate School with high enough grades so that I could choose my next duty station. However, there were a lot of men on the plane that did not volunteer.
Upon graduation, I was a 2nd Lieutenant. I had to interview with a senior officer who was a Major to be able to attend Special Warfare School because they were very choosy about the training. President Kennedy was the Father of Special Forces, and no one wanted to embarrass him. Fortunately, I passed the interview and spent 12 weeks learning how to be a warrior all over again. As a leader, we were trained to see unconventional methods to complete our assignments and to know all we could about our enemy and their weapons. You could not wear the Green Beret until you had passed all the tests they put you through. And yes, you do without a lot of sleep and loss of weight from the physical training. It is not for the faint at heart.
So now I was to pay back the Army for all the time and money they had spent on me by going to war. The landing gear was lowered and we all felt relieved. The view was sobering. There were huge holes in the dirt surrounding the airport. The pilot said they were where mortars were shot into the airport the evening before we landed. He also asked us to be quick in getting our bags down and deplaning as they had to take off as soon as we were off the plane to return to the U.S.
Every member of the flight team stood by the door and wished us well. That kind of brought the war into our lives. I wasn’t the first one off, but close, and I got hit with a blast of hot air that practically pushed me back on the plane. The heat was almost unbearable. I grew up in the San Joaquin valley where you could fry an egg on the sidewalk, but the air that hit us as we deplaned was physical.
A Sergeant from, it seemed, every unit that was based in Vietnam greeted us. As we walked over to a huge tent where they read the names, each soldier was given an assignment. So we were standing there sweating our butts off when they called my name. “Worthy! To 173rd Airborne.” I was taken aback. “Hey Sergeant!” I called out. “Fifth Special Forces. Here are my assignment papers.” He said, “Sorry sir, that is not going to happen.”
I said, “Hey! I bought a green beret and everything.” He laughed at my joke and asked me to wait until everyone was in the tent. “Sorry about the beret sir, but you are needed in another unit. Last night the 173rd was in contact with a superior force and an air support jet accidentally dropped a 250-pound bomb on the Command Post, just about every officer was killed or wounded. They need some help. Please go over there until everyone is picked up by their new unit.” Even if I outranked him, there are just some things you don’t argue with, this was one.
I looked kind of strange being the only soldier wearing a beret, so I took it off and stuffed it in my pocket. The rest of the day was spent getting picked up by a soldier from the 173rd and driven to a tent city. I was pointed to a truck, along with every other junior officer that was on the planes. I tossed my bag with everything I owned into the back of the truck and climbed in. Looking back I remember that all the other soldiers on the truck were pretty much just like me. That is, they were looking out the back of the truck with what we called “the thousand-yard stare.”
They were all so young and fresh looking and a little confused. Being the only officer in the truck, I had to act as though I knew what I was doing. I truly didn’t, but I’m not sure any of these guys did. I couldn’t tell which soldiers were volunteers and which were draftees. That day we were all the same.
Next week, I will finish up, as we get closer to Veterans Day.
God Bless.
