Return to Vietnam

The Walking Dead, 1975

This is the 9th Marines
The Walking Dead
Taken Camp Swab, Okinawa 1975
Days of Glory. We saved many lifes during EVAC, Saigon, Vietnam.
Semper Fi,
Cpl Birdsong
1973-1975

Dong Ha 1968

Sgt. Grit,
Attached are some pictures i came across recently. The first 2 were taken in June 1968 while i was assigned to the FLSB in Dong Ha. The third picture is of my Basic Electronics class during 1966 I was a 2841 Ground Radio Repair.
Cpl. Ken Kurkowski

Don't Need No Stinking Armor

SARGE: WE NO NEED NO STINKIN ARMOR. WE DROVE NIGHT AND DAY AND WHEN WE WERE AFOOT LOOKIN FOR THOSE STUPID ENOUGH TO BE LOOKIN FER US, WE STILL HAD NO ARMOR.
SF
Geo

Milt on Watch

(Former) Sgt E5 Milton Hoch AKA "Spider" 1966-70

DaNang R&R

Hi Larry
Thanks for getting back to me. I have a funny story to tell you about an experience in Da Nang. While you were at the in-country R&R center at China Beach I was also in Da Nang visiting the Navy Hospital. After my hospital visit, which was only to control a severe acne condition, I sought out the China Beach R&R center to visit you. We did meet and hung out together for a few hours. The weather was dismal as it was the rainy season with cold and misty crud. I have photos taken on the beach looking north towards Monkey Mountain. They are at home and will send them to you later.

It was the eve of Tet 1970. It had been decreed all Americans were to be off the street before sundown. I left you at the R&R center and passed through the gate to head back to the bus stop on the main street. I knew there was one more bus to take me back to the airbase. As I turned the corner away from the R&R center and looked down the road to the main street, I saw the last bus leave the stop. It was early, probably for the first time. I couldn't believe my eyes. I went back to the center to find the gate locked and unmannned. I called out to the gate guard who was there no more than a few seconds ago. He had evaporated into the mist.

I had no choice but to walk back to the main street and start hitch hiking. I was unarmed and had one of those Marine Corps Green water proof sleeping-bag bags filled with PX stuff. A feeling of being small and exposed to risk overwhelmed me. I was soon picked up by a South Vietnamese Navy NCO in a 3/4 ton truck. He didn't speak any English and seemed crazy, perhaps he was on drugs. He kept talking to me in slurred Vietnamese and gave me a bad feeling. He kept asking me questions. I think he was trying to sell me drugs but he may have been asking for the time just as well. I didn't know and was only very suspicious. I asked him if he was heading towards the airbase. He made unintelligible responses. I knew the way to the airbase was one straight road past the Navy Hospital to 'Three Corners' and then over the river bridge. It was basically two straight shots but I wasn't sure of the route or where to turn for the bridge. The son of a bitch started making rights and lefts in a residential neighborhood. I told him to stop and when he did I jumped out. I was lost, anxious and really angry with myself for being adventurous and careless.

Night was falling fast. I was standing on this street hitch-hiking but no-one was stopping. There was no American traffic at all. Only ARVN trucks, bicycles and motor scooters. The absence of American faces unnerved me. I scrutinized every marking on every vehicle for a US identity. Viet civilians in fancy clothes, Ao Dai and suites, strolled down the streets on their way for Tet observances. I was getting freaked. I started standing in the path of vehicles yelling and waving. They drove around me and the strollers stared at me as if I were mad. At this point I was.

I started walking, scared shitless. I knew I would be found in the morning with my throat slit. As I walked on, I saw two tall guys up the road emerge from the darkness. They were in civvies standing silently. They watched me approach with wide, calm Asian faces. I walked up to them and could tell they were Koreans. They asked me if I knew the way to the airbase. Of course I did.

It was dark now and there was no more street traffic. We stood in silence but I felt a lot better because of the two Koreans. I love Koreans now. Down the street coming toward us were two weak yellow headlights weaving right and left. It quickly approached. A US Army jeep with two drunk pilots stops to ask us directions. They are lost and need to get back to the airbase and want to know if we can help. We climb in and point towards the glow of high intensity lights off in the distance over the tree tops. I don't remember much after that except the giddy feeling that comes from the lifting of deep fear. I knew I would survive the night.

The next thing I remember is getting off with the Koreans at the 15th Aerial Port Squadron entry at the airbase. No problem, I was safe and secure in our American enclave and it was only a short walk to Mag 11. I enterred one of the MAG 11 hangars, put on a normal demeanor and joined some ordnance brothers for some light conversation. It was then that we heard the first percussive crack of a rocket attack.

Dick B

The two guys looking like Marines at war are Chuck Raacke and Bob Greenlee heading off to Ready Reaction Platoon. Yes, they are giving me the Hawaiian peace sign.

Ugly Angels in Vietnam

I served three tours in Nam, first tour 67 to 68. I have attached a picture of some ugly angels. These came in to drop off some Marines from the Float. They took out dead and wounded. This is on the beach about two klicks north of the mouth of the Cua Viet river where it meets the Tonking Gulf. The water you see behind it is the Gulf of Tonkin. I was with the 3rd Mar div. 1st Amphibious Tractor Bn. B Co. 2nd Plt. My track is B-24. I am taking these pictures from it. We were operating out of Camp Kistler. We are called Amgrunts. We did it all. Grunt, Trac, Artillery. The DMZ is about 4 more Klicks North of this picture. After they left we returned there. A Company of , I believe 3/1 had been hit and we were in support.
Art Johnson
USMC

Vietnamese Opera

I am sure I mentioned to you Thu An had been an opera singer. The type of opera is Cai Luong and is performed by troupes who travel the countryside. They give live performances at hamlets and villages. Cai Luong has fallen out of favor as a live performance for the citified masses who now prefer pop, rock and roll and everything else modern and western. Out in the boonies, Cai Luong can still draw everyone except the young guys who would rather shoot some billiards and drink beer.

I went to a Cai Luong opera during my trip. We traveled by motorbike south out of town and then west out on a secondary road. That road turned into a mere concrete ribbon and there, where it became a dirt road and across from the village community building, there was the Cai Luong stage. Imagine standard construction scaffolding erected on its side. Over that place loose planks and then erect a bamboo trellis. Hang three layers of curtains to set off the stage from the back stage and there you have it. Over the stage are hanging two microphones in fixed positions. Behind the curtain, the actors are putting on their costumes and makeup by the light of a single light bulb. Everything they have comes out of carry-on type bags which they carried on their motorbikes. Out in front, people from the local hamlets are arriving to the sound of drumming made on two oversized congo drums. With the smell of wood cook fires wafting through the area, the whole situation has the look and feel of skit night at a summer camp.

People were excited to be seeing Cai Luong. I was excited to be seeing Cai Luong. Once the people realized a white guy was in their presence they became just as excited to be seeing me. This village was deep in the heart of VC country outside Da Nang. Its possible they have never seen a Westerner.

The local gents wanted me to join them for tea in the community building. They were told I just got married to a Vietnamese Cai Luong singer. Everyone was happy but I wasn't sure they wanted me to drink tea or maybe it was really beer. Maybe they wanted me to give them money, build a school or cure the plague. You just can't be sure what people really want in Vietnam till they pop the question on you.

In the community building was a table and crew for collecting money for the performance and a big room where these guys had already been sitting. Setting on a perch in the corner was a benevolently smiling bust of Ho Chi Minh. On the wall were Certificates from the present government to local patriots for their service to a grateful nation during the great war of liberation. I looked at these guys and figured they were all old enough to have been VC during my first visit to this happy land. I accepted their gracious invitation to sit down and have a small cup of tea.

The tea was cold but the mood was jovial and the old boys were chatting with me as if I actually had a clue as to what they were talking about. When I confessed, they went right on anyway. At some point they gestured over to the money collecting operation. They looked pretty damned hopeful I was going to just jump up and drop a fifty on them. I acted really ignorant of their desires, took a few more sips of tea and got up. I shook everyone's hands and walked out. The show was starting and this little dusty intersection in the middle of Indian Country was full up with about two hundred people.

Cai Luong is like any other opera I guess. There are a few musicians, a few singers and a story with a moral. This will be the only live entertainment these people will probably ever see until the Cai Luong comes around again. The music is played on a few classic Vietnamese instruments that make no sound familiar to the Western ear. Vietnamese is a tonal language to begin with but when it is sung at 150 db on a poor sound system, outside on the street, it is almost painful to listen to. Luckily the theme of the night is an ancient love triangle and if you can imagine you are watching mime you can follow it easily. Attached are three photos. The first is taken during our visit to Thu An's friends house. They will be performing at this event. They are the two people directly next to Thu An. The second are these two people in costume and the last is Thu An and me. She put on her whole rig but didn't perform. I have photos of the performance but they are still in my camera undeveloped.

And there I Was

And there I was, surrounded, on the eve of Tet, a lone American in Da Nang, without a weapon. But the circumstances now are a little different than 34 years ago when I was lost in Da Nang after curfew. Now I am surrounded by beautiful Vietnamese women preparing my bride for our wedding. Where I am now is in room 303 of the Thuong Hai Hotel sitting on the bed. We are about a click or two from old MAG 11 and about two clicks from Dog Patch. The hotel is new, near the airport and the city seems filled with young people who have never known the war.

Across the room Thu An is getting bands of her hair carefully sprayed and placed into a little bun so it will accept a corsage and veil. How I got here is a really long story but now that I am here I am continuously performing mental health checks to see if I am crazy. There is no answer other than I love her and don't want to be without her. How many former Marine Vietnam veterans return for a look see and end up getting married? Probably not enough.

Later today we will go to a Chinese restaurant and have the wedding ceremony and party. We have two hours in the function room to get it done. Thu An has taken care of everything by herself, from photographers to limo to the beer and she is worried about whether it will fall together perfectly. My part is easy. All I have to do is slip into the suite she had made for me and accompany her through the ceremony.

The photographer's daughters are all over her getting her hair ready. My attempts at getting a few 'in process' photos are met with giggles and the rapid placement of hands over her face. I think she is beautiful without all that stuff but I guess she doesn't want to be seen until finished.

Now that the hair is done, its time to put on the gown. We were taking photos last night until 0130 so the gown should still be warm. It still fits pretty good but the zipper is jamming. One more hard tug and its all over, the zipper pulls apart. Each time they zip it up, it pulls apart. There is talk but there is no panic. A cell phone appears and the call goes out, in the mean time its back to makeup.

Within ten minutes, a new woman enters the room with a full garbage bag. Together they all look at the zipper and appear to declare it history. Out from the garbage bag is pulled a white gown with gold highlights. Thu An passes quick judgment and jumps in. It looks good on her, the right length and all, but its a little too big at the waist. The bag lady pulls from her pocket a roll of fabric. She unrolls it to reveal tiny scissors, a few needles and a small spool of white thread. She pinches at the darts at the waist to gauge the excess and then snips the thread holding the two darts together. She threads a needle, pulls the dart together and with a few quick stitches tightens the waist up a bit. After the same treatment to the other side, we're looking good. Triple A couldn't have been any faster and it had all the look and feel of a professional roadside service call. And then she was out the door with the old gown. No panic, instant service, everyone happy.

The time comes. We get out of the limo and enter the throng of family and friends waiting for us to arrive. I see some old friends. One, Aunt Hue, was married to an American GI during the war and speaks fair pidgeon English. Its good to see her and be able to talk to someone, anyone with some degree of ease. We laugh when I ask her if she thought I would really do it. She says a simple yes and smiles. Inside the restaurant we climb the stairs to the function room doors and stand to welcome the guests. The guests arrive and move in promptly. We greet many people I have met before during my earlier visits and there are many I have never seen before. They all shake my hand and wish me good things in Vietnamese. The children try out a 'Hello' They are smiling and look at me with total acceptance. They are amazed at Thu An standing next to me in her radiance. There are plenty of 'dep lam' meaning beautiful. I know who they are talking about and I'm glad to be able to stand next to her. Their warmth and obvious good will for an almost total stranger take all the rough edges off the free-floating anxiety I have felt for such a long time now. As they take their seats at the tables we are called in by the MC. We mount the stage, turn and face the guests to begin the wedding. I flash back to 34 years ago when I was lost on the streets of Da Nang on the eve of Tet; a lone Marine, without a weapon, after curfew, terrified and surrounded by Vietnamese, not knowing who is a friend and who a foe. And here I am.

Vietnam Photos

Here are some photos for you. I believe 'Out5' is just down the road to the left of the frame from 'Marine16'. Marine 15 and 16 were described to me as a place where Marines had compounds. As you can see the area is a huge industrial complex.
Marine 15 Marine 16 Out 5 If you look at Big tp Da Nang map you will see Dien Bien Phu ST running just under the big letters Q. Thanh Khe which is in the upper left. This street runs out of town to the left to the hills in the previous email. This road is the same road on the larger area map that runs out to Hoa Son. Hoa is a word for commune and may not relate to older maps that will have names of villages and hamlets.

Big Buddha is down this road just as you get out of town. This monastery is also an area said to be built on a Marine compound.
Big Map (click to enlarge) Big tp Da Nang (Click to enlarge) Big Budda Marine 1 and Out 6 are near each other. The hootch on the right in Out6 has a sign over its door that said RECON with a skull and crossbones. You can't tell but I remember.

Hill 22 road1 is a shot of the road leading up to Hill 22. Its a plowed dirt road. Its on the road between Hoa Son and Hoa Nhon right about where the DA in TP Da Nang is. I am still scanning photos from that roll. Its just a hill top where some obvious activity occured but aside from some old holes and busted bricks there is really nothing to see. Its totally overgrown except for the road. The locals told me the complex on Hill 22 was on both sides of this main street. I've also been over the Nam O bridge on the way to the Hai Van Pass and onward to Hue. This is an area that's ripe for touristy development. This area from Nam O and north around the point is very beautiful. Semper FI

Dick Brown
Marine 1 Out 6 Hill 22 Road 1

PROJECT DAI LOC

PROJECT DAI LOC A group of 7th Marine Viet Nam vets continues to make history...this time, some 35 years after the war, with a humanitarian effort to build a health clinic in the village known so well to those who served in the Danang area.

TEAM 7 will consist of twenty 7th Marine vets who will travel to Dai Loc, Viet Nam and spend about three weeks building the clinic and also hosting a MEDCAP for the villagers. They will work hand-in-hand with a Vietnamese construction team, and when TEAM 7 returns home the clinic will be staffed and run by the Vietnamese government.

Vets with a Mission (VWAM) will provide the necessary support and guidance to TEAM 7 and will conduct all necessary negotiations with the Vietnamese government. VWAM has built 25 clinics in Viet Nam since 1989 and they are all still in operation, greatly improving the health care of the very people the 7th Marines fought so hard to defend in the 60's.

Project Dai Loc is looking for 7th Marine vets who are interested in becoming TEAM 7 members, and also for those who cannot make the trip, but wish to be supporters of this worthwhile mission.

Project details can be found in several places:

On the "whats new" section of www.marzone.com , which is the definative source for the history of the Magnificent 7th in Viet Nam. www.vwam.com is Vets with a Mission's site, and it is full of historical info and loads of pictures. Finally, check out the Project Dai Loc website www.dennismartinez.net/team but be patient as it is still under construction. Interested supporters will be able to follow the progress of TEAM 7 on this site...right through mission completion.

The Dai Loc Health Station will be a permanent memorial to all who served with the Magnificent 7th Marines in Viet Nam. Who would have thought that 35 years later we would still be working as a team?

Gung Ho and Semper Fi!

Submitted by Steve Scott
26073 Ancuda Dr
Punta Gorda, FL 33983
H and S TACP 2/7 66-67
CPTScott@comcast.net
Nov 11, 2003

Declared Sane

Minh did a good job explaining the mental health check deal. He said the committee didn't accept a report from a US private doctor and I needed to be examined at a hospital.

Going there was an interesting experience and I have been having fun explaining this event with my colleagues here in the US. I knew no one at the mental hospital could speak English so I was expecting some mischievous fun. It started with the filling out of a certain form which was, of course, all in Vietnamese. Some of the lines I recognized from filling out the numerous visa applications and entry papers because they are bilingual. I know what a dia chi is, so I put in Thu An's street address. This caused a minor ruckus. The lady, of course, didn't buy it and wanted my US address. So I started over with a new form. From her reaction, these forms must be very expensive. On the next form, I didn't know what a few things were, so Thu An tried to help me, unsuccessfully. They do the same thing we do in Paris. If they think you don't understand what they are saying they say it louder the second time. I think she and the admitting nurse took over and finished it for me. I then had to sit across from another unhappy looking woman who looked it and me over for an exaggeratedly long time for no obvious reason.

After that, we went to see the doctor. The doctor was in a small room with two other women who were doing something suspicious when we entered. Whatever they were doing they quickly stopped and put it away. The desk top was warm and the room was warm so I think they were ironing clothes. The lady doctor looked the form over. Then she pulled out of the desk, ten ink blot test panels. These are papers on which is a random blob of ink that is then folded over on itself creating a butterfly type pattern. I knew what they were so I knew what she wanted me to do even though I didn't understand her. Only three of the ten resembled anything I had ever seen or could imagine. I pulled out my well worn dictionary and gave her a few key words. For each and she seemed totally satisfied. She got three responses out of ten. The rest looked like fresh road kill.

Somehow from this remarkable test she determined I was sane. I was much relieved because from the look of some of the residents this was not the place I wanted to spend a weekend.

We went back to the waiting area which was outside between the buildings. It was cold and a fair breeze was blowing through the area. Resident patients kept coming over to us asking for money or cigarettes. I assume if you have enough of either of these you can get out. They would line up in front of us with their hands stretched out until a handler moved them along. Thu An, Phiet and I waited for some time in the cold wind. Finally, Thu An asked for my wallet and plucked out 2,100,000 Dong notes, about 15 bucks. She carefully placed them in an envelope and delivered them to someone back in the reception room. Then, as if by magic, a signed, stamped medical certificate appeared. It is truly amazing. I have been to a number of these places in the US and I must say the patients in all of these places appear the same. Broken humans look and do the same things regardless of culture or race.

We left with a gaggle of patients in trail ever hopeful for some money, that in Vietnam spells RELIEF. I was grateful to be considered sane. We then jumped back on our motorbikes and re-entered Da Nang traffic which is crazier than those poor broken souls we left behind.

Semper Fi

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