Reminicing the Vietnam War

 

I arrived in a C-130 out of Clark AFB in July 1972 and left in May 1974. I was the lone human passenger and an E-3. I came from Malmstrom AFB and was a tool issue supply clerk with supply point experience in Minuteman Missiles (SAC). It was so cold in that plane I liked to have froze solid in my 1505 short-sleeved tropical uniform and the crew chief neglected me. 

 

1505 tropical uniform

To this day I would like to kick his arse.  Especially when by the time we actually landed, it was about a hundred degrees inside the cargo compartment of the plane.

Tent city was still going strong and I elected to move into a hootch from the open bay barrack that I stayed in the 1st week. That was awful with no fan and lizards all over the walls and ceilings combined with the National Geographic/Vietnam War in full swing with aircraft blasting the skies on afterburner. We had F-4 Phantom jets and when they took off in pairs it was so loud my ears would ring and all conversation would stop until it was over.

The point is I came when the base reopened and it was wild and woolly in the extreme. 19 bars opened up on the strip and a good number that were off limits. My buddy and roommate Tim Wheeler told me that in all the years he was in the AF, he remembers this time as the best.

There is a tale to be told in the middle and we all have them, but I was also there when most of the G.I’s and working girls left and many of the bars and stores closed and it was a quiet and very sad time. Takhli AFB and Bahn Takhli will always be a major part of my coming of age experience and like many, I cherish the memory and forget how many long hours I worked.

Just like when I arrived, I caught the freedom jet and I was the lone passenger leaving Takhli. I think this is one of the reasons so many airmen didn’t experience the “spitting” and derogatory remarks of protestors. Many of us came back one at a time and we made very small imprints on agitators. I have always claimed and believe I would have knocked the teeth out of anyone who spit on me because I was in uniform.

I would be interested in your initial response when you arrived. I remember the jungle humid mildew smell when the door opened on that C-130 and the thought that I would have to spend a year in this jungle hell-hole. So my initial thought was very sad and very negative. it changed very shortly when the world class adventure began.

Freedom bird back to the States (not mine)

The Republic for which it stands

Our founding fathers gave us a Republic, not a Democracy.

I was probably about 17 the first time I picked up a copy of George Orwell's book, 1984. I'm thinking this was 1969 and just before I real Tolkien's trilogy the first time. We were coming out of the turbulent 1960's and I was a young man close to graduating high school with no plan for my future. All that was about to change with the Vietnam War on my horizon, but I didn't know that. I learned of the horror of war about this time when I found a copy of "Johnny got his gun". About 10 years ago, I reread it and Fahrenheit 451.

I have this predilection to read everything concerning a subject until I fully understand it. For instance, about 20 years ago I became interested in black history. 19 books later, I pushed back from the library table, sated. Unfortunately, like food for the stomach, I consume this knowledge and it fades, so once again I find I need to go back and reread some material. This is what is happening now with the book "1984". Now somewhere over the years, I also saw the movie and have heard reference to this book many times. Now it comes to me that many of the folks who claim knowledge of it have only seen the movie.

If they would have read the book, they would be shaking in their boots over the current climate in the United States social political scene. Donald Trumps systematic dismantling of the oligarchic democracy would be impossible in Orwell's dystopian society. Heck, it might just be impossible in ours. Our government has ceased to be a republic and we proles don't even know it - or care. As long as we get our government bread and circuses, we are happy to be blissfully ignorant of how a select few dictate what we accept as the norm.

Our government has directly adopted Orwell's War is Peace philosophy and each new President, regardless of said position carries it forward. The United States is the most predatory country on earth. In the name of freedom, we walk all over countries traditions and culture and ruin them. To get an idea of how many troops we have in foreign countries "protecting them", our military in Europe spends close to a million dollars a day on alcohol and food alone. War means money and by golly, we are good at it. The USA spends more on "defense" than the next 7 countries put together. We have 200,000 troops stationed in 177 countries, yet we can't stop drugs from flooding into our own land.

Orwell coined the term Newspeak. While there are many interpretations of what exactly this is, suffice it to say almost everything we read and hear as news has been massaged to get across someone's interpretation. Gone are Chet and David and Walter. What we have now are a group of giddy news teams or angry late night "comedians" telling us the real dirt. When only 20% of the adult world will read a newspaper and 62% get all their "news" from Facebook, we have set ourselves up to run off the nearest cliff.

A man at work one day got defensive and all but yelled "I don't discuss politics with friends!" I looked at the fellow and I swear the thought that ran through my mind was, "Well then, who do you discuss them with - enemies?" Anyone who challenges you to define what you believe, is your friend. Don't get mad or defensive, get educated. If you belly up to The View to get the news, then god bless you, but I wouldn't recommend that line. I watch the athletes taking a knee at professional sports venues and I wonder how much history do they know or care about. I watch angry people incited by who knows who, stage protests, yet when reporters ask them to define their grievances, they are so vague that a 5th grader would walk away confused.

As in 1984, we are erasing history until many people cannot explain major events. Ask about the Spanish flu of 1918 that killed 20-50 million people worldwide and they stare back at you with hollow eyes. Don't even ask them about World War One... or Two or the Civil War. They think Vietnam was WWII in size and scope and their line of reference is Saving Private Ryan. At the end of the movie, many couldn't tell which war it was.

It's time to drain the swamp. Boot out the old guard and bring in the new who remember what a Republic is. Our democratic oligarchy is killing our freedoms. We must vote out the established cancerous system. Privileged "representatives" on both sides of our government are screaming foul because they see their thrones threatened. Their only concern is staying in office. It doesn't matter who is in the White House as long as they can conduct business as usual and that business has nothing to do with you or me.

Freedom of speech? There is no freedom of speech, because of newspeak, political correctness trumps it. You literally cannot say anything that could possibly be offensive to one of 500 splinter groups or you are a monster. A monster and a pervert and a racist. People literally want to kill you or have you locked up. Back in the day, folks would just avoid you and mark you as someone undesirable, but they sure didn't try to stuff a sock down your throat. No. There is no first Amendment freedom of speech right. It's gone.

Time to vote. Time to drain the swamp.

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Oh to be sixteen again!

I live a life of self-discipline 99% of the time. It is self-imposed and often causes distress to my bride especially when I’m driving and pointing out other peoples liberties. I admit this, but what really cooks her proverbial goose is when I’m not. This week was one of those times and you know what? It felt good.

I was 15 when I bought my first car and I can assure you, my buddy Dandy Don Cunningham will follow this story with great interest, as will other car-loving folks of the 60’s. Was my first car a 1967 Pontiac GTO with a 389 C.U. motor? Or a kick booty 68 Chevelle 396 Super Sport like Butch Hodges has? No.

It was a 1963 maroon Corvair Monza with two 1-barrel carbs and an honest to god 4 on the floor! I drove that car like a literal scalded ape. I say that because I am convinced that is what a scalded ape would look like if it had 4 tires and was driven by a 16 year old male. My mom would watch me drive slowly down the asphalt road in North Georgia and I would turn off onto a hilly dirt road and ease out of sight.

At this point I would become a seasoned dirt track driver for the doomed Chevrolet Corvair; the car Ralph Nader said was “Unsafe at any speed”. Supposedly, the rear coil springs would fold under turning stress, but I could never duplicate the dangerous maneuver, no matter how many donuts I cut. I would have that rear-engine 4 banger rapped out and around and around I would go until I calmly returned to the pavement and deliberately drove home under the speed limit.

Years would pass including the Vietnam War and my part in it and I came out the other side being a very different person. No more risks or shenanigans that were potentially out of my control for me contrary to appearances. A famous dare-devil, which incidentally was killed doing a stunt, explained his life like this: “We remove all possibility of an accident before the stunt, and then do it.”

Well, one stunt had an unexpected variable and that was all it took for his safe stunt to kill him. My act of irresponsibility was along the same line of thought and worked out for me with nothing more than egg on my face, or rather a filthy Jeep stuck in a ditch. I reasoned beforehand that I were to get stuck, one of the passing trucks would lend a hand.

Now before I give the slippery details, let me state that I did not tread heavily. I didn’t leave giant tractor-turning-over ruts. I was cool and calculating and made a common error of wrong approach or I would have gone in one side and out the other. In off-roading, you almost always tackle a depression at an angle and that is what I did and nice and slow. Only in professional racing and car commercials do you blast through an obstacle.

Easing down into the 4 feet of water-filled ditch, my passenger-side tire slid to the left and dropped me into the ditch.  If I would have tackled the ditch head-on with power, I could have blasted through, but left a lot of disturbance. I drove up and down the ditch and soon realized that I could not get out. At that point, I waded out of my Jeep to the back and pulled out 70 feet of chain and straps and a shackle.  I hooked them up to the front and pulled the long line up on the road to await extraction by what turned out to be another Jeep driven by Shaun Holloway.

I watched burly pick-up truck after truck blow by with not so much as a wave - to my disappointment in my fellow Texans. The day before I had rescued an 82 year old lady and her son from a stalled car in the rain and the very day I was stuck, I changed a flat tire on I-10 and Sjolander for 2 ladies in distress.  The Jeeper pulled me out after a bit of strategy and I was on my way.

Now, did I learn my lesson?  Yea.  I learned this lesson 40 years ago, but it did feel good to revisit my teen years. I can’t say if this line of reasoning will appear again anytime soon, well, maybe in another 40 years.

General Martin Dempsey

General Martin Dempsey

Last night while we were watching the PBS Memorial Day ceremony, they introduced the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Martin Dempsey. My eyeballs almost popped out and I blurted:
"He doesn't have either Vietnam medals!"

I guess the man was too young to make the war.

Republic of Vietnam campaign medal

What does that make me and the rest of us Vietnam Veterans?  Dinosaurs?  Are we now like the vanishing WWII and Korean War Vets to the general public?  I found this very disturbing.  I don't feel all that old and I have both these medals and the DD-214 to prove it.

Vietnam Service Medal