M Y O B

Change we can bereave in

I have a real knack for breaking computers and software; if anyone can force a “restart”, I can! So, while my blog is being rebuilt by an expert (in a new and better format), I’ll take this moment to post my next “occasional rant”.

/rant mode ON

Readers of this blog will be well aware how delighted I was that Barack Obama was elected as President. Alas, the bloom is off the rose. As with most politicians, once in office, he has found it convenient to forget many of his campaign promises. There’s nothing new about this, but like many others, I believed Barack was somehow “different”.

And, different he is. His ability to string together a group of words to form a sentence is *so refreshing after 8 years of Bush’s incoherent ramblings. But George could keep his party in line (with Cheney as “enforcer”): Mr. Obama seems  unable to bring the democrats into line to give him the support any president needs to succeed. Perhaps those who thought he should remain in the Senate a few more years before running for President were right.

Making the war in Afghanistan his own will prove to be a terrible mistake. The Afghanis have successfully driven out every invader of their territory, starting with Alexander the Great! We should go. Now! The money we spend there now could buy up the entire poppy production for years; we could refine the product into useful morphine, and **burn the rest of it. The money could then be spent by the Afghanis as they see fit.

If one accepts the need to sacrifice 30K more men to this fruitless enterprise, (I don’t) he could at least have taken the opportunity to explain that to get that many men into uniform we will have to accept men and women regardless of their sexual orientation: no dice.

As for the group of jerks we collectively call Congress, they should all be utterly ashamed of themselves. Harry Reid is a wimp. The Senate majority “whip” (Dickless Durbin) couldn’t swat a fly. After months of wrangling, the bought-and-paid-for in the Senate have destroyed current hopes of a true reform of health care and have delivered the American public into the hands of the insurance and pharmaceutical industries. Against a proven majority, the Republinuts have won!

President Obama should long ago have made it clear he will not sign a health-care bill that does not included a “robust” public option. He should do so immediately, even though it is probably too late.

The list of visages on the TV that make me want to vomit has grown very large in recent days. It began with George Bush, whose appearance always made me switch channels lest I blow chunks on the carpet. He’s now been joined by John “Beaner” and Mitch McConnell, both right up there with Sarah “Pailin” and turn-coat Joe Lieberman. *Especially Joe Lieberman, raking in millions to deliver health-care to the “industry”. What a jerk!

Here’s my opinion of the whole friggin lot of politicians in Washington, who with almost no exceptions are willing to sell the population down the river to save their own fat perks.

(photo)

/rant mode OFF

I have a real knack for breaking computers and software; if anyone can force a “restart”, I can! So, while my blog is being rebuilt by an expert (in a new and better format), I’ll take this moment to post my next “occasional rant”.

/rant mode ON

Readers of this blog will be well aware how delighted I was that Barack Obama was elected as President. Alas, the bloom is off the rose. As with most politicians, once in office, he has found it convenient to forget many of his campaign promises. There’s nothing new about this, but like many others, I believed Barack was somehow “different”.

And, different he is. His ability to string together a group of words to form a sentence is so refreshing after 8 years of Bush’s incoherent ramblings. But George could keep his party in line (with Cheney as “enforcer”): Mr. Obama seems unable to bring the democrats into line to give him the support any president needs to succeed. Perhaps those who thought he should remain in the Senate a few more years before running for President were right.

Making the war in Afghanistan his own will prove to be a terrible mistake. The Afghanis have successfully driven out every invader of their territory, starting with Alexander the Great! We should go. Now! The money we spend there now could buy up the entire poppy production for years; we could refine the product into useful morphine, and burn the rest of it. The money could then be spent by the Afghanis as they see fit.

If one accepts the need to sacrifice 30K more men to this fruitless enterprise, (I don’t) he could at least have taken the opportunity to explain that to get that many grunts into uniform we will have to accept men and women regardless of their sexual orientation: another chance missed.

As for the group of jerks we collectively call Congress, they should all be utterly ashamed of themselves. Harry Reid is a wimp. The Senate majority “whip” (Dickless Durbin) couldn’t swat a fly. After months of wrangling, the bought-and-paid-for in the Senate have destroyed current hopes of a true reform of health care and have delivered the American public into the hands of the insurance and pharmaceutical industries. Against a proven majority, the Republinuts have won!

President Obama should long ago have made it clear he will not sign a health-care bill that does not included a “robust” public option. He should do so immediately, even though it is probably too late.

The list of visages on the TV that make me want to vomit has grown very large in recent days. It began with George Bush, whose appearance always made me switch channels lest I blow chunks on the carpet. He’s now been joined by John “Beaner” and Mitch McConnell, both right up there with Sarah “Pailin” and turn-coat Joe Lieberman. Especially Joe Lieberman, raking in millions to deliver health-care to the “industry”. What a jerk!

Here’s my opinion of the whole friggin lot of politicians in Washington, who with almost no exceptions are willing to sell the population down the river to save their own fat perks.

Our politicians aren’t worth even this much…

/rant mode OFF

. . . except the line here should be “the rockets big bang”. The VC got close enough to be able to lob mortars into the city center, and did so, beginning May 1. It became so routine, I did not even write home about it until it had been going on five days. I figured if a mortar hit my apartment, I was done-for, and only a direct hit was likely to carry me off. The closest one to land near me was about a city block away. These usually did so little damage, I often could not figure out where they had struck.

Monday,6 May 1968

Dear Everyone again~

After writing my letter yesterday, I took a shower and a nap, then went to mail the letters and meet a friend I’d seen earlier and made plans for dinner with. (Sorry about that sentence!) It was about five to seven when I went out, and when I got across the street to the Rex I found a sign announcing new curfew hours of 1900 to 0700. That shot the dinner engagement, leaving only time to drop by the friend’s house (to find that he’d gotten the news on the radio) and get back to my apartment. So I ate out of cans here, twiddled my thumbs, wrote a few letters, etc, read, and finally turned in early. Of course, the change in curfew hours goofed up the Long Binh bus schedule. Apparently it arrived about its usual time, just before 7AM, although where it went I’m not sure, since Pasteur St. was at that time still blocked off. I went to the Rex for breakfast, meeting one other person from LB there, and together we investigated the Military Bus situation (there is usually one going to LB), but so far today only emergency runs by the Mil Buses have been observed, hence I didn’t get there.

Have stayed pretty close to home today. There have been three major engagements with VC in Saigon today, in sections of town known as Go Vap, another near Tan Son Nhut, and another in the general area of the Phu Tho race track. Late today there was a bombing-straffing raid there: it looks as though maybe it’s been decided to get the VC out of there for once and for all, as it has been a stronghold for them ever since Tet. Their HQ is a revered Pagoda they comandeered, and ARVN has been reluctant to destroy it. If my direction sense is correct, the action I saw there today would leave little of the Pagoda standing, but my vantage point here is much poorer than when I was living nearer to Cho Lon.

Shortly, I shall wander down Tu Do Street to the only newsstand that ever seems to have the Nat’l Geographic: they said it may be here today (the April issue). Then I shall take supper at the Rex and come back home for the evening. What tomorrow will bring in the way of transportation I don’t know. I DO know that Workmen’s Comp does not cover people who get injured or killed when out of quarters during a curfew period, hence I WILL not leave before seven, regardless of what time the bus leaves. There being absolutely no communication between Long Binh and the buses we ride, this sort of timing problem occurs frequently, so no one worries about it.   ////   I’ll write more later, or tomorrow.   ////   Later, after supper: Looks like I may be stuck here a while, though it’s hard to tell. As the enclosed clips show, an area that I normally pass through every day was the scene of considerable activity yesterday, and again today: that’s the area along Phan-thanh-Gian just short of the first bridge on the Xa Lo Bien Hoa. Traffic, I understand, is limited to military vehicles. I shall make an attempt to go to LB tomorrow, if only to get mail, but may not get through. Not much there for me to do anyhow, so I don’t really worry much about it. It is now past 7, curfew is on, and only mil vehicles are on the streets. There still is a fight going on near Phu Tho, and it is likely to go on all night. We can expect more rocket and mortar attacks, I suspect, but these usually don’t come until the small morning hours. Will add to this in the morning, before I mail it.   ////   Later: about 8:30, and all quiet. A storm, complete with electricity and rain has come and is about over. It seems so strange to sit in my front window with nothing on more than my shorts watching a driving rain: I’m so used to rain being accompanied by cold! It must be about 80° F now, and of course it is humid, but in no way really uncomfortable. One can get drenched by these rains, and be dry an hour later, without ever having been really uncomfortable. What a welcome change from the typical SF cold rains! Below me I hear the piano strains of Bach’s Invention No. 12 (if I recall correctly): the barber in the shop below is not a half-bad pianist, and though I have not made her acquaintance yet, I shall.

All for now,
Bruce

The National Assembly Building took a direct hit during the rocketing of Saigon. The sentry in his little box was not enough to ward off the rockets!

________________________

Tuesday, 7 May 1968

Dear folks~

About 9:30 PM last night, just as I was drifting off to sleep, there was a terrific bang nearby. I got up, but could see nothing, so went back to bed and slept well until about 4AM, when the noise of a considerable battle in the direction of Cho Lon woke me up. I’m still not sure what all was going on, but it was quite a battle, and was still going on as late as 8 AM. The explosion last night turned out to have been a rocket which landed precisely in the middle of Nguyen-Hue, about two long blocks (but around the corner) from me. I surveyed the scene this AM: three autos were totally demolished (one burned), about six others heavily damaged, and eight or ten others damaged somewhat. Several windows in buildings on the West side of the street were blown in as well. Apparently, no one was injured, but it made quite a mess. Since breakfast this morning, three similar rocket-blasts have been heard fairly near by, but I haven’t ventured out to see where. I did see the LB bus on its usual route, about 7:40, but they didn’t happen to see me, and I was in no particular mood to  go to LB anyhow. Looks as though I should be able to make it tomorrow, though, when I shall be able to get these letters off; at the moment I am out of stamps, which I cannot get here in town anywhere that I know of, and I’m also low on paper, though I can pick that up in the “Nguyen-Hue PX” (the local euphemism for the black market street vendors).

Radio reports of last night’s activities in Cho Lon are sketchy at best. I probably will never know what happened. My contact with the bamboo telegraph is temporarily broken as my number-one friend is out of town for three days. All I could learn yesterday was that there were boo coo VC in Cho Lon, which is hardly news; many of them were said to be women.

So, it is one more dull day here in Saigon with little to do. The chap I was to have had dinner with Sunday evening could not get out to CMO yesterday at all, and there was considerable question this AM when I saw him waiting for the bus, as to whether it would be able to get through today. I haven’t seen him since I finished breakfast, so maybe they were passed [through] after all. Will add to this if anything eventful happens today, otherwise will mail it tomorrow at LB.

Luv again~
Bruce

________________________

Long Binh, Wednesday AM, 8 May, 1968

Well, we got through on the bus this AM—all six of us who ventured out, that is.

The Phan-thanh-Gian bridge, while damaged as you see in accompanying picture, is still passable, using the left lane only. Traffic was very light, except for an in-bound convoy that was miles long.

Yesterday, a large area just across the Saigon Canal from Tran-Hung-Dao Blvd., about a mile and a half from where I am, was intensely fired-upon by US helicopter gun-ships and other aircraft. The area around Phu Tho race track was similarly worked over, as were scattered parts of Cho Lon. All afternoon I watched the action from the top of the Rex. Pockets of VG infiltrators were trapped in the area near me, and considering the beating the area received, I doubt if many got out alive.

The night was reasonably quiet; about 4 [AM] a few rockets landed in the general down-town area, though none as close to me as the previous night. Then about 5:30 (I was in the bathroom at the time) there was a TREMENDOUS explosion very close-by which really startled me because of its suddenness. After a few minutes I went out on the porch to find that we were amidst another electrical storm, and the explosion had only been a close lightning strike! Whew! (Or, as Snubs would have said, “Now, what do you know about that?”)

So it goes. The offensive is presumed to be over except for clean-up, though of course no one really knows for sure!

Luv to all,
Bruce

______________________

Here I wrote a lengthy letter and sent it to a long list of friends who had not been on the regular distribution list. So, this one may be a bit repetitious.

Wednesday, 8 May 1968 2000h

To all~

I have just finished watching, for more than an hour, one of the most spectacular electrical storms I’ve ever witnessed. Throughout that time—and indeed, still, as I write, the various flashes came more freouently than 1 per second! The display was fairly distant, so not much thunder was to be heard, but what beautiful pyrotechnics!

The arrival of the monsoons (mua mua) came much more rapidly than I expected. The first storm I actually got caught in was here in Saigon two weeks ago, when I went out to do a bit of shopping at the PX. Several inches of rain fell in the space of a couple of hours, resulting in much localised flooding and many stalled vehicles. Yet, it was over as suddenly as it began, and within an hour or so the streets were almost dry again.

Needless to say, there has been much more to see than electrical storms here in Vietnam. Yesterday, for instance, I watched from the top of one of the taller buildings (6 stories!) as US helicopter gunships “worked-over” and area about a mile and a half away; the scene took me back, of course to the Tet offensive days, just after I arrived, for I had watched similar scenes then, too.

You will probably have read of the current offensive by the time this letter reaches you. It seems to be about over, but another 25000 people are homeless (not that “home” was much to start with). Ironically, there is a great tendency for the Vietnamese to blame this situation on us: the reasoning goes that if President Johnson had not limited the bombing, the North could not have re-infiltrated the South so quickly following their setbacks in the Tet offensive. The tragedy of our ever having gotten mixed up in this part of the world really is that we are damned if we do and damned if we don’t—and this frustrating position stems, I believe from a fundamental flaw in our approach.

There can be no doubt that the ideals we espouse and try to practice at times sound good, and may even impress some well-educated and thinking people. It is, for instance, very magnanimous of us not to bomb Hanoi, in the interests of “humanitarianism”. Yet, we are dealing with an enemy who has no qualms about using all its strength against Saigon, and has no compunctions whatever over murdering non-combatants (wives, children, reporters, foreign attaches, and even medical personnel: in this last drive, the third Field Hospital near Tan Son Nhut was attacked unsuccessfully). Whether humanitarianism is being served, in the long run, will only become clear when the fate of the thousands of infiltrators and tons of materiel that have moved into SVN since the change in bombing raids has been settled—and when the last of those who have to defend the South from this attack have been laid to rest.

I often wonder where these humanitarian drives of ours were back in the days of saturation-bombing raids during WWII: I’m not far off when I recall figures like 80,000 people killed in Dresden in one night, and far larger numbers in Hiroshima and Nagasaki somewhat later. In retrospect, the claim of humanitarianism has often been made for the latter, in that the war was essentially ended because of those staggering losses. The feeling is building up here that the same reasoning should apply in Vietnam, and that a quick, staggering blow to Hanoi-Haiphong complex might be just what is needed to place a new perspective on the “peace talks” presumably about to begin in Paris. It is pretty clear that Hanoi is using this same reasoning by showing its strength right now.

Our involvement in this war has consistently been viewed through lenses curiously tinted with a mixture of false optimism and sheer underestimation of the determination of the enemy. The origin of this tint can easily be traced directly back to the consistently violated (by both sides) Geneva Convention, 1954. Somehow, from this vantage point, I cannot see how we could have more consistently acted in ways calculated to drive Ho Chi Minh away from our way of thinking and directly into the hands of the Communists, who are, after all, the only others to whom he could possibly turn. In 1954, Ho was the rightful heir to control of all Vietnam, and most experts agree that he would have been elected unquestionably. Our paranoid fear of Communism can be the only reason for our refusal to allow this election to take place: without that paranoia blinding us, it seems to me that we might well have seen a united Vietnam long ago, acting together with its neighbors to resist any onslaughts the Chinese might take a notion to make: the Chinese are, after all, the traditional enemies of the entire “Indo-chinese complex of nations. Our initial mistake, long since compounded over and again, quite possibly irrevocably now, was in not uniting Vietnam under Ho and helping to guide it into alliance with Cambodia, Laos and Thailand into a bulwark against expansionism in China.

If one accepts this assessment of the current situation, the next question, of course, is: what do we do now? Do we dare to pronose in Paris to rectify the mistake, unify Vietnam, depose our puppet Saigon government in favor of the long-delayed general elections (which Ho Chi Minh could quite possibly still win) and show a genuine willingness to bolster the entire country against China? Or shall we content ourselves with another “solution” like Korea, where no real solution yet exists, and indeed, a state of war, technically, still hangs over that country? Or shall we show our brute strength by obliterating Hanoi and taking over the whole country by force, thereby fueling the “Yankee Imperialism” fire that already rages over much of the world?

Well, it is a dilemma we have got ourselves into, and I for one would like to see us get out of it in the first way I’ve suggested above; yet the history of this conflict would hardly let one dare hope for a solution that is basically honorable and certainly within the realm of possibility. To succeed at this would require a degree of diplomatic sophistication hardly evidenced in prior diplomacy; it would require a certain amount of “eating crow” that our Ministers of State are unaccustomed to in their diet. And, most importantly, I think, it would require that we—at last—should begin guiding our foreign policy by some of the same ideals we espouse, instead of by very shortsighted expediency.

On the personal side: I am well. The warm weather agrees with me. I have succeeded in making some good friends among the Vietnamese people, whom I find, for the most part, delightful, humorous, and unfailingly polite and respectful, a group of oualities notably lacking among the American civilians here. While I work at Long Binh, 10km out of town on the Bien Hoa Hiway (1A), and could arrange billeting there, I prefer to commute and live in Saigon primarily to be able to leave behind the boobs I have to work with all day. For the most part, they are a group I would not ordinarily associate with under the worst of circumstances, so I feel better leaving them to their drinking and wenching while I try to get some ideas of what it is like to be Vietnamese in Vietnam. This tends to be a slow process, of course, complicated by the unfamiliar language. Yet there is a reciprocal interest in getting to know an American in circumstances other than horizontal. I’m picking up the language little by little, and vice versa. What with curfews and the uncertainties of day to day living, the process is painfully interrupted regularly!

Saigon itself, though it shows evidence of having once been a beautiful city, is now a pretty bleak place: colorful at times, but not always pleasant. Many of the so-called essential services (water, garbage collection, sanitation, beautification) are consistently neglected mostly because of a sheer lack of manpower and money. The economy is badly inflated, though there are signs that this trend is slowing down and may soon reverse itself. And of course, the city is hopelessly overcrowded—even without the roughly 1/8 of a million refugees from the Tet and current offensives. It is this overcrowding, that enables the VC to infiltrate the city so easily, and to move tons of weapons and explosives into the city with comparative ease. The standard of living for many thousands is piteously low, yet outright starvation is quite possibly less prevalent than in america—in part because of our huge giveaways, in part because of our incredible stupidity in allowing thievery on a grand scale to go unnoticed, and partly because SVN is rich in agricultural potential.

For those of you who may have been in Saigon, the stately trees lining Dai Lo Le-Loi, Duong Cong-Ly, Duong Pasteur and Dai Lo Tu-Do have all been removed in order to allow for re-allignment and widening of these boulevards and streets. Although Tu-Do is often referred to in the US press as a honky-tonk street, it has far less the appearance of same than many real honky-tonk streets in nearly any US city of comparable size (over 3 million, now!). Native crafts are abundant and oriental, of course, though, Americanization can be seen creeping in here and there (mass production techniques, for instance; so-called carvings that are really molded composition, and so forth). Imports from Japan are numerous, as well as from Hong Kong: surprisingly little from Thailand or Cambodia is available here. The inevitable street-vendors (indigenous in the orient) are everywhere, though the wares tend to be US goods which find their way by devious routes from the PXs. There is excellent Vietnamese (and some French) food available, although the curious concoctions available at the numerous street-stand operations are unwholesome in the extreme, no matter how tempting some are in appearance!

This letter, soon to be concluded, constitutes the first (belated) of the occasional reports I offered to send in my farewell letter of January 23rd. To chronicle all the events since then would be dull end unrewarding: I hope that I have managed to sum up the high points, and give you my version of how it is here. I hope this letter finds you all well, as am I, and in good spirits, as am I, generally, if not actually optimistic. I appreciate the notes you sent responding to my farewell, and promise to keep in touch frequently: let ine hear from you from time to time as well!

Fondly~
Bruce

I have to apologize for the lack of photos in the blog so far: I did not carry a camera when working in Saigon, so I have very few images. Once I departed for Cambodia, I took more pictures.

A WORD ABOUT FORMATTING

I am transcribing my letters from longhand, exactly as written. It seems I was enamored of the mdash in those days: I used it far too often! After a while, I was able to obtain a typewriter, and these letters I should be able to reduce using OCR. We shall see…

Bear in mind, while reading the next letters, that I had been in Vietnam all of 18 days, and was beginning to get my eyes open!

Thursday, 15 February 68

Dear everybody –

Two letters, both mailed on the 10th, arrived today from home. I think improvement in delivery will be observed when commercial flights into Saigon are resumed The only way in (except military) is still Air Vietnam from HK or Bangkok. Pan Am has flown in a few charters, but no scheduled flights yet. Apparently, mail is going out on a better schedule; this is bound to lead to confusion and crossing of letters en-route, but so it goes.

I am well, and by no means hungry. Except for my first experience with “Ho Chi Minh’s Revenge” (the local euphemism for “Montezuma’s Revenge” in Mexico)—probably brought on by food but possibly encouraged by Primaquine (malaria pills)—there is little news. Vietnamese curfews have been relaxed somewhat again, a good sign.

The clippings and articles are much appreciated and I’ve been passing them around. Oddly, I liked W. Lipman’s article concerning his contention that Johnson and Wilson have failed to observe the meanings in power-shifts in Asia. The LA Times article “perspective” has only one debatable issue—re the declaration of martial law, which they see as smashing the “constitutional facade” built after the Buddhist revolt. This is unfair, from the present vantage point—only time will tell whether or not the “facade” is restored along with the return to normalcy. A coordinated attack (by outside force) in any part of the US would almost certainly be met with the same response, as was, for example, Hawaii following Pearl Harbor.

There is really little to distinguish calling out the Nat’l Guard to cope with internal disorders, or declaring Martial Law in the case of external attacks. Such times require prompt decisions—even if they later turn out to be the wrong ones—and simply cannot wait for a debate by a National Assembly. Even in the recent [USS] Pueblo fiasco, the decision on retaliation or negotiation was made by one man, regardless of what sort of “constitutionality” or other terms it (later) becomes couched in . . .

And Peter Arnat, who probably sat out the attack in his suite at the Caravelle [Hotel in Saigon], speaks of “man-high mountains of garbage in front of the BOQs”—implying falsely that the garbage accumulated only there: and the “man” to whom he broadly refers must have been (like himself in all probability) prostrate with “Beer 33″. The Vietnamese men are, indeed, small in stature, but the least of them—vertical—stands well above any garbage piles I’ve seen (though he would doubtless be entirely lost in the piles in New York or Memphis. . .

For that matter, on a pound-for-pound basis, the stamina of the Vietnamese (whatever their political persuasion) has to be admired, for it far outstrips our own. A larger-than-average VN man, for instance weighs in at around 120 lbs. One sees commonly pedicabs (operated by one man) carrying whole families, not to mention articles of furniture, malfunctioning motor-bikes, large potted trees, and such manner of things—and all accomplished for wages that amount to less than a pittance. . .

The women, in general a bit smaller than the men, are, when under 30-35 years old, amazingly beautiful and congenitally feminine in intriguingly subtle ways. The national garb, called an Ao-Dai, (usually seen in slightly modernized version—i.e., without the closed, high-neck collar—introduced by Madame Nhu) adds marvelously to the effect. The women age very quickly—seemingly almost over night; one never see an aging woman, only young ones or old ones. Some of the old women have their own grace and charm, most notably in their calmness and wisdom. . .

Now, with american civilians here, it is another story altogether. I speak mostly of men, because there are very few american women here. All but a very few are here

Beer 33

primarily for the money; second for the women & booze—both of which are much more readily available than in the states; thirdly (in many cases) to get away from family or other obligations; and last and least, to work. PA&E’s management (I don’t doubt that other companies are the same) is composed of a boneyard of retired military people, few of whom have any apparent abilities beyond boozing and girl-chasing, at which they apparently excel. Earlier I mentioned the local beer—”33″ (Ba-moui-ba, usually pronounced incorrectly as “bammyba”). It’s facetiously referred to as “half formaldehyde and half embalming-fluid”. It’s not a great deal stronger (in alcohol) than US beer, but the only beer I ever tasted that was worse was English “Bitters”. For myself, I drank half a bottle-ful, sent the label home for a souvenir, and will never touch another one! Like anything else, one can acquire a taste for it—it’s not unusual to see some nut here put away a dozen bottles in an evening’s time—but why to bother with doing so is a great puzzle to me, bad as the stuff is! And hard liquor—US brands—without all the domestic taxes, are incredibly cheap, and hence sell extremely well. The VNese drink very little, if at all, and never drink 33!

I  sent home the wrapper from a packet of toilet paper. I wonder at the significance of the fact that it is one of the few items one see still labelled in French. . .

In fact, a gov’t decree forbids any signs in any language except Vietnamese. One sees a few—many of course on US reservations—but around Saigon proper, very few. About the only common one is “WASH CAR” along the Long Binh-Bien Hoa highway. The entire area is “off limits” to US civs & mil pers, which leads one to suspect—accurately—that the sign means something altogether else than what it says. . . (They also do wash cars, incidentally!)

It’s now 10:30 pm—ooops! 2230—and time for bed. I’m feeling better now. The distant booms of artillery to which one becomes rapidly accustomed here have begun, and can be expected to last throughout the night as usual.Tomorrow arrives earlier than one wishes. So – love to all – hope you’re well and not too worried about me: I plan to enjoy this experience, and so far have not for a single moment regretted coming over.

Love –
Bruce

That’s a modern bottle of Ba Moui Ba (which simply means “thirty-three” in Vietnamese), but the label is pretty much as it was in 1968. I’m told the beer has improved vastly: I certainly hope so!

So, how, after only 18 days in country, could I have discovered the sorts of things described in the letter above?  It turned out there were not a few people I came into contact with, PA&E folks and others, who were utterly disillusioned by the situation, and had no qualms about saying so: in these letters I am largely parroting them. Despite their misgivings, though, they were still in Vietnam! The reason for that, of course, was money. The eighteen-month rule for tax-free status almost guaranteed that guys who signed up for 18 months (as I did) would stay: they had nowhere else to go except home, which would negate their tax-free status.

Continuing:

Saturday, 17 February 68

Dear Folks~

Your note and clippings of Feb. 13 arrived today. Only four days, so I guess delivery is improving. The clippings are very interesting—most especially John Randolph’s one on Saigon as a “Sin City” ready for a knifing.

From what I’ve seen so far, I’m willing to bet that if the VC had not attacked, that article would never have been written. Yet everything he says of Saigon (and much more he didn’t say) is entirely true, VC notwithstanding.

It is clear to me that one of our biggest  mistakes in this “effort” has been to create the opportunity for the existence of companies like PA&E, RMK-BRJ,  and the various others who bring in the U.S. civilians. I cannot believe that any of the work we or others are doing could not be done through normal military channels just as effectively (if not more so), and at far less cost. The question boils down, of course, to the reasoning behind the existence of contractors to the military in a place such as this.

Certainly, the arrangement is not expedient, liaison between the military and the contractor’s employees gets to be a problem at times—frequently a bottleneck. The facilities constructed, operated or maintained by civilian firms are probably no better than the military could do for itself. There must be some other reason for the existence of our companies—and that reason is really very apparent here.

The U.S. civilian population here serves mainly as a channel for pumping money (US $) into the economy, in the mistaken belief that this will in some way benefit the Vietnamese. Americans being what they are, however, (cf. previous letter) the results aren’t as predicted (by economists, anyhow).

There are about 11,000 U.S. civilians here. They all have all the privileges of the military, can use most military recreation facilities and so forth. The only real distinguishing features between the civilians and military are 1) no uniform 2) higher pay 3) do not live in military quarters (some exceptions).

The single most prevalent local institution that figures into the economic situation is “the shack job”. Anything from 80.00 to 120.00 [dollars] a month buys the services of a mistress. There is nothing clandestine about it; the PA&E Asst to Chief of [redacted], who lives in this hotel, has his “wife” with him—a very charming Cambodian lady. While the “shack” is officially grounds for terminating, it is used only when they want to get rid of someone and can’t get anything else against him.

Now, one’s mistress is almost always not one’s maid. That’s a separate matter, though most maids only take care of one or two customers. They do all the laundry (for both), cleaning, bed-making, etc., for a monthly fee. So there’s another 50-75.00 per month going into the economy. Both the maid and the mistress, incidentally, pay VN income tax at a rate of about 40%. So does the hotel or apt-house owner; rents are running now 150-250.00 per month depending on location & conveniences.

There are other curiosities, though. For instance, it is commonplace for both military and civilians to get PX items to give their girl-friends and/or mistresses as gifts; this is perfectly legal. The most common items are cigarettes, beer and liquor. Now, the receiver rarely consumes these items, but sells them instead. (This is usually not taxable, because it is untraceable). Hence, a fellow who pays the equivalent of $1.00 or 2.00 for drinks in local bars is often paying for the very same liquor he bought for $1.00 or 2.00 for the whole bottle! The same for the other items mentioned.

Well—the whole business goes on and on. It’s all here. In effect, by allowing the expatriates to create here what they feel is some sort of utopia (more often euphoria!) there is created a channel for dumping thousands of dollars per day into the economy. The evidence of it is everywhere, but as I’ve previously mentioned even that which gets in by this route fails for the most part to filter down to the indigenous poor; and the inevitable inflation in this system really hurts them the most. One can really believe they will inherit the earth. . .

With great justification, many Vietnamese come to look on us as Santa Clauses. Every now and then a VC turns up (usually dead) who was employed by a U.S. company! Regardless of their political persuasion, every possible ruse to part U.S. civilians (& military) from their money or possessions is used, from outright thievery & trickery right on up. It’s become a high art—and great sport—here, the philosophy being, of course, that with everything to gain and nothing to lose, why not?

Well—why not, indeed? We set ourselves up to be taken, so we certainly can’t complain when we are. But on a different tack, is this really the way to win friends and influence people? Can it be safely said that these policies instill any degree of patriotism among the populace? Any degree of sympathy for “democratic processes”? Or for that matter, any degree of real freedom—the sort we espouse so strongly? I think not—and I think events in the past few weeks have shown it conclusively. If anything, the general populace tends to feel we failed to protect them, and/or that our presence here caused the assaults in the first place.

Another curiosity is the policy of non-aggression. South Vietnam has no guerillas in North Vietnam. It has, in fact, precious few troops anywhere near the DMZ. Holding that part of the country, and bombing near Hanoi is strictly our business. But down here, we never engage the enemy—we wait until he engages us. Today as we left Long Binh around 1 O’clock, we were massing a line of tanks along the LB perimeter; a hundred or so VC were actually visible setting up some positions a half-mile away from the road. Similarly, the road from Long Binh on out to Bien Hoa complex was “red” all day – i.e., closed to all but emergency traffic because of VC activity in the fields that were formerly jungle but now have been burned off, nearby. For a while, a bunch of them were out there digging a trench WITH A TRENCHING MACHINE (in broad daylight), and all we could do was watch. A single mortar well placed would have stopped it cold—but that is “aggressive”, so we have to wait and wait and wait—and when they open fire, we can go to work. I make no claim to be any kind of military strategist, but the situation just doesn’t make sense to me . . .

One reads in the States, incidentally, that the Black Market has been wiped out in Saigon. Of course, nothing could be farther from the truth. What has happened, fairly recently, is to close up the channels by which money made on the black market could be sent out of the country—obviously this goes counter to the plans of getting it into the country in the first place. But (discretely, of course!) one can play the black market all he wants as long as he spends it all here—all it does is stretch one’s dollars a little farther in terms of goods & services bought. Here again—though BM operations are grounds for termination, a rather high PA&E official told me himself where to get the best rates on converting “green” (U.S. $) into piastres. The official rate is $1=118$. The unofficial rate hovers around $1=170$ (transposition of the $ sign designates US Dollars or piastres [piastre = dong; piastre was a holdover from the French].

I’m happy to report the dispensary had just what I needed for the minor gastrointestinal disorder that kept me busy for a day or so. It’s one of the occupational hazards one encounters here.

Will do some looking for an apt., and may add to this tomorrow.

Sunday PM, 18 Feb

Last night was a bit noisy. The long-expected “third offensive” apparently was mounted, somewhat haphazardly it turns out. Tan Son Nhut was hit again, and a number of delta towns were struck by mortars, but no follow-up ground action ensued. Nevertheless, from 3 this AM on our sleep was frequently interrupted by very loud blasts from various directions.

Went down-town this AM—things are picking up, and a number of stores were open. Went out to the main PX in (Cho Lon) and picked up a few minor items needed—and found out where it is located. Looked at a couple of apts in the AM—not much good came of it though. Most of them were too far from the bus-line to be suitable. But I’m in no particular hurry—and with the raft of resignations from PA&E (and other companies) resulting from recent action, there ought to be some good places on the market soon. Napped in the afternoon—catching up on sleep lost (or at least interrupted) this early AM. Had a pleasant dinner with a congenial group here this PM, and am now about to turn in with the Asian ed’n Time & Newsweek—which should answer your questions re those periodicals in last letter.

How about a subscription to Scientific American for my B-day? That will solve the problems of checks going around the world several times—and it’s the one magazine I haven’t seen hide nor hair of since I got here.

So, another week begins –

Love to all–
Bruce

We’ve been reading a lot lately about the foul-ups by the civilian contractors in Iraq: we learned nothing whatsoever from the experience in Vietnam! I later worked in several other nations where, though there was no war, there were a lot of U. S. expats whose primary purpose was to feed money into the local economy at a low enough level that less of it could be skimmed by the government (as opposed to funneling it through the government directly, where almost none of it trickled down to people who needed it).

ANOTHER SIDE OF THE STORY

Many years later, I wrote one of my “feelthy storiez” that incorporated some of my experience in Vietnam. Here is the relevant excerpt (from Back to Heartbreak Motel):

“Seeing that diminutive jockey sent me back to Vietnam once again. Viets are small people, and I thought the boys were especially cute. In those days, the ubiquitous garb for youngsters up to puberty (and occasionally well beyond) was a pair of brief shorts, sometimes a tee-shirt, and clogs: rarely much else. For a leg man like myself, it was paradise!

“I had arrived there with a group of other “round-eyes” just before the famous Tet Offensive launched by the VC in 1968: while that raged, we were confined to a small fairly modern hotel away from the city center. I knew nothing about Vietnam, so latched on to an older man who was returning for his third tour of duty:  he knew the situation well, and explained that as long as we laid low, we were in little real danger. The VC were after much bigger fry. But, almost two weeks without sex was a problem for me, then in my prime, and the situation was made worse by one of the boys on the hotel staff, who got steadily sexier-looking as the duration of my sexual deprivation increased. It seemed to me the lad made more than the usual number of excuses to visit our room, and subtle glances convinced me his gaydar had registered me appropriately. With my mentor around most of the time, I could not approach the boy, but I resolved to do so as soon as the coast was clear.

“However, my first encounter with a local fellow occurred in the whore-house just a short distance from our hotel. Once we were able to move about,  C. A. introduced me to getting a “steam-job and a blow-bath”, as it was locally known. I discretely enquired if the house had a masseur: of course they did, yet another vestige of the french occupation, I suppose.

“My first encounter was a revelation: I had never had any kind of massage in my life, but the practice of bathing first (useful, given the hot climate) was particularly enjoyable for me. The masseur’s name was Hung: he was small, wiry and strong! Yet, his touch was gentle as he soaped me all over, then rinsed me with cool water. After drying me off, he put me on his table face-down and went to work. He really knew his stuff! I found his rubbing, pounding, and punching very relaxing. When he tapped me to turn over, he discretely placed a small towel over my private parts and went to work on the rest of me. Of course, when he got to my legs, particularly my thighs, the little towel rose up majestically; I’m sure he knew it would. His touch became lighter as he worked his hands up into my groin, played with my balls, and ran his fingers through my pubic hair. By this time, I had let my left arm drop over the side of the table so I could explore his bare legs, and as he began working with me under the towel, I slipped my hand into his shorts: he had a nice little boner, but my fingers had almost no pubic hair to run through. When Hung put one hand around my engorged prong, two weeks’ of  frustration—repeated visual stimulation by the young boys all around, but no contact—worked their magic! He jacked me with his right hand as he fondled my shriveled balls and whisked the towel away just as I  got off: my gawd, what a mess! I shot my wad over and over, flooding his delicate hand: he in turn came in my hand. It was glorious! After another wash, it was over.

“However, it was commercial: not very expensive, true, but done for profit, not for fun. I resolved to find some play-mates who might be as intrigued by me as I was with them. The boy, Nguyen, at the hotel was at the top of my list, but the place was so small and intimate I knew anything I might do with him would be known within minutes.

“As soon as things returned to normal after Tet, I sub-let an apartment near the city center. I engaged Nguyen to help me move a few sticks of furniture into the place, at the conclusion of which he seemed loathe to depart. The massive bed captured his imagination, and he had long since captured mine. Seated close, I stroked his glabrous thighs, which was all he needed to begin stroking my somewhat hairy arms. His hard-on pushed at his shorts, and within minutes we were both stripped bare and pawing madly at each other. He seemed as taken with my body-hair as I was with his lack of it, and he was not at all bashful about sucking my dick, as soon as I had tasted his. He had a small prick, but in perfect proportion to his size; on his pubes there was not much more than the suggestion of a bush, and there was not a trace of fat anywhere. When he came, I thought I might drown: he seemed able to shoot forever, though he eventually calmed down.

“For the remainder of my tour in Vietnam, Nguyen dropped in several times a week; we carried on the same way every time, but neither seemed to get tired of it. I became hooked on the Asian somatotype, and remain so to this day.”

This is a snapshot of the masseur mentioned in the excerpt above

Nguyen was younger, and much better looking!

That’s all for this page: the saga will continue as time permits.

June 17, 2009

Before continuing, I want to remind my readers (if any) of the name of this blog: “MYOB”, which stands for “Mind Your Own Business!”  Nowhere was this exhortation driven home to me more forcefully than in VietNam!

Saigon 1968 Street Scene

CONTINUING WITH LETTERS FROM VIETNAM

Looking back over these letters written 41 years ago, I am struck by my belief that we were safe in VietNam. In part, this was deliberate, trying to keep family from worrying about me. But it was also because I had CA’s council, and he knew far more about the country than I. For example, our compound on Phan-than-Gian street was large, and the hotel portion was behind a big old mansion: the hotel could not be seen from the street at all. The VC, CA said, weren’t looking for us in any case, and probably did not even know we were there.  Additionally, directly behind us was a garrison of Korean soldiers.

In addition to Americans, there were in VietNam soldiers from Korea, Australia, and New Zealand, and Filipinos who were non-combatants working mostly in hospitals. Of these, the Viet Cong  feared the Koreans most  because they had a policy of never taking prisoners: they ruthlessly shot anything that moved when on patrol. They rarely went on patrol, however, and spent most of their time running the bars and brothels in Saigon. They also controlled the PX, which meant they had first dibs on anything that came into the country destined for anyone who had access to the PX (which was almost everyone except the Vietnamese). CA explained that the VC would not even consider taking on the Koreans bivouacked behind us.

It is also worth noting that, having arrived on a Saturday, some of us got to our duty-stations on Sunday the 28th, others on Monday the 29th for initial briefing. I got to Long Binh on the 30th. But there were rumors that “something was up”, though no one had the faintest notion of the scale of of the offensive, which began officially on the 30th, the first day of the lunar new year. It was recognized that zillions of fire-crackers going off would make fine cover for gun-shots, so we were requested to stay put “until Tet was over”.

Another thing to mention by way of background is that folks at home probably had more up-to-date information on what was happening than we did — we who were right in the thick of it! Locally, all there was in english was Armed Forces Radio, and they told only what the brass and local government wanted told. Most of the time they played pop music, which seemed quite inappropriate. Once mail began to flow, I got clippings from my folks, weeks out of date, which described things I’d had no inkling of as they played out around me.

So, here goes with the next letter: unable to send it out, I simply continued it from day to day as events unfolded.

Tuesday, 30 January 1968
1st day, year of the monkey

Dear folks,

By the time you receive this letter, you’ll all have heard a lot of rumors about what is happening here in Saigon, Unfortunately, as of this writing, I can’t fill you in too much. We are under an unofficial curfew. Today in Saigon two american civilians were killed—under what circumstances we don’t know. Additionally, during a heavy attack on Qui Nhon, two PA&E employees were also killed, although they were—for unknown reasons—quite far from their installation.

As you know, the “truce” was officially ended this morning. For reasons known only to themselves, the VC launched numerous attacks on VN installations today; as I write I can hear distant heavy artillery, even above the incredibly numerous fire-crackers that are an integral part of the Tet celebration.

This Tet business makes our “safe and sane” fireworks into a laughing stock. So many fireworks have already been set off that the streets are literally deep in the red paper remains. I saw, for instance, whole packages of firecrackers strung together from the top of a three-story building down to the ground, waiting to be set off at the bottom. Each package is about 50 of the little crackers we’re accustomed to, and there must have been about 50 of these packages strung together!! There are also available fire-crackers about 3 inches long and an inch wide that pack quite a wallop—to say nothing of rockets, sparklers, etc. There may be a few evil people left after all this, but certainly no evil spirits!! Tet lasts until next Thursday night, so there are two more nights of this “siege” (which lasts far into the night) for us. Very few of the populace work during this period, so everything really slows down. We have no idea what other difficulties the next few days will hold . . .

I visited the site of my assignment today—Long Binh. PA&E installed some while back a “water laboratory” on the Long Binh post. Apparently, through mismanagement & other circumstances, it has been largely unable to perform any useful function. My job—presumably — will be to get it under way again. The “presumably” is in there because there are some political overtones in the situation that may come into play. This remains to be seen. . .

The next few days will be spent in final processing at the PA&E CMO [Contract Management Office] at Tan Son Nhut; following the completion of Tet, I’ll be able (on Sunday) to locate quarters which will be in Saigon, there being none on the base, which is OK because it is a pretty bleak place. It is, incidentally, an 85,000 acre installation, so you can imagine the size and complexity of it. The complexity of the administration of it staggers the mind, and the paperwork involved is overwhelming!! I’ve already filled out so much paperwork it would probably stretch from here to Long Binh (laid end to end), a distance of about 22km (12 miles, give or take).

Having re-read this epistle so far, I think I may have accidently given rise to some fear for my security. Please don’t be alarmed. The situation is very far from normal in any respect: the Tet celebration has no equivalent at home. During all this carrying-on the town is over-run by “white mice” (the local euphemism for Saigon local police; a very slightly derogatory allusion both to their diminutive stature and their “colorful” uniform). VC infiltrators generally are not aiming at us civilians, but the fire-crackers bit already described serves as excellent cover for sniping, in which innocent people may become involved if they place themselves in a position to become so: I shan’t do so.

Saigon is essentially regarded as a town under siege. The perimeter is lit with flares all night long, and everything is heavily patrolled, both by white mice as described, by VN security police, by US MPs, and others. Essentially, trouble comes only to those who go looking for it—and of course, there are some people so inclined.

Of course, some very well publicized incidents have occurred, and some more are bound to before all this comes to some sort of conclusion. From my present quarters I can see the burned out hulk of a hotel allegedly set afire by the VC; the ammo dump at Long Binh has been blown up twice (no injuries); the Brinks BOQ has been bombed; the town itself has been shelled from time to time. But still, the odds on my surviving for several years here are very excellent—especially as I am one given to the use of good common sense to a greater degree than many of the expatriates here. Furthermore, I’ve been very fortunate to be billeted so far with a gent who has spent a previous TD [Tour of Duty] of 4.5 years here—and I’ve been able to learn a great deal of the “ropes” through him. My personal safety on Saigon streets—when I do venture out—is virtually assured. Please don’t worry—I don’t!!

So, that’s the news from the “Paris of the Orient” right now —

Love to all,
Bruce

Note my reference to “surviving several years” in Saigon. American civilians working for PA&E (and other contractors) were generally on eighteen-month contracts, largely because in those days Americans who stayed out of the country for that length of time owed no income tax on their earnings. After my run-in with the IRS, the idea of avoiding taxes for several years was attractive, and at this point I was ready to re-up for a second stint if it became possible.

The letter continues:

Next day, Wednesday, 31 January 1968
Continued

Well—there’s nothing like being right in the middle of the action! The irony is that we know as little as anyone as to just what is actually going on. The first reports this morning on the storming of the [American] Embassy reported that it was taken by the VC and that it was re-taken by paratroopers landed on the roof who worked their way down floor by floor. Later reports conflict this, and say only that the VC held the compound for a while, but did not enter the building.

After completing last night’s letter I went to bed but slept only fitfully. I heard much of the distant action as well as some closer by. Tan Son Nhut AFB was temporarily entered by the VC, and sustained slight damage. Since PA&E’s CMO [Contract Management Office] is there, we might normally have been on hand. Today, we’ve been confined to quarters, however—there is no one at the CMO, and for all we know, there may not even be one left!!

Since we cannot venture out of our hotel, I couldn’t mail last night’s letter, & so decided to add to it instead.

Enemy positions about a mile from our hotel were strafed, rocketed and mortared this afternoon, setting off quite a fire. At least four other fires could be seen from here [by going up on the roof of the hotel]. The air is alive with US helicopters, keeping their eye on what little movement of the population has been allowed, and occasional gun-fire and mortar rounds can be heard from the general down-town Saigon area. Things are relatively quiet now, but I suspect tonight will be pretty active—and is likely to continue through Thursday night, when Tet ends. After that is anybody’s guess, but the feeling seems to be that things will quiet down again & the siege will lift. Just how soon we can return to our processing and assignments also remains to be seen.

9:30 PM

The above was written about 2:00 PM. Since then, our street has been completely cordoned off and all traffic has stopped. About an hour ago there were some shots fired, apparently because someone who moved failed to halt on demand.

Meanwhile, Tan Son Nhut AFB has been receiving heavy mortar fire from enemy emplacements in the Delta, and the New Port facilities, which were afire most of the afternoon, have been re-kindled. Long Binh is under siege, I’m told, but I cannot confirm this.

11:00 PM

Things are a little quieter; the heavy offensive against Tan Son Nhut appears to have been repulsed, but since no planes are going in or out, we assume the runway has been damaged heavily. Except for a helicopter that crashed on top of a nearby building earlier (no apparent casualties) we’ve observed no loss of planes.

Going to bed now with hopes of sleeping – more tomorrow.

Love,

Bruce

All 16 of us were holed up in the Loc Building, two to a room. I was bunked with CA, whose familiarity with the country I found most useful, even comforting. I was ready to “go with the flow”, as he recommended. Others in our group, despite receiving the same council from CA (we all ate dinner together) had different reactions, running the gamut from “ho hum” to “what the fuck is going on?” to “get us outa here!” I was the youngest of the group, there were several in their mid thirties, several approaching mid forties, and CA was the oldest, well past 55. Several chaps were attempting to phone the CMO almost every half hour, but there was no response. It was clear that some of the guys were afraid, but unwilling to show it.

Throughout these days, the hotel staff managed to feed us well and bring in a constant supply of Ba-mui-Ba beer. Beer “33″. It was horrible stuff, and I could not stomach it (not being much a beer drinker anyway). But regular drinkers managed to swill it down, with predictable results. Most of  our group, except CA and myself, were regular drinkers.

We discovered before too long that our group had been extremely lucky to have been billeted in the Loc Building: ordinarily, PA&E used the Tourist Hotel, right down town, which was a pretty awful place by then. It seems every war we start involves taking over at least one local hotel for purposes of housing Americans coming and going, for whatever reason. Travelers housed in-coming and out-going PA&E personnel, foreign correspondents and many others. More about the Travelers as my tale unfolds.

Again, unable to get mail out, I continued the letter begun on the 30th:

Next AM, Thursday 1 February, 1100 hrs

Remainder of the night was relatively quiet. This AM Pres. Thieu had declared Martial Law, and we are still confined to quarters. Some traffic was allowed past our hotel for a while, & much of it was carrying D & W (dead and wounded) from the area to the west [Cho-Lon] where we observed heavy strafing and rocket attacks. We will never know the extent of the casualties, but they obviously had to be heavy.

The 11:00 am news carried the first reports of last night’s heavy action we observed on the outskirts of town, but only sketchy descriptions. Tet ends officially at midnight tonight, and we hope things will calm don thereafter—there’s no guarantee of this, of course.

There’s a lot of wild speculation about the meaning behind the widespread coordinated attacks by the VC at this particular time. For one thing, it is almost a tradition that a lot of terrorist activity takes place during Tet, because it affords such excellent cover for it. Privately, I’m inclined to feel that the intensity of this year’s offensive is Ho’s [Ho Chi Minh] answer to our refusal to halt bombing raids in the North. The truth may never be known.

So here we sit, awaiting orders from the PA&E management on what happens next. The second-in-command side-kick to the Contract Manager lives here in the same building, so we’ll doubtless get the word as soon as anyone. Although there is no official reason why we can’t leave, there are at least a couple of dozen trigger-happy guards in the street—we still hear occasional weapons fire there (mostly warning shots)—who are a very strong deterrent, so far as I am concerned!! More later . . .

4:00 PM

You may—or may not—hear it referred to as “The siege of Saigon”, but that’s just what it is. An estimated 2000 VC are within the city, and no one knows how many outside it. Streets have been completely cleared all day except for mil. personnel & ambulances. From our particular vantage point (not a very good one) we can hear—but never see—street skirmishes in all directions. Several major fires erupted, one of which may have been the main PX—as of now we really don’t know. Six BOQs [Bachelor Officers Quarters] have been assaulted in one way or another; 2 VN police precinct stations last night were attacked.

Strangely, today has been quieter, though, than yesterday. The ARVN has been active today, with the “Free World Forces” (i.e., U.S.) very lightly deployed. This is certain to change with nightfall, as our more sophisticated equipment will take over, and I rather imagine tonight will be quite a show.   More later . . .

Next AM – February 2, Friday

The show I expected (locally) didn’t come off. The night was fairly quiet, with a heavy curfew enforced. We had ARVN soldiers in the building, watching for snipers from the roof-tops. A few mortar rounds fell fairly close (a couple of miles) and occasional street skirmishes were heard all night. The curfew applying to us is still in effect; it might be lifted at noon, but we doubt it.

I hope you aren’t too worried about me—except for boredom, there are no real threats here. I can’t get any mail out, so there’s no way to reassure you except to chronicle these events—dull as they are, really—and get this to a PO as soon as the curfew is lifted. The package I mailed ahead is waiting for me, along with any letters that may have gotten through—assuming that CMO HQ is still there!! We simply have NO news.

The local radio station—AFVN—is heavily censored by the local government. As soon as I can, I will get a short-wave set which will pick up VOA [Voice of America] from Manila, which gives much better coverage. But no one in the building has an all-wave set, so we sit here right in the thick of it with practically no idea of what is actually happening. By now, you at home probably know more about it than we do! Well—the orient has its own way of doing things!! More later…

10:30 AM

A “banana chopper” came by this AM to take away the helicopter that crashed day-before-yesterday on the building a few blocks away. It was a typical “ooops!” operation however. Instead of making a direct lift-off upwards, they dragged it off a bit sideways. Unfortunately, a broken-off  tail section was attached by a secondary sling, and that caught on the railing of the building that had fouled up the ‘copter in the first place; the result was they lost the whole thing down on to whatever was below. This may have been a street, but was probably low buildings. All we saw was a cloud of dust . . .

Not a half-hour later, two VC snipers were captured in the street in front of us after quite a bit of gun-play. There are now ARVN soldiers and white mice stationed atop our building and many others nearby. “How about that?” as Snubs would say. More later . . .

6:30 PM

A major pitched-battle 2 long blocks westward of us routed & killed quite a number of VC this afternoon, & touched off a fire that consumed a number of houses. Air action has been very limited, and sniper activity since this morning in our area is essentially non existent.

We have been entirely confined since Tuesday afternoon. Prior to that time, I’d made only two or three trips away from here—and hence have seen very little. Went to the McCarthy BOQ twice for meals—it’s right down town and is one which has since been attacked by VC.

Got over to the 5 Oceans BOQ [with CA] once for an excellent steak dinner; it has also seen some action since then. When I was out, before the 24 hr curfew was clamped on, there was less of an “armed camp” atmosphere than there is now. But all the streets are littered with concertina-wire now, and heavily armed ARVN and white mice are literally everywhere.

Amidst all this, Bougainvillea blooms in profusion, and in a variety of shades I’ve never seen: many are orange, rather than the brilliant magenta we usually see at home. Some sort of tropical tree with very lovely 5-petaled flowers is also to be found everywhere, and potted “mums” in all shades line every drive and walkway in the more prosperous sections of town.

I’ve had to stay indoors more today than yesterday because of a bit of facial sunburn I got then, which gets uncomfortable whenever sun befalls it again. But the weather has really been fine, and such a welcome change. Well, more tomorrow unless we can get to a PO tomorrow, which seems unlikely.

This letter was continued over several more days, and it will appear here on future pages. In the meantime, here are a few snapshots taken in Saigon soon after we managed to get “out and about”: I have no pictures taken during the Tet Offensive, since we were confined to barracks as it were.

Police confiscate a seller’s cart for some infraction (probably selling black-market items)

Saigon Police Load Confiscated Street Vendor’s Cart

A typical scene at the Saigon port. No deep-water vessels could get near, so everything came ashore in lighters.

Pandemonium at the Port. No doubt the folks there knew what was going on, but the general appearance was one of confusion.

Vegetable Sellers on the Street in Saigon.

More of the Tet Offensive and the part I played in it (which was nothing) will follow.

PeeYes: Anyone wondering about this line: “How about that?” as Snubs would say” in my letter can write me at [email protected] for an explanation.

July 18, 2009

As the late, great Anna Russell often said, “I’m not making this up, you know!” Shown below is a scan of one of the many pages of my letters from VietNam. My long-hand was better then than it is now, so I can actually read most of these as I transcribe them for your edification and entertainment.

One of the many pages of my letters from VietNam

Continuing my letters describing my first days in Saigon, during the Tet Offensive.

Saturday AM Feb 3, 1968

Still under curfew. The night was locally quiet, but the VC mortared the Cho-lon power sub-station but missed. Distant heavy artillery continued, and I understand this goes on at all times. The VC are slowly being cleaned up in town; there are still a few pockets of them left, and snipers are still around. The enclosed leaflets were dropped this morning: they tell the remaining VC how many of their comrades have bit the dust since the big push started. and what they can expect if they don’t turn themselves in.

The feeling of boredom setting in is strongly reinforced in some of us by helplessness. We are one block from the RC [Roman Catholic] hospital, where I’m sure we could do some useful work. But the oriental philosophy prevents this: the local people feel they have the situation under control, and do not want our assistance; in part this is because by accepting it they would be admitting the need for it. “Face” is all-important to orientals, and the ramifications this involves are hard for us to understand. Then too, there is a certain amount of anti-american feeling among the South Vietnamese, who reason that our presence is responsible for the current hardships, not to mention many civilian casualties. It is easy to overlook the hardships that they would almost certainly face if we were not here. While it is certainly true that our military presence is pretty obvious, the less obvious—but more important—impact on the local economy is quite easily observable. In many ways, the South Vietnamese never had it so good, despite  inflation, and despite the VC attacks. Many of the VC defections are prompted by the realization that they’re better off living off of us than fighting against us. Unquestionably, Ho Chi Minh is fighting an ideological war, for economically he would be far ahead to capitulate and let us spread our wealth throughout all Vietnam, rather than just in the south. I have not seen anything yet to alter my conviction that Vietnam should be united in accordance with the Geneva Convention of 1954, even if that means electing Ho as President, as it certainly would. But then, I really haven’t seen much of South VietNam, so this conviction could yet change. Well, more later…

7:30 PM

Things are returning to normal—whatever that is. The guards in the streets are more lax, and some small amount of traffic is beginning to flow. The big guns in the distance can be heard, but the occasional firing in the streets has very nearly stopped. Our hotel has run out of nearly everything, so many of us will doubtless try to get downtown tomorrow, and it seems almost certain we’ll be getting on with our work on Monday, when I will also be able to mail this letter. How soon you get it depends on various factors. Military aircraft and personnel flights are now operating from Tan Son Nhut, but commercial flights other than charter and freight aren’t yet back in operation. The mail should go out quickly—I do hope so, so you won’t be in suspense longer than necessary.

Well, more tomorrow, after (hopefully) a trip down-town to see what’s left.

Sunday PM, 4 February 1968

A group of us walked down-town today, but it was largely a futile effort. The curfew on the Vietnamese was lifted from 8 [am] to 2 pm, but it being Sunday nothing opened up anyhow. The BOQs were serving only stew—we suspect it was water-buffalo—and though the Brinks PX was open, the lines to get in were so long that we didn’t bother. Altogether a dull walk, but at least a change from the duller existence here. Another civilian (U.S.) curfew went into effect at 7:00 pm tonight, to last until 8 am tomorrow—this to continue indefinitely.

Tonight’s TV news reports 9 civilian U.S. killed in Saigon since 29 January. Rumors tonight have it that 3 PA&E people got it today; one of those allegedly killed was a man I met at Long Binh last Tuesday. But rumors are a dime a dozen here, and I won’t believe it until I hear it from a much more reliable source.

Sporadic incidents around town are still being reported. 2000 VC have been killed in Saigon since they infiltrated the night of the 29th Jan. Civilian (VN) casualties are heavy, but no count has been given. Estimates put the remaining VC in  Saigon at around 700; untold numbers surround the city as well. Refugees since 29 January coming into Saigon now number over 25,000; they are fleeing either from VC or from bombed out homes in the Delta. One of the popular tricks of the VC is to infiltrate a number of homes and slaughter the occupants; the remaining people surrounding, fearing their own safety, refuse to let the word out on the location of such an enclave. When the ARVN or police close in, the VC set fire to the area and when the local people flee, they [VC] go along unnoticed. The police can’t get them without killing numerous innocent people.

We have no idea whether we’ll go to work or get on with our processing tomorrow or not. Commercial operations at Tan Son Nhut have been resumed. Assuming they have the necessary buses and can arrange an escort, we probably will go to CMO—after all, we’re all on salary & accomplishing nothing here. But if buses and escorts are not available—and they are in short supply—we might not get back to it for a while.

In any event, I shall try every possible way to get this letter off tomorrow, hoping you may get it by Wed or Thursday. If I fail, all I can do is hang on to it, as before!  For now, then, off to bed —

Love to all
Bruce

Nine days into my stay at VietNam, and I haven’t done anything of use to anyone! Little did I know that seven months on, I could report very nearly the same thing! Note my optimism that if I got a letter “off” Monday, the folks would get it 2 or 3 days later: in actuality, most letters took closer to two weeks to reach the States.

Here I began a second letter.

2:00 pm, 5 February 1968

Dear Everybody ~

Despite our hopes of getting out again today, it has not come about. A representative of PA&E did come by this morning to see if we are still OK; he confirmed the rumor that 3 PA&E Entomologists were killed yesterday, but the circumstances are not yet known. All in all, the word is that 22 PA&E people have been killed all over Vietnam since 29 January.

Today there is no movement of VN or U.S. civilian personnel without armed guard; there being a lack of the latter, only essential services are being maintained. Garbage has been piling up in the streets (shades of New York!). Sporadic fighting still rages, some of it quite close to us here.

(Later)

As I wrote that last sentence, a whole lot of shooting erupted nearby. A bevy of VC have apparently been flushed out by a fire about one long block westward, and they’re being fired upon as they flee. A number of grenades have been heard. We have orders to stay altogether in-doors now, so somebody is getting worried about our getting hit. More later . . .

6:00 pm

Well, well! The action got a bit thick around here for a while this afternoon, and may get thicker before the night is over. Electricity has been off since shortly after noon, which means we’ll soon be out of water, and rations are getting quite short. PA&E is trying to arrange to have us evacuated, but they have a great shortage of help, vehicles and security guards, who are military, of course, and are pretty busy.

The PA&E man who came by this am took  my last letter out—I hope it gets through. As soon as I can I will cable, but being restricted as we are makes this impossible. More later . . .

6:00 pm, Tuesday, 6 February 68

Well—now I know something about psychological warfare, at least. The action reported on page 1 of this letter, yesterday, got to within a block of us. About 2 hours after it had died down, 2 americans arrived at our compound alleging they’d been driven out by advancing VC. Their no doubt greatly exaggerated estimate of the number involved was “at least 100″—and at this point, 5 people in our group panicked. A flurry of phone calls to PA&E CMO resulted in nothing, and by 11:00 pm someone had us surrounded by 2000 VC, with two ARVN battalions trying to fight their way on to [rescue] us, etc., etc., etc., ad infinitum, ad nauseam! The fact that there was absolute calm for miles around, so far as a good ear could judge, and the fact there was less shooting in the streets (almost none) than the night before made no difference. One stupid b—–d brought out a .45 revolver and packed it around—cocked—all night, supposedly protecting us (it is strictly verboten for U.S. civilians to carry weapons, and this nut is surely going to be shipped home because of it—good riddance). I was a lot more worried about this guy and his pistol that I was about the VC. He sat out on the street side balcony all night, a perfect sniper target, and generally raised enough Hell to keep us all pretty well awake most of the night.

February 7, 1968

So: all the telephoning and bitching finally resulted in our being evacuated mid-afternoon today. We’re now staying at the “Tourist Hotel”, which, compared with the facilities we had at the Loc building, is a dump. Latest military intelligence (not the most reliable) has it that Phan-thanh-Gian street (where we were) will get “a lot of action” tonight—but the bamboo telegraph says otherwise. The only saving feature of this hole is that is is closer to down-town, but otherwise has no apparent virtue.

I can get mail out better, from here, so I’ll probably mail this when I finish it. Please send all clippings you can about what’s supposed to be going on down here: the news black-out is very bad.

Unless I’m mistaken, it was Rudyard Kipling who wrote in one of his poems about what happens to he who “Hustles the East”.  His astuteness considerably pre-dates Eisenhower and others who warned of the dangers of an Asian land war!

It is now fairly clear at to what happened, here in Saigon, al least, in the current offensive. On the night of 29 January, about 2500 VC infiltrated the city in 2s & 3s from the surrounding delta areas. Their missions were well planned and generally involved taking and holding for 48 hours certain key points. This they managed fairly well to do. But their back-up teams were largely either cut off or were non-existent, and when food ran low, the VC began some skirmishes on their own to cover retreats. These still continue sporadically, so the curfews remain in effect and the lid is clamped on all movement from 1900 to 0800 every night. Apparently, the VC hoped they could spark a general uprising aimed at evicting the “Free World Forces” (i.e., U.S.) but their own atrocities largely thwarted their own attempt. The lowest figure for South Vietnamese dead in the fighting (not counting ARVN) is over 500, with 2-4000 wounded. This is probably a conservative figure.

It’s now anyone’s guess when the mop-up operations are sufficiently complete to allow of our complete processing and assignment. The CMO office, which was confused enough before all this began, is doubtless utter chaos now, so the last thing they want hanging around is a bunch of green processees. I’m inclined to doubt that anything significant will happen for most of us in the remainder of this week, and in my own case, it may be two weeks before the hiway to Long Binh is secure and buses re-established. C’est la guerre!

Love to all,
Bruce

The tourist Hotel was one of the most pestilential places I ever stayed in: I was amazed there were no bed-bugs. Once again CA and I were in the same room, but there was a 10KW generator-set right outside the window providing power for the building 24/7. It made a heck of a racket and smelled of diesel fuel. Even so, we were fortunate: most of our group wound up on the top floor which was just a barracks with rows of beds. The dude with the .45 undertook to clean it one afternoon, and forgot to unload it first, so managed to fire a ram-rod across the room, narrowly missing a fellow nearby. This chap was on the next plane out, contract torn up, assignment rescinded. The other unfortunate thing about the Tourist Hotel was  that it stood directly in the line of fire aimed at the Palace, and it was hit once or twice later on. But mainly, it was horribly run-down: about all that kept it alive was that infernal generator!

Pathetically, there was one older man there who was being sent home: according to gossip, he’d been on a bender for over two months, and I never saw him sober. A couple of days later two men were assigned to dry him out so he could fly, and one of them went with him to keep him from arriving home soused. We were told this failed, and he had to be poured off the plane back in Los Angeles.

I spent my 32nd birthday in this hell-hole, as mentioned in the next letter.

Just turned 32 Photo taken in the Loc Building, probably just after my birthday.

8 February 1968 (here!)

Dear Folks,

Well, today’s my 32nd birthday here—tomorrow at home—so I guess I’ll celebrate twice! We did get out to CMO today—it’s still there, but utter chaos—and managed to get letters off, buy stamps, change some money, and—miraculously—found my transfer papers to Long Binh!

Got the nicest possible birthday present from PA&E—a raise! And I haven’t done an hour’s useful work since I arrived. Somewhere along the way I was classified as GS-13 equivalent, which carries a base salary of $1100 per month instead of the $960 that I hired in at. The classification is retroactive to 25 January, so every day I’ve been here I’ve been on that salary. From what I’ve seen of the cost of living here in Saigon, I should be able to live comfortably on $350/month, and am going to do my best to sock away the remaining $1000 per month. (1100 + 250 living allowance = $1350/mo).

Things are slowly returning to “normal” but it’s obvious that it will take longer than anyone first thought. Latest G-2 (intelligence) places the number of VC in Saigon at about the same number as were here before the offensive began: this is normal, as there are generally thought to be about one battalion (1800) in Saigon at all times. Normally they are underground and indistinguishable from other LNs.

I must digress here to explain the ludicrous parlance the U.S. military has built up to describe the various peoples here:

1.  The native population is variously known as

First Country Nationals (FCN)

First State Nationals (FSN)

Local Nationals (LN)

or (least often) Vietnamese

2.  U. S. Civilians are

Second Country Nationals

Second State Nationals

or Civilians

3.  Koreans, Filipinos, Australians and so forth are

Third Country Nationals

etc.,

or (least often) Koreans, Filipinos, etc.

4.  U. S. Military are

US Military or MilPers

5.  Vietnamese soldiers are

ARVN (Army of the Republic of VietNam)

6.  All other Military are “Free World Forces”.

The FWF, of course, includes the US military in fact, but the  distinction is generally made  as above.

All this is purely ridiculous, of course, but that’s how it’s done and there is certainly nothing I can do about it!!

Presumably, I will go out to Long Binh tomorrow to begin work in earnest. We’ll see about that! I’m not yet certain whether they actually want to get the lab functioning, or whether they just want to dress it up a little and make it look like it’s functioning. I’m told they’ve hired—or at least requisitioned—a bacteriologist to work with me (I’m a Chemist, remember) but it’s anybody’s guess when he will arrive. The lab lacks the basic equipment to do either quantitative chemistry or bacteriology, so until we can solve the supply problem I’ll probably be sitting on my hands anyhow! As I’ve said before, c’est la guerre!!

Cheers to all,
Bruce

Worth mentioning here by way of background: PA&E was begun by one Thomas E. Spicknell, Retired Military, who had a lot of friends in the right places. Basically, he had a contract with the US Army to supply bodies (called personnel, of course) to do whatever the US Army wanted done that it didn’t want to bother doing itself. The contract was a “Cost +” contract: every expense that the Company could document was reimbursed with ten percent added. [I believe PA&E has “gone straight”, and now operates in many countries as a fairly legitimate engineering firm. But in VietNam, it was just a money-making scheme, and it made a lot of people quite rich. It is probably the model for the likes of Haliburton which operates in Iraq today.]

Essentially, every warm body PA&E could get into the country made money for the company on salary alone, and whatever items they needed to do their jobs—or for that matter, to exist—were imported and marked up as well. The system was rife with corruption, and many of the men (relatively few women) who came over were retired milpers just there to augment their retirement pay: it was understood they were not expected to do much useful work, and many did none at all.

Naturally, all these people lived off base, and most of them had Vietnamese girl-friends: a few married their women, but most did not. However, children were produced in some numbers. CA used to quip that for the next war, “we’d only have to send the uniforms.” The truth is that most of the half-breeds were later shunned by the Viets themselves: many were eventually re-patriated to the U.S. Only a very few were sent-for by their biological fathers.

Also by way of background, some discussion about money! Our salaries were paid directly to banks of our choice back in the States; our per-diem was paid locally in MPCs (Military Pay Certificates) or Local Currency (Vietnamese Dong). The Viets were not supposed to accept MPCs (although they did, since they had back-channel methods of redeeming them for Dong or for US Dollars). MPCs were really only useful at Military installations and the PX. Dong, of course, were universally accepted by the local populace for anything. US dollars, (referred to as “YouEss Green) though, were strictly forbidden, although of course there was a huge black market in them. Indeed, the black market was probably larger than the local economy! There was nothing that could not be had for a price, and anyone willing to pay in dollars was afforded the best rates. Many U.S. civilians would have dollars sent in by mail, which they would sell for MPCs, with which they would buy hooch and other items at the PX, then sell these items on the BM for Dong which they used to augment their fairly lavish off-base life-style. It was a mess, and now and then the Government would suddenly change the design of the MPCs in the hopes of catching-out speculators in them: but leaks always allowed the speculators to dump the old designs before they became worthless. It was a cat and mouse game the mouse always won!

Military Pay Certificates (MPCS

No MPCs were issued in denominations larger than one dollar: there were two reasons, one being that items at the PX and elsewhere were usually priced far below true value. The other reason was that the Vietnamese were not supposed to have these, so if they did, they would have to accumulate large piles of them to have any real value. It was not unusual to see someone carrying huge bundles of these!

All the costs of printing these and Dong were borne by the US Treasury, of course.

Dong were colorful: it was rare to find them in decent condition, however. Many of those I saved are still filthy dirty and look quite bad.

Vietnamese Dong

The per-diem we got was to be used for two purposes: to procure housing off-base, and to get money into the local economy. When I eventually took quarters in Saigon proper, the rent far exceeded my per-diem, so I was not able to save the $1000 per month I had hoped for, but I got close. Occasionally, I used Dong to entice the local boys, but usually they were sufficiently interested in me as a foreigner that money was not required.

I will continue my narrative on the next page, coming up soon.

February 10, 2009

If anyone has paid attention, I turned 73 two days ago. I don’t feel any different. But I fly tomorrow to Denver to help a friend celebrate his 80th: that will make me feel young again.

As for my last post about adverts, I realized it could be summed up easily: most advertisements make me want to avoid a product. Very few entice me to buy the product. They’re wasting their time!

This week I watched the movie, The History Boys on DVD from NetFlix. Excellent film, done so well the way the British do. If you have not seen this one, get it and enjoy!

So, another week will pass before I regale you with tales from my college days.

Next week: I go to college. Stay tuned,

email: [email protected]

Love to hear from all, good bad or indifferent.

BANGKOK to HUA HIN

South Thailand Bangkok to Hua Hin

7 October 1968

Dear all~

After tracking down the pawn-shop where my camera was lodged & getting it out of hock—sans the film that had been in it, which I had not begun to use—I departed Bangkok gratefully about 9:30 AM. Times will be approximate from here on out—no watch! Despite a hopelessly inaccurate map provided by Shell Oil Co, I managed to find my way. I’ll have to assume the highway was renumbered (from 5 to 4) after the map was made up. Breaking in the Honda held me down to 30 mph for the first 50 miles. and I was able to then pick up a little better speed as the day progressed. First stop was Nakorn Prathom (the english names for these towns are spelled differently on every map I’ve seen—yours probably are different, so use your imagination!), where I posted mail and viewed the positively immense Wat there. It’s a big stupa that gives the impression from a distance of being turned from a single block of marble. But of course it is not marble at all—it is brick like most of them, hollow, and has a covering of tiny tiles in the peculiar pink-orange shade of red marble. The effect is enhanced (at a distance) by large patches of grey which proved to be places where the tiles are falling off. But the thing is gigantic—easily 100 ft or more diameter at the base. The day was lovely, sunny & warm, and I pushed on through Petchaburi (or Rajaburi—same place) to Phetburi, which has a nice cluster of temples, Wats and stupas situated atop a small hill. The day continuing fine, I moved on—the road degenerating into a more enjoyable 2-lane sort reminiscent of Cambodia—& arrived at Hua  Hin about 4 o’clock; 253 km from BK.

Somewhere South of Bangkok

Now, Hua Hin is a delightful spot, situated on the east Thai coast (or western shore of the Gulf of Thailand). It has miles of white sand beaches, and is backed up by mountains—the end of the chain going up into Burma. The town is also right on the railroad, and the delightful chug of steam engines pervades my hotel room at times. There are a number of resort-type hotels, but of course I’m at a chinese hotel nearer the center of town. Poked about on the beach a while—will swim tomorrow—and watched trains and (alternately) lovely sunset behind the mountains. For a while it was possible to see a spectacular sun-set in one direction and an equally spectacular moon-rise over the water in the other direction. I got no rain today at all—the first such day for some while—although it was stormy close-by over the hills. And of course I am a bit reddish here and there from the sun, though not seriously burned. I remembered to “grease up” fairly early. Although the roads are good, they are dirty, and my shirt was black (from diesel smoke) in places when I got here. I washed it out first thing. Then me—I was black in spots too! Had a pleasant and cheap Thai-food dinner. Happily, I am seeing some smiling faces again, and the atmosphere is getting more rural.

Beach at Hua Hin

Recall I mentioned deterioration of the film which I carried for many weeks before having it developed. This photo is a good example. With about an hour of work, I can enhance it to look like this:

The Beach at Hua Hin, South Thailand, 1968

It looks as though I shall break down and take some pictures of Thailand after all, though I took none—and want none—of Bangkok. There is a nice steam-engine on display here, a 3-cylinder “Superheat” (brand) made in the USA ca. 1920. All the engines I’ve seen seem to be this type. What a delight to see them, and smell hot, wet oil—and burning wood—again.

3-Cylinder “Superheat” (brand) Made in the USA ca. 1920

The Thais maintained these engines wonderfully, even when they were retired and on display.

Between Phetburi and here one passes through an area where a lot of charcoal is made, in curious brick bee-hive-like charcoal ovens. The smell is unlike anything I’ve ever smelled, but is certainly agreeable. Along the beach there are countless small sand-crabs that apparently spend their whole lives digging holes in the sand; that which they displace they make into small balls, which gives whole stretches of the beach a curious “pebbly” appearance. And there are immense jelly-fish, which apparently are harmless, since many people fool with them.

Will probably slow down a bit now that I’m away from BK. The route seems to criss-cross the isthmus several times. My best guess is that I’ll stay, at least overnight if not longer, in Chumpon next, then Ranong or Kapoe, then Phuket (on an island and said to be very pretty). At Kra buri I will apparently be right across the river from Burma. Ranong of course is on the other shore of the Isthmus, but between Krabi and Songhla I will cross back over again through Sadao to Penang (also an island). By then of course I will be in Malaysia. But I rather imagine I shall take at least a week to get there, assuming the “natives are friendly”—or at least more hospitable than in BK. Honda is performing better, but has a whole new group of sounds to get used to. In BK I dismantled the seat, discarding all the springs in it (too stiff) and stuffed a whole foam-rubber pillow into it. Considerably more comfortable than formerly.

Have no address to advise in Singapore. Will probably cable as before. 30 for tonight—early to bed; if I stay here tomorrow it will have to be all day, since the next hop is a long one & will require an early start. But I think I’d better swim here where the weather is good—my experience in Sihanoukville being what it was!

Love to all~

Bruce

________________

Tuesday 8 October 1968

Arose as nearly as I can figure about 7:30 AM. After a leisurely breakfast, I drove around town (which didn’t take long as there is not much of it) a bit, then found a nice beach & went swimming & sunning for the better part of an hour. Couldn’t over-do is as most of me is still pretty unaccustomed to the tropical sun, which will burn very quickly. Poked around the RR station for a while & saw some nice engines. The RR has quite a lot of activity on it.

A very big staple in the diet of all the countries I’ve visited is dried squid; catching & drying them is a big business here. Fresh from the water they are spread out on loosely-woven mats and these are put anywhere the direct sun will strike them. Drying doesn’t take long, but it is a very odoriferous process, as you can imagine.

Drying Squid in Hua Hin, 1968. Pee-yew!

In the afternoon I found a nice road going back into the mountains. Actually, it goes over the first saddle into quite a large valley, perhaps 2-300 feet above sea-level, & meanders around in this before suddenly ending in a cluster of foot-paths, right in the middle of a farm. It was stormy over the mountains further inland, and later the storm moved near town, though only light sprinkles of rain actually hit the town. I took the opportunity to do a bit of cleaning, tuning and checking of the Honda. I’d forgotten to check the spark-plug gaps before leaving BK, and was sure from the performance that they’d been set at the factory recommended 0.024″. For some reason on my machine this results in poor pick-up at wide throttle; re-setting the plugs to 0.020″ cures this nicely, so now I can be a little more sure of response when I twist the handle-grip. On the roads that lie ahead, this probably won’t be needed anyhow. Except for an annoying rattle inside (hence totally inaccessible) the right muffler, all is well. The rattle developed some while ago, & the only cure is a new muffler, which is hardly necessary. I can put up with the rattle, knowing it is not a serious problem. Depart early tomorrow for Chumpon—unless something interesting deters me; — about 267 km distant. Only a little farther than the BK-Hua Hin stretch, but poorer roads (thank goodness—they’re much more fun) so a bit slower going I expect.

Love to all~

Bruce

Next leg of trip: Chumpon. Lots of steam!

PHOTOGRAPHY

Anyone reading this blog will have discovered I am not a photographer! I don’t have a photographer’s “eye”, and I did not have a photographer’s camera. That I got any pictures of this trip at all amazes me still. Film for my Instamatic was not universally available, and when I could find it, was expensive. I rarely stayed long enough anywhere for processing, so I accumulated the exposed rolls and had them all developed when I got back to the US. As will be seen, there were some problems with this, and in some pictures humidity caused the emulsion to stick and caused strange blotches. To the extent I can fix any of this by computer, I will, but some of the poor shots are bound to appear.

National Geographic, June 2009

I took just one photo of Angkor Wat itself: one of the most photographed antiquities in the world, I wasn’t even going to try to capture it with my little point-and-shoot. There’s no way my feeble skills could do it any justice! There are many sources on the web, and I don’t know how many times it has turned up in the National Geographic, including the June 2009 issue.

The Moto appears in many shots: remember, I planned to write an article for a MC magazine when I got back, so I included it as often as I could. The article never materialized—until now, 40 years later.

FINDING MY WAY

I’m often asked how I found my way around without the benefit of GPS. By golly, there were maps! The one I used in Cambodia appears on the previous page. The highways and roads were numbered, and stone markers were plentiful. Signs were usually in both Cambodian and english! Later, when I got to Thailand, I found a map that had each town marked in Thai, with a transliteration into english below. Road-signs, however, were only in Thai. So, I picked out some feature of the Thai name—its extreme length, or some odd squiggly letter, any distinguishing feature—then simply “read” the signs by looking for that feature. It was really quite easy, and I never felt “lost” anywhere. I happen to have a fairly good sense of direction: it helped.

THE SAGA CONTINUES

DIARY ENTRIES: Wednesday, 18 Sept. (continued): Angkor Wat—indeed all the monuments—is incredible!! Besides the feat of piling up all the stones artfully enough, the entire exterior & interior surfaces are decorated—every square inch. Though the pattern-work is repetitious, the effect—softened no doubt by time—is truly beautiful. I see now why Todd raved so about this area—and I have only begun to see it!!!

BACKSTORY: The town of Siem Reap is a few km from the temple complex, and the Hotel de la Paix was closer. A wide avenue, then lined with tall trees, led towards the park. The avenue ended at a crossing with the road around the moat which surrounds Angkor Wat itself. Approaching that intersection, I did not notice the Wat until I was at the junction: suddenly, there it was! Despite having seen my brother Todd’s pictures, and having seen many photos in the Geographic, I was totally unprepared for the size and scope of it. The road surrounding the moat is a number of miles in length.

The Only Picture I Took of Angkor Wat Itself

Thursday 19 Sept: Arose around 6:30, departed Hotel around 7:30 for Banteay Srey. A lovely, well-preserved temple & well worth the trip, even though the road is not as shown on the map. After leaving B. Srey, decided to keep on & see how far towards Beng Melea I could get—but the road got progressively worse &—lacking knobbies—I eventually had to capitulate. Explored a couple of side roads but lacking any useful map located nothing. Returned to civilization & went to Banteay Samre. Pulled OK through a stream well over the hubs! But got there (with a short walk). This is also an impressive temple worth seeing. Back to Hotel for lunch, then out to Preah Ko & Bakong—and also worth the effort. Lolei, very nearby, was not worth the trip and while I was there the afternoon rain hit—and eventually passed. Later took [road] #29 down to Phnom Krom. The temple isn’t worth the trip but the road up there is something else! Back to dine at Hotel, then out to Angkor Wat for classical dances—my only homage to the tourist circuit. Colorful and gracelful, but essentially meaningless because it is so studied & symbolic. Then back to the Hotel for rest. Tomorrow—Battambang.

Banteay Srey

Photos of Banteay Srey. Far enough off the beaten track in those days to be still beautifully preserved. What has happened to it in the 40 years since I hate to think.

The Track to Beng Melea. Beyond the Honda’s Capabilities! The Road Down From Phnom Krom.

Sorry, it’s a lousy photo, but the bike IS in there!

Friday 20 Sept: Made Battambang about noon after leaving Siem Reap around 8. Weather excellent all the way. Road from Sisiphon to B.Bang not entirely paved, but not too slow-going. Met Thach Ny after a small lunch & we went to the modest home of his brother. Later, Ny, a little boy and I all three set out for Phnom Sampou. Before we got there we waited out a heavy storm, about 1½ hrs. Got into all sorts of trouble trying to get up the road, what with 3 people, mud, wetness, etc. Finally walked the last 1/2 way or so. Big cave with a sleeping Buddha at the top. Very pretty & green & wet. Rain began again as we descended, but had stopped by the time we got back to B.Bang. I later checked into the hotel, leaving Thack Ny with the understanding he was to meet me at the hotel next am at 7:30. Rain again, so I retired early, hence saw little of B.Bang: must go back again some day as it is a large place and nice.

BACKSTORY: But, Battambang much later was a K R stronghold, and the caves at Ph. Sampou now contain the remains of many who were killed. A portion of the hill is now being carved into a likeness of Buddha. The trip to B.Bang was mainly to reconnect with Thach, who had shown me much kindness and who shared himself with me often. How he got from P.Penh to B.Bang I do not know, and we met as planned, but he slept with his family, not with me! Oh, well, can’t win ‘em all!

Saturday, 21 Sept: Return to Siem Reap uneventful. Was unable to locate Banteay Chhmar. Will try to get info here on exact location (presumably near Sisiphon). Arrived around 1, & took the afternoon to do some maintenance on the bike. Took the glaze off the rear brakes—there is one wheel bearing in poor shape. The bike is a mess, but I may try one more off-the-beaten-track exercise tomorrow before cleaning it up. Changed oil—none too soon. Put in 40W this time.

Sunday, 22 Sept:Arose early. Had the Honda washed—a good job. Then proceeded to the park where I re-rode the main circuit, taking in the various monuments in greater depth than before. Ta Prohm is the best—pretty much left as it was found—very interesting how the jungle has over-grown it. The Banteay Kdei is fun too. Many monkeys were playing in the trees around it. A huge spider had dropped his web around the pathway—he was a colorful, though evil-looking beast. Observed army ants at work: fascinating!! Rain in the pm and mid-evening, maybe more later. May try to get to Chau Srey Vibol tomorrow—depends on weather, among other things.

Banteay Kdei. Note Hand of Bananas Strapped to the Bike.

Monday 23 Sept: Got a bit of a late start, went to Roluos & started off through the rice paddies for Chau Srei Vibol. Got about 4 km out & ran into water well over the hubs, so had to turn back. The cyclo boys say there is a new road in, but I can’t find it as it is not marked. Came back to Angkor and tried another road—it began better, but I came to a bridge that I’d have had to repair to get across, so I decided enough is definitely enough & turned back. Poked around in the Bayon later, & some back roads, then did a circuit of the West Bayon & eventually returned to Hotel to sit out the afternoon rain. Had a quiet evening of chats with some chaps, then off to bed.

Track to Chau Srei Vibol. The Puddle was formidable!

BACKSTORY: The track in the first picture is easily navigated on a motorbike. I actually traversed a puddle similar to the one shown in the second photo to reach this point. I decided this one was too deep, and who-knows-what was in the distance. The previous puddle I had managed to avoid by going around it. But, returning, I knew I could not climb the muddy bank I had come down, so I stopped to contemplate how I might get through the puddle itself. A little boy materialized and with no prompting waded into the water to show me how deep it was. So I revved up the engine, tickled the clutch and kept my feet down to stabilize and got through. (If water reaches the spark-plugs, it’s all over: if not, you get through.) I got through, and parked the bike to let it drain and to wring the water out of my pants. Just then a gent sitting on a high-wheeled cart pulled by a water-b came along and sloshed through the puddle I had just navigated. The look on his face, as clear as it could be, said, “What the f*** is this dude doing out here with a motorcycle? He needs a water-b!” He was right, and if I had had the time and sense, I might have hired him to take me to the temple. Another time, perhaps!

The Bayon: One of the Most Photographed of the Temples Besides Angkor Wat.

Tuesday 24 Sept: Up early, but with a slight head-ache for some obscure reason. Lolligagged over breakfast consequently, then went out to the park & poked around in Ta Keo, then Ta Prohm for a last look at my favorite temple. Rain commenced shortly after lunch, so I shopped in town a bit, tuned the Honda a bit, and otherwise killed the afternoon. Tomorrow—set out for Bangkok.

Looking Down from the Top of Bakong Temple. Banteay Samre and Preah Ko Entrance, Preah Khan Temple The Demon Gate to Angkor Thom

REMINISCENCES: I was there in the off season: most of the time there was no one but me wandering around the temples. But there were people using them: it was not unusual to find punk-sticks smoldering here and there, and now and then I’d get a glimpse of a saffron robe. I was trapped in Ta Prom one afternoon when it rained a bit earlier than expected, and that was an experience I won’t forget! The monsoons drop huge quantities of rain, yet inside the temple, under the trees which over-grow it, no water ever hit me directly. Instead, it ran down all over everything! Small water-falls appeared out of nowhere. It was dark, dank, wet, and fascinating!

In the dry season the ficus trees shed huge amounts of pollen, so much that the temples appear yellow in photographs. In the wet season the temples are washed clean every day.

I left the cycle wherever and whenever to roam the temples. No one ever touched it, except a few times I returned to find it covered with card-board or something if it looked like rain.

In many temples I found small rooms with a lingam (google it) prominently displayed. Whatever, there’s no mistaking these phallic symbols. Just how they were used in the hey-day of the temples I’m not sure, but I did find one that had been anointed with sperm not long before I got there. I added some. I often found myself horny wandering around there: I’ve no idea why. I left some calling-cards.

Coming up: on to Thailand!  Stay with me…

DIARY ENTRY, 12 SEPT THURSDAY: Rain all day—dammit—and no indication it will stop. Walked around the town—such as it is—and otherwise sat out the rain. Did get a good raincoat and some boards to support my sagging bag. With the rain, my wet clothes are very slow to dry out. If there is rain tomorrow I shall abandon Sihanoukville for Kirirom, or possibly even P.Penh again if Kirirom is also raining.

The satchel which sat cross-wise on the luggage-rack of the bike had a card-board bottom: when it got wet, it began to sag and ooze over each side of the rack. I scrounged up a board at a construction-site, lashed it across the rack for the bag to sit on. Also in S-ville I figured out the necessity of wrapping dry clothes in plastic so as to keep them dry, since the satchel’s zipper leaked water. Like the natives, I wore a plastic rain-coat backwards when driving in rain. This resulted in a lake in my lap, and of course did nothing to keep the legs of my pants dry, but in general the raincoat helped keep much of me relatively dry, so that when the weather improved and I took the coat off, I did not have to fight evaporation (which quickly cools one off when riding a motorcycle).

Friday, 13th Sept 68

As mentioned previously, I left S-ville early yesterday morning. It was, of course, raining, and for about the first hour of the trip it rained very hard—even harder than when I had traversed the same route 2 days earlier. But when I reached the junction with National Route 3 and turned inland, the rain eased up and finally stopped. The road [took me to] the famous Route #4—Khmer-American Friendship Highway. Built along about 1958 [actually, 1959]. Happily, it  has held up well & is a good high-speed road. There was no traffic to speak of. By the time I reached the junction to Kirirom, I was very nearly dry and had actually had some sunshine.

Your taxes and mine: the Khmer-American Friendship Highway, 1959 (222 km).

But turning off to Kirirom of course put me up into the mountains again, and Kirirom was both rainy and cold—the coldest I’ve been since I left the states. So I looked Kirirom over, viewed the Chalet d’Etat (Entré Interdite) ate an early lunch at the Restaurant du Lac, then moved on. Kirirom is a lovely spot, though, being developed as a big camping and resort area. Given good weather it would be a superb place to spend a couple of weeks camping and hiking.

[More about Kirirom here.]

All that’s left now of the Chalet d’Etat!

Downhill, more rain, but that stopped soon after I resumed Hiway 4, and I got to Kampong Speu about 2. Kg. Speu is just a little off the highway, and apparently most tourists don’t stop there. I got a nice welcome from the usual swarm of kids. My Honda attracts almost as much attention as I do! So, after Soup Chinois & friendly “talks” with the people, I pressed on, staying just behind a storm that passed over P.Penh, and arriving there about 3 PM. Checked into the Mondial again, got some laundry together for them to do up, then napped for an hour. About 6 I went to the Petit Restaurant Champey Siemreap, 1126 Mao Tse Toung Street (!!) for a splendid evening of excellent Cambodian food and warm companionship with the “Director” (of the restaurant), his family, and all the friends he could con into joining us. “Home” to bed about 11:30–and a well deserved long sleep.

DIARY ENTRY, SATURDAY, 14TH: About 2 took off to Tahkmau, then to Chambak, then by the little-used dirt road across to Route 3. I thought I was going to Kg. Speu, but it turned out to take too long, so returned to  PP.

Many roads in Cambodia then looked like this: easily passable in dry weather, treacherous in wet!

BACKSTORY: I had made a date with Thack Ny for that evening: he went with me to the Petit Restaurant and was able to translate for me much of what went on there. For the most part it was innocent banter, but I was startled when the conversation turned to Samdech Sihanouk, nominally the King of Cambodia at the time. There was a State publication (probably called “Cambodia Today”, though I do not recall the exact title), published monthly in several languages and covering various events in the country. The issue current at the time had a “spread” on Sihanouk’s son, who was a ballet-dancer. He had his own ballet teacher, imported from Poland, and was featured in some of Sd. Sihanouk’s locally-made movies. It seemed pretty clear the youngster was gay, and over some good-natured laughter, it was remarked that if anything happened to Sihanouk, they would have “a queen for king”! That son is now Cambodian Head of State, Norodom Sihamoni.

I slept in this AM, and in the afternoon, after more camaraderie at the restaurant mentioned earlier, took a lazy trip in the nearby country-side, including 10 km of a marvelous little dirt road wending its way through the country-side. Along here I really caused a sensation, and it was hard to resist not taking endless photos and spending much time at PR work. But the day wore on, so I returned to P.Penh about 5:30, on the heels once again of the daily afternoon cloud-burst which I missed entirely by taking the trip.

The Honda is performing splendidly. It is a marvelous contraption, taking all the variations in roads & weather in great stride. I’ve already put over 600 miles on it—and it looks as though I will do about double the mileage I’d planned originally before I get to BK. But I shall probably not soon have another opportunity, so I want to see as much as I can.

Tomorrow I’m taking in Prey Veng & Kampong Cham, which will entail crossing the Mekong River (by ferry) twice. Monday, up to Pursat & back, on the south side of the Tonle Sap. Then Tuesday off to Kampong Thom, the next day to Siem Reap. One day, I will go from SR to Pursat, hence completing the circle of the great Tonle Sap.

The sunburn I got in Kep, since it was not followed up by more sun, is peeling off right on schedule. But from here on I should get sun everyday. Alas, I doubt I shall ever reach the beautiful Khmer hue, but I should at least get a better tan than I’ve had before.

Petrol, incidentally, is expensive—over $1.00/gallon in most places. But with the Honda, the cost per mile is still very low. I use about 6 L (ca. 1-1/2 gal) between S-ville and P.Penh, with side trip up to Kirirom. It works out to less than 2c per mile!

Luv to all~

Bruce

Palais Royal and Dancers Pavilion, Phnom Penh

I rode the entire 5000+ km without a helmet. I had a pair of wrap-around dark glasses to protect my eyes, and a more-or-less water-proof cap to add when driving in rain. The end of my nose tended to burn and scab over; from time to time I would peel off the scab, and the process would repeat. I got any number of new noses on the trip! During warm days, dragon-flies tended to hover over the roadway, enjoying the heat rising from the pavement. If I saw one coming towards me, it would get into my slip-stream and go around. But once in a while one would fly in at exactly the right angle to miss the slip-stream and splat! At 45 mph, a dragon-fly is pretty formidable!

More letters and pictures coming: stay tuned!

ORGANIZING MY DEPARTURE

Once I had resigned from PA&E, I had to firm up my plans in a hurry.  It was necessary to get an Exit Visa from the Vietnamese immigration authorities. I left this to PA&E, since they had functionaries who dealt with immigration all the time. I  filled out a form in long-hand, gave them  my  passport and took a receipt. All other preparations for departure I undertook myself, distrustful of PA&E’s ability to handle my exit which was so different from those of their other employees. I put off my actual departure until the Thursday flight to Phnom Penh, scheduled out at 4:00 pm, to be sure I had time to get everything ready.

Meanwhile, I closed down my apartment, sold off whatever I could not carry, and moved to a hotel. A suitcase full of clothing was packed and sent unaccompanied—one could do that in those days—to Bangkok. There remained only one problem: that .38 revolver given to me by the fellow who freaked out soon after our arrival had been stored in the bottom of my suitcase. I had to dispose of the gun. I could probably have turned it in to some authority, but which of the many “authorities” available could deal with it? What kind of questions would they ask, and what amount of hot-water would I get myself into?

In the end, I wrapped the 6 bullets in newspaper and stuffed them into the holster with a stone: I tossed this into the Saigon Canal, confident that the numerous bugs in that polluted water would chew up the holster in a hurry. The stone and bullets would sink into the muck, never to be found. The gun itself I dropped into the elevated wall-cistern for the toilet in my hotel room. I figured that by the time anyone discovered it, it would be a mass of rust beyond any hope of use. For all I know, that gun may still be there!

PA&E, on the other hand, was slow in preparing my paycheck and getting the exit visa. Good thing I left extra time!

DIARY ENTRY:  Wednesday, 4 September 1968: Well, PA&E nearly fucked up the works, but through perseverance I managed to get nearly everything set to go tomorrow. The paycheck wasn’t ready until after lunch, which left precious little time to get travelers checks and plane tickets. Whereas I had to wait 4 hours just for two signatures to be applied to my final paycheck, I got the travelers checks and airplane tickets done in just under two hours—and that included three separate calls at AIR VN & @ the bank! They talk about orientals being slow??? Have to get some form or other @ Air VN regarding my bag—certifying it can go through Customs locked; have to get passport @ Australian Embassy, & have to get to TSN tomorrow—all should be relatively easy. Of course, I won’t really be sure this scheme is going to work until I & the Honda are safely ensconced on the plane!!

There was a charming young lady at Air Vietnam who explained in detail exactly the steps I had to take to buy a ticket for myself and for the motorcycle and to purchase travelers checks. The machine had to be weighed: she told me exactly where to go to get that done, and it went without a hitch. (Of course, I rode the bike to all these places: it would not actually be prepared and drained until the very day I left). Buying and paying for the tickets and checks was complicated by the restrictions on money, and involved several trips to the bank—a branch of Bank of America!—but in the space of an afternoon all of this was done. As always, I found that by following directions and smiling a lot, I had no problems.

I was told the bike had to be “drained”, that is, no fuel in the tank when it went on the plane. But this meant that at the other end I would have no idea where to purchase fuel and hence how to get the bike back on the road. So I took a small bottle of gasoline tightly sealed in one of the saddle-bags, and these I carried on with my satchel. The form from Air VN certifying that my bag need not be inspected allowed me to get away with this little subterfuge.

On my last night in Vietnam, I had a nice dinner at the only fancy restaurant going at the time: it was french cuisine (not my favorite), but did have white table-cloths and good presentation. Afterwards, I had one last quickie with my friend Nguyen, which helped me sleep.

Come morning, I would be off on a new adventure! With my passport in hand. . .

Passport

. . . I had my visa for going INTO Vietnam “voided”, on the theory that I might run into someone who objected to my having been there. . .

Voided visa

. . . and I had my visa for Cambodia:

Cambodia visa

The chop in upper left is my departure stamp, which took some doing to get! Stay tuned!