It had been a boring evening, waiting for the plane
that would take me to a country I hadn't even heard of until
just a few years earlier. Vietnam... it just seems to slide
off the tongue when you say it, but there is so much more
to it for those who have been there. Especially if you were
there during the war.
The government chartered planes for us
on the trip to (and from) Vietnam. The plane I would be going
over on was a WORLD AIRWAYS plane. A charter airline that
traced its roots back to the Flying Tigers in China in the
pre-World War II days.
We were all herded onto the plane
and just took whatever seats were available. Looking back
on it now, many of the details escape me. But I do remember
that we had the oldest stewardesses I had ever seen in my
life! They all were old enough to be our mothers (in some
cases, our grandmothers!), which was supposed to keep
us in line, I guess. We flew from Los Angeles to Anchorage
Alaska, where we refueled, then flew on to the Philippines
for another refueling stop. Then it was on to Cam Ranh Bay AB,
Republic of (South) Vietnam.
I do remember that the closer we got to Vietnam
the more strained the atmosphere on the plane became and the
silence became almost deafening. You could smell the fear
and sense the trepidation that was felt by all. None of us
knew what to expect when we landed in Vietnam, and it was
that feat of the unknown that was so palpable. Every branch
of the service was represented on the plane, with all of us
destined to go to different areas in Vietnam, with different
units and with different responsibilities.
We all knew that we were headed for, "the
real thing" when we landed in the Philippines, deplaned
and were immediately surrounded by armed military police,
who herded us, like cattle, into a small souvenir shop where
we could purchase souvenirs for lovers, family and friends
back home. Only a few of the guys bought anything. The rest
of us milled around until we were formed back up and herded
back onto the plane for the rest of the journey. We were all
in a state of shock over being guarded by military
police at the airport in the Philippines. I asked one of the
military police why they were there and the sergeant told
me that some guys that were en route to Vietnam a month ago
had deserted while the plane was being refueled and serviced
in the Philippines, and they didn't want to take any chances
on that happening again. That was our first sign that things
were not going to be the way we had envisioned at all!
As we were
descending into Cam Ranh Bay AB, the base came under mortar and
rocket attack and the pilot of our plane had to abort the
landing rather rapidly. That entailed the pilot pulling back
on the wheel and sending those of us in the aisle (returning
from a visit to the lavatory) tossing about the plane. We
circled the area off the coast of Vietnam until the attack
was over, then we landed without further incident.
Before we were allowed to deplane, these short, stocky
guys 'in tan uniforms came on the plane and sprayed something
all over us. Then, we walked off the plane into what seemed
like a furnace. There was a stench that seemed to hang in
the air and it was so hot and humid it was like it just sucked
the breath right out of you. By the time you got to the bottom
of the stairs, you were soaked with sweat, then you had to
walk to the terminal (a large hanger), where there was a dividing
line (made up of floor-to-ceiling cyclone fencing to keep
those arriving from those departing.
I looked
at the guys leaving and it seemed really weird, as none of
them really looked at us... it was as though they were looking
'through' us, and seeing things that no human being should
ever have to see. It was a scary feeling, but the look was
something I later found to be called the "1000-yard stare"
that a lot of vets get after being in Vietnam for a few months.
Every now and then one of the guys leaving would mutter something
like, "Man, are you in for it now!" Of course, all
that did was add to the mystery and to our anxiety.
Since Vietnam there have been many experiences I have
had that have upset me, but nothing has ever influenced me
like that first day in Vietnam - with all those unknowns ahead
of all of us. Within a few months I would find myself, like
so many others, believing that I would never leave Vietnam
alive. Once you accept something like that it takes a huge
weight off your shoulders, but it also puts this large albatross
around your neck. Life can never be the same after such an
experience as Vietnam.
It would be years
before I could bring myself to talk about Vietnam, to express
the way I FELT when I was there, to understand that it was
OKAY to acknowledge that I had been there and that I had SURVIVED
Vietnam. But the grief never leaves you, the guilt never leaves
you and the sense of loss and despair is ever-present, you
just learn to deal with it in, the best way that you can.
For some, alcohol and drugs became their coping mechanism.
For others, it was becoming a workaholic, addicted to your
job and so enmeshed with your job that it becomes for you
what defines you as a person.
The best part of 'looking
back on Vietnam" is just that--that I can look back on
it, that I am HERE to to look back on it--that, to this point,
I have SURVIVED Vietnam and everything since.
