Shots Fired

CHAPTER VI

We had heard that if we came under fire, we would have to radio back to Naval Support Activity Saigon, explain the situation, and get their permission to return fire. Once when I thought the Craft Master was in a good mood, (very rare) I asked if that was true? He said “I will make the decision on when, and if we return fire”.
Many times as we traveled up and down the river we would hear shots fired, but we never saw the enemy, no one got hit, and since we were moving, we would pretty much ignore it, until one day as we were moving down river, and I was manning the starboard .50, we heard a shot fired from the river bank starboard side, not more than 150 meters away. I quickly moved the gun slightly to the left, where I picked up a person in my sites dressed in black, as he (she) ducked behind some green foliage, a broad leaf plant of some kind. I yelled to the pilot house, “I see him, should I open fire”? Which I was well prepared to do, but the Craft Master said, “Forget it!” A couple minutes later we were well on down the river, and the incident was over, but my heart was still beating 90 miles an hour. That was the first time that I almost squeezed the trigger on another human being, and I didn’t like the feeling.

The second time it happened, we were moored port side to the pier, (I can’t remember where), it was in the middle of the night, maybe 1or2 in the morning, and I was on guard with my trusty 12ga shotgun.
I was standing up on the port wing of the bridge, when I heard a noise port side aft. As I looked back that way, I saw a brand new case of c-rations lying on the pier. A moment later a very young Vietnamese man jumped up on the pier, and reached for the c-rations. Thinking that he was a thief, I aimed the shotgun at his head, and yelled for him to halt. Now we were not that far away from each other, and he could see that shotgun barrel pretty clear, so he threw his hands in the air and screamed, “No shoot, No shoot!” I could see that he was not armed, and before I could say anything else, I heard the voice of one of our crew members saying, “It’s ok Larry, I gave him the box of c-rations.
This crew member was openly gay, and would often bring young Vietnamese boys on board, and sometimes keep them in his state room overnight. It was pretty obvious to me why he had given him the c-rations.
I told him that he would somehow have to square it with the Store Keeper in the morning, or I would tell him, and he said he would. Immediately the boy shouldered the c-rations and ran off down the pier, and into the night.

Apples

I should have written this over 30 years ago, but I didn’t want to, and still don’t really, (I mostly just wanted to forget about it), but I will because my daughter wants me to, although it may not be as exciting as she would like.
My Viet Nam story is not your typical war story.
In a years time we made one trip up river every five to six days, but there were a couple of times that we were broke down, and had to sit and wait for parts, so it is not possible for me to remember every trip. It just seems like we were going up river, or down river constantly, and for the most part we were. What I remember now are mostly just certain incidents.
There were times when we had to move fairly close to one bank of the river, or the other to stay in the deep water, and this one place, there was a small village, and as we passed, there was always small naked children playing, women washing clothes in the river, and a few men standing farther back, but they would always wave to us, and we would wave back.
Where the women washed clothes there was a wide board that extended out into the river about 15ft, propped up by a couple of stakes in the water, but only a few inches above the water. There always seemed to be a woman squatted at the end of this makeshift dock washing clothes.
One day, as I was about take my watch on the port .50, I had an apple in my hand, and I thought to myself, “I’ll bet these people have never even seen an apple, much less eaten one”, so I threw the apple toward the lady on the board. Somehow she saw the apple coming and immediately stuck her fingers in her ears, and ran for the nearest hut. It was a pretty good toss and the apple splashed into the water about 10ft up river from where the lady was, and began to float downriver. One of the naked little boys, noticing that it was floating, and did not explode, jumped in the water, and swam after it, coming up with it, and holding it in the air showing us that he had it. A few of us applauded the boy, but the Craft Master said, “That was stupid, you just wasted a perfectly good apple”.
The next trip by, I think the whole village was down on the bank waving to us, so we threw a few more apples, and this time the bigger boys, and two of the men swam for the apples. After that it became a regular thing as we passed that village.
Then one day we pulled into Saigon, and one of our men finished his tour of duty, and went home. The next morning as we were loading cargo we got a replacement, and let’s just say this guy was a little different. Right away he started talking about how he wanted to start killing “Gooks”.
He was pretty disappointed when he found out that the guy who just left had been there a year, and had never killed anybody. We told him that if killing was what he wanted, he should transfer to one of the PBR’s, but as far as I know, he never put in for it.
That next trip as we passed the village, he decided to throw potatoes, and that would have been okay except that he was trying to hit the people. I said, “What are you doing”? and he said, “So what, they’re nothing but a bunch of gooks, and they will probably be shooting at us next week”, and I said, “Yeah they probably will now”. After that a couple of the other guys joined in the potato throwing, but that day was the last apple I threw.
So much for public relations.

South China Sea

Chapter Four



We left Cat Lo at day break the next morning, heading out into the South China Sea. We would be out of site of land for a time, so the Craft Master charted a course to the mouth of the other river (Mekong Tributary), the mouth of this river was nearly eight miles wide, and in some places less than five feet deep, and the mud underneath the water could have been 30ft deep, who knows.

On that morning the Boss, (Craft Master) said to me, “ Today you are going to learn how to steer by the Compass.” Now this compass was old, built probably in the early forties. Suspended in some kind of thick liquid, and she came around mighty slow, which meant that when the boat came around, you had to wait for the compass to catch up, and it was very easy to over compensate, and for that reason the wheel was on manual steering. About a mile out the seas got a little heavy, and we were not heading straight into the wind, consequently, every time we came up on a swell at an angle, the boat would slide off the swell, thus throwing us off course.

If you have ever tried to steer a car when the power steering goes out, then you have some idea of what it was like, heaving back and forth on that wheel. I was supposed be relieved after one hour, but he made me stay on the wheel all the way to the mouth of the other river, and by this time I was pretty much getting the hang of it, and plenty tired.

When we hit the brown water, I went on lookout, mostly to rest I think.

After about half an hour we came to a string of fish nets, anchored by bamboo stakes that looked to be stretched all the way across the river, but we were headed for a relatively small opening. On the left side of this opening was a straw hut mounted on stilts. There was nothing else for miles in any direction, but when we passed through the opening an extremely skinny old Vietnamese man dressed only in shorts came to the door of the hut, and waved to us, and we all waved back, except the man on the port .50, who had the gun pointed at him the whole time, but as far as I could tell, he was just a harmless old man. We passed him by and headed on up river. Awhile later as the river narrowed somewhat, we began to use landmarks as our bearings to stay in the deep water, and these landmarks had to be memorized for the next trip. Of course the Craft Master, and the guys who had made the trip many times before, already had, but the river was constantly changing, and once in awhile we would slide up over an underwater sandbar that we didn’t know was there. (I have a story about one of those times that happened about six months later while I was on the wheel).

Once in awhile there would be a very small village with the buildings on stilts right on the bank of the river. There would be small naked children running around, and women washing clothes in the river, but we saw very few men, and most of the ones we did see were old. We would sometimes speculate about where the young men were. Some thought that they were “Viet Cong” out somewhere fighting our people, and we watched these people very close, but they always waved to us, and we waved back.

Before dark we reached our next stop. We tied up at the PBR Pier, at the town of My Tho, (Pronounced “Me Toe”). We had our own winch & boom crane, so we unloaded their cargo of food and ammo.

When we were finished, we lit off the Webber Grills, and had New York Strip steaks with all the trimmings, and plenty of beer for supper.

(To be continued)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mekong_River

Cat Lo, First Stop

Main Gate at Cat Lo

When we arrived that first morning at pier side, the crew was already at work loading cargo for the next trip up river. I say up river, but as it turned out, we had to go down river first. I’ll get to that a little later.
We hardly got our gear stowed when they put us to work with the rest of the crew loading cargo. There was a portable crane on the dock that swung out over the boat with a long cable attached to a large nylon net that moved most of the cargo.
We loaded food into two refrigerated cargo holds, one for fresh vegetables, and one for frozen stuff, mostly meat. We worked most of the day loading various things, including 1,000 cases of c-rations.
Some of the guys went into town that night on what the Navy calls Liberty. Sort of a “night on the town”, you might say. I crawled into my bunk quite early, and slept pretty well until 0600 the next morning.
We had our own little Galley (Kitchen), and our own cook, and he fixed eggs to order, sausage, hash-browns, and toast. As I ate my breakfast I thought, maybe this war wasn’t going to be too bad after all.
At 0800 we got underway and headed slowly down river, because the river traffic was very congested. This river was only one of the many tributaries of the Mekong Delta, and each one had a name of it’s own, this one that ran through Saigon was called the Long Tau River.
When we cleared the city, there was nothing but river ahead of us. The river water was the same color as the lower Mississippi, only not so wide.
Very obvious to the eye, was the fact that the jungle on both sides of the river was defoliated as far as the eye could see. It was like solid mud with old snags sticking up here and there. This was done because large merchant ships came up this river with supplies from the U.S. and this (supposedly) left no cover for the Viet Cong, in their attacks on these ships, and I suppose it helped somewhat.
As we picked up speed down river, I think we got up to about 12 knots, (Close to 15 MPH), and that was only because we were going down stream.
Two of the new guys were staying hidden behind the metal bulkheads of the cargo passage ways, because they didn’t know what to expect. One was up in the pilot house, learning how to steer, and I was on fantail (Rear main deck), maning one of the two M-60 machine guns mounted on each side of the aft deck.
About two miles down stream from Saigon, I watched as two of the higher ranking men, (There were no officers on this boat) came walking out on deck in cutoff fatigue shorts, no shirts, and wearing flip flops. Each one carrying a mixed drink in one hand, and a chaise longue in the other. They set them up facing aft, kicked back in the sun to enjoy the “cruse”. My mouth was hanging open so far I thought my chin was going to hit the deck. Of course these guys were not standing any watches. Turns out that only 3rd class petty officers and below, stood all the watches, both underway, and pier side, and we, (I was one of those that stood the watches) were constantly on watch when the boat was under way.
On this trip us new guys were learning the watches, so we were always with someone else until we got the hang of it, and we had to learn it all on this trip, which turned out to be 5 or 6 days.
Each watch lasted one hour, and then you rotated to a different station.
Station #1 was on the Helm, (Steering the boat) #2 was the Port .50 caliber machine gun. #3 was lookout (binoculars), #4 was the starboard .50, #5 was the M-60 machine gun on the bow, (.30 caliber), #6 was the M-60 starboard aft, #7 was the M-60 port aft, and #8 was the engine room. Then you just started all over again. Sometimes we were underway from sun up until sun down, but we never traveled at night.
Our next stop was at the mouth of the river, at a town called Cat Lo. There was a Navy Base there with a permanent dock, with a refueling facility, and there was two small Coast Guard patrol craft tied up there. This is where we picked up our cargo of ammunition that we delivered up river to the PBR (Patrol Boat River) Bases.
We arrived there early enough that we finished loading the ammo before sundown. Since we were spending the night here, some of us had a chance to go to the enlisted men’s club on the base, to have a few brews.
Some of the guys had watches that night. They were 4hr watches. One man, armed with a 12 gage shotgun, or a .45 automatic, or both, if you proffered. That was my choice the whole time I was there. He walked the decks for four hours, then he was relieved and some one else took his place.
That was my first day on the river, no problems no in incidents so far.

Singer Comedien Martha Raye

* Genre: Vocal Music
* Active: '50s
* Instrument: Vocals

Biography
A popular singer, comedienne and actress comfortable with both nightclubs and the theater, Martha Raye received many awards and performed for servicemen during World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War.

Martha Raye was born Margaret Teresa Yvonne O'Reed in Butte, Montana. She was influenced by her vaudeville parents and at the age of three became part of their act. At the age of 13, she was a singer with a band. Her boisterous and comedic attitude led her into an acting career, which began with her Broadway debut in 1934 in Calling All Stars. A year later, she made her film debut in Rhythm on the Range. Most of her roles were minor until 1947, when she played a murder victim in Monsieur Verdoux. Her acting career did not end in films, as she went on to host her own variety show The Martha Raye Show in 1955. She returned to the stage in 1967 when she replaced Ginger Rogers in Hello Dolly on Broadway and in 1972 was the lead in No, No Nanette.

Raye began entertaining troops all over the world in 1942. Known as "Colonel Maggie," she would dress in fatigues, including combat boots, tie and Green Beret and raise morale with her singing and comedic talents. She traveled to and from Vietnam for nine years, sometimes performing services as a nurse as well as on stage. In the late '60s, she performed at the McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey for the Anniversary of Women in the Air Force, while starring in the musical play Hello Sucker. She received the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award in 1969 for her service to the troops in Vietnam. For her service to America, Raye also received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1993.

During her television career, Martha Raye performed in many commercials and had supporting roles on such popular shows as McMillan and Wife and Alice. In 1991, she filed suit against the producers of For the Boys claiming that the famous Bette Midler film was based on her own personal experiences, but her efforts were unsuccessful.

Married seven times, Raye had only one daughter. Martha Raye died Oct 19, 1994 at Los Angeles. She was buried in the military cemetery at Fort Bragg, NC, in recognition of her more than 50 years of service to the military as "Colonel Maggie." ~ Kim Summers, All Music Guide

Martha Raye

Here are the links for the Martha Raye videos.

I don't know how to put YouTube videos on this blog. Can it be done?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLSgWXDpC_o
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m6Mm66TRfzU

Annapolis Hotel

Chapter Two:

The Annapolis Hotel served as a transient barracks for all Naval Personnel coming into, or leaving Viet Nam. We checked in there, were assigned a bunk, and a locker, stowed our gear, except for our medical and personnel records which we took with us, and climbed back on the bus, and headed down town Saigon to the Hospital which took care of all military, (and civilian) personnel.

On the way in, as we approached the door, we met Martha Raye coming out. She was all decked out in full greens, and as always had a big smile on her face. I think I was the only one who recognized her. I said “Hi Martha”, she turned to me with a big smile, and said “Well good morning sailor, are you coming or going.” “I just got here, I’m checking in now”. She said, “where are you being assigned?” “YFR889”, I said. She said, “That’s a new one on me”. “Me too”, I said. We both laughed, an she said, “Well, good luck sailor, nice to have met you”. I said, “It was nice meeting you too”. I never saw her again the whole year I was there.

After we finished checking in at the Hospital, we climbed back on the bus and headed over to the personnel office, where we were officially assigned to “Naval Support Activity Saigon”. Then it was back on the bus. The driver said, “Anybody need anything from the PX“, and of course we all said yes.

When we got to the PX, the first thing I tried to buy was cigarettes. At the time I smoked “Salem Menthol”, but they told me that the PX didn’t carry them, if you want Salem you have to buy them off the “Black Market” on the street , and that’s what I did until I went aboard the boat (YFR).

We got back to the Annapolis Building just before “Chow time”, [lunch]. The chow hall was in another building, a few blocks away, and very much like the Annapolis building, so a group of us walked over there and had lunch. Us new guys were still a little “Nervous” about walking around Saigon by ourselves. So the next three or four days that we were there, we went in groups.

I bought four packs of Salem cigarettes on the street, and found that they were still cheaper than retail in the States.

One morning early, the four of us were told to pack our gear, our boat was in. This time they hauled us down to the pier in the back of a pickup truck.

We climbed out of the truck, and there she was, in all her splendor , the YFR889. (To be continued)

My First Day In VietNam

It was the first week in February 1967, I was flying into Viet Nam on board a civilian 727. I remember being surprised that we were boarding a civilian plane, knowing where we were headed. I have since forgotten the name of the airlines, but I do remember that the service was outstanding, and the Stewardesses were more mature than you might see on an ordinary flight. I found out later that only the ones with the most seniority got these flights, mainly because they got paid really good for flying into a “Combat Zone”.

   As we taxied to a stop on the on the runway at Ton Son Nhut Airbase at Saigon, we were told to stay in our seats until orders were given to deplane. I looked out the window and saw maybe four jeeps mounted with .50 caliber machine guns, racing down the runway. Around ten minutes later the plane moved off to the left, stopped,  the engines shut down, and we were told to deplane. We were never told what the jeeps were up to, or why the ten minute wait, and as far as I know, nobody ever asked.

    We were met immediately by a Chief Petty Officer in fatigues with a clipboard, who held a muster to make sure we were all there. He then called out four of us, and said we were being reassigned to the YFR889. Originally we had orders to the APL25. None of us had any idea at the time what either one of those things were.

    The four of us were escorted by the officer to a bus, with no idea where we were going, and by this time it was beginning to get dark, and it was fully dark by the time we got to our destination, which turned out to be what we in the military call, a tent city. All the tents were connected together by trenches, not quite chest deep on me, and I was about six feet tall at that time.

He took us to a very large tent that had no lights at all inside. Once inside with the door shut he turned on a flashlight, and took us to the back of the tent where there was a large pile of folding bunks, stacks of mattresses, and folded blankets, (No pillows). He said “set up a bunk and get some sleep, someone will be here to get you up at 0600”. It couldn’t have been no later than 2100. Even at that I didn’t sleep very much.

      Finally 0600 came and a young Army PFC in green fatigues came to the door and said you better get up if want any “chow”. Since we were sleeping in our uniforms, (I had only taken off my shoes) we were right behind the soldier heading along the trench to the Mess Tent. On the way, we saw soldiers from, what seemed like 5 or 6 different countries, coming and going, and also eating at the mess tent. The breakfast was not bad, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast from what tasted like homemade bread.

      After breakfast, we were herded along with a bunch of other men to another bus, or maybe the same one, a gray school bus type, and driven to downtown Saigon, to the Annapolis Hotel. (The above photo).

I Came Out Today

As some of you know, I teach a Bible study every Tuesday afternoon at the house of a friend and fellow Church member, and have been for over six years now.

For the past ten years I have been studying the doctrines of the Seventh Day Adventist Church, and have, (through much prayer) come to believe their way. Not that there is that much difference from the doctrines of the church I am going to at the moment, but there are some, not the least of which is that the SDA Church worships on Saturday, (The Biblical Sabbath), plus a few other little things that are not really consequential to ones salvation, but to some in the church, a few of these little things could be construed as heresy. So for the past eight years, you might say that I have been living as a "Closet Seventh Day Adventist". That is until today.

Some weeks ago we started studying the book of Revelation. I knew it would be difficult, and I knew there were places in Revelation where I would have to declare my belief or lie to those in the class by saying that I believed something else.
I used the Bible as it's own interpreter, and presented my case. At the same time, making it clear that they did not have to believe the way I did, knowing they had been taught something else all their christian lives, though I did think that I had presented a pretty good case.

I told them that if they thought I was teaching heresy, they could fire me as their teacher, or they could report to our Pastor that I was teaching heresy, but to my surprise they thought that was funny, and said, "No way was I ever going to be fired", in fact at least two people agreed with my theology.

I then told them that my beliefs were those of the Seventh Day Adventist Church, and I got another surprise when everyone told me what a great Bible study it was, as my wife and I left to go home.

Now you might be saying, "If you are a Seventh Day Adventist, why aren't you going to one of their Churches"? The answer is, the nearest church is a little over twenty miles away from my house, and my social security check doesn't stretch too far with gas prices the way they are.

I really feel a lot better now that it's all out in the open, but now I still have my Sunday School Class to face, and I'm sure they will all know about it by Sunday. We shall see. I'm not too concerned though, because I've talked it over with the One who really matters.

Through The Window

A young couple moves into a new neighborhood. The next morning while they are eating breakfast, the young woman sees her neighbor hanging the wash outside. "That laundry is not very clean", she said. "She doesn't know how to wash correctly. Perhaps she needs better laundry soap" Her husband looked on, but remained silent. Everytime her neighbor would hang her wash to dry, the young woman would make the same comments. About one month later, the woman was surprised to see a nice clean wash on the line and said to her husband: "Look, she has learned how to wash correctly. I wonder who taught her this?" The husband said, "I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows." And so it is with life. What we see when watching others, depends on the purity of the window through which we look. Before we give any criticism, it might be a good idea to check our state of mind and a sk ourselves if we are ready to see the good rather than to be looking for something in the person we are about to judge

Timeless

Time, it’s changing me,

It’s hard to see who I am.

Touched, I’m touched by many things

So many things I don’t understand,

But seasons pass and I discover,

Above all this there’s another

Helping me to hold on to what is timeless.

So the autumn can color me gold

And the winter can dress me in snow,

But it’s You I see, the timeless part of me.

In the springtime I’m young once again.

In the summer I dance on the wind,

But it’s You I see,

The timeless part of me.

Change, whether it’s good or bad,

You know I’m glad

You’re in control.

Oh Lord, if I don’t understand,

I know Your hand will shield my soul.

Seasons pass and I discover,

Above all this there’s another,

Helping me to hold on to what is timeless.

So the autumn can color me gold,

And the winter can cover me in snow,

But it’s you I see,

The timeless part of me.

In the springtime I’m young once again

In the summer I dance on the wind,

But it’s You I see,

The timeless part of me. (Levi Kreis)