M Y O B

September 5, 2009

It is nearly 41 years to the day that I found myself unable to make up my mind what to do in VietNam. I really did want to leave VN feeling I had accomplished something useful, either to my employer, the US Army, or the Vietnamese. Seven of my 18-months were gone, and I had nothing whatever to show for it. My health was deteriorating, and my wander-lust was increasing. I was all ready to go:

Ready to depart Saigon, September, 1968, on a Honda CB-125

All I needed was cooperation from PA&E!

_____________________________

Thursday PM, 22 AUG 1968

Dear everyone~

Nearly two weeks has passed since my last letter: as far as my job is concerned, there has been no change to speak of. On Monday I met by chance the General Manager of the Company, who seemed to know of my situation, and who indicated that the matter would be cleared up. Later, arother person indicated they hoped to be able to work out a way to keep me satisfied in country, intimating that perhaps they want to revive the lab program. I have heard nothing since.

Since taking over my new “responsibilities”, I have been plagued by a malady which appears to be some strain of flu, but which has remarkably malaria-like symptoms: chills, fever, aches, etc. It is aggravated greatly by having to spend the day freezing (even with a coat on) in the air conditioned office. The temperature difference is usually at least 20 degrees, and my system is just not used to it. I spent today at home, popping pills, drinking liquids, etc, on advice of the company doctor.

You have doubtless already read that the VC rocketed downtown Saigon again, beginning about 4:30 this AM. It is a rude way to be awakened, I must say! The National Assembly Building, at the end of LeLoi Avenue, was hit by two rockets, causing a fair amount of damage to it, and collapsing many windows in the Caravelle. The room Robb’s friend stayed in at the Caravelle (Robb took a photo of me on its balcony) was showered with broken glass. Four large plate windows on the ground floor were blown in, but inasmuch as they had been extensively taped on the inside, surprisingly little glass was spread around.

At Bien Hoa, close by Long Binh, I understand an ammo dump was hit, causing a huge explosion which, among other things, broke nearly all the windows in the rather new USARV HQ complex at Long Binh. The Generals spent the day complaining that their offices were too warm, because without windows, their air conditioning was not very effective. Tough!

Naturally, rumors are rife that tonight will see the launching of the long awaited third offensive against Saigon. I don’t have access to any actual intelligence to support this: of course it is possible, but rumors are so plentiful here that one learns to ignore them.

The Soviet invasion of Czechoslavokia has dominated the news from all over the world today. I am inclined to think it presents us (and SVN) with a wonderful oportunity to launch a massive invasion of NVN with the excuse that Ho Chi Minh had invited us in to suppress a wave of revisionism there. With their present posture in Cz’a, how could Russia possibly refute this? And might it not give Russia pause to find us willing to pull the same sort of stunts they pull with the same flimsy excuses? Our reactions to any situation are so damned predictable that a cunning group can easily outsmart us. If we began acting irrationally for a change it would put the communists on the defensive. Most news commentaries are remarking that the latest developments will set back east-west relations: but consider how little effect the similar events in Hungary had. Despite all the wailing and moaning and gnashing of teeth at that time, the matter was quite quickly forgotten.

Appalling as it seems when I think about it, I find myself tempted to agree with some of the most unlikely people in the Presidential race this year. For instance, Mr. Reagan has a point when he points out that nuclear warheads and so forth really are NOT a deterrent to war if people are committed NOT to use them. And there is something to be said, I think, for Gov. Wallace’s harping on the matter of trade with the Soviet bloc, or with our so called allies who do the same. There is a fundamental inconsistency in our policies here that ought to be cleared up. I find myself tending to disagree more and more with Clean Gene and Hubert on the matter of a coalition government here: why should this be a satisfactory arrangement here, when we obviously would never consider it at home? Despite the alleged freedoms in the US, the communist party is essentially outlawed, its members are required to register in a way that members of no other party are, and the party and its members are under constant surveillance. So far as is known, no confessed communist has ever been elected to any important national office in the US. Yet we propose that a coalition is the answer in VN.

No one could possibly want this war over here ended more than I. But I marvel at the obtuse way we have conducted it, and I marvel at how easily people can overlook the fact that once entrenched, communism simply does not under any circumstances allow any individual freedoms: Hungary proved that, and now Cz’a has once again underscored that proof. Thus, if we are SERIOUS about guaranteeing individual freedoms, we must back that up with the necessary force to keep communism OUT of VN. The ONLY way we can do that now, given the situation as we have allowed it to deteriorate thus far, is to declare that “the picnic is over” and get busy with the actual job of winning this thing permanently. I disagree with those who contend that a military victory here is impossible, though I agree that so long as we try to win it with one hand tied behind our backs, and our legs hobbled as well, there is no hope.

There have been obvious improvements in the Saigon government under PM Houng; there is still much to be accomplished, but he is getting the upper hand in the corruption bit, has improved the efficiency of the the governmental apparatus considerably, and is making his presence felt even among the lowliest peasants, both in the cities and in the provs. This has been accomplished in only twelve weeks.

As for my own situation, I am going to see if I can’t bring this matter to a head tomorrow. There is—no question about it—a certain risk in being here in this place at this time. While I’m not particularly worried or fearful, I do feel foolish remaining in an obviously dangerous situation when I am doing nothing worthwhile to warrant staying. If the company really wants to get behind the lab program and can give me some concrete evidence of its willingness to back it fully, then I’m happy enough to stay and help them accomplish it. But if they have anything else in mind I shall (assuming they won’t surplus me) have to resign at last and move on.

So that’s how matters stand at the moment—not really very different from when I wrote last. I’ve been living out of a suitcase for nearly a month again, since I was all ready packing when they said I would be going. Part of the urgency for me in getting my situation decided one way or the other is so I can (or can not) re-settle into the apartment before Sept 1—or as the case may be, can vacate it without having to pay another month’s rent and move to a hotel for whatever short time might remain. That’s a pretty confused sentence, but I guess you can figure out what I mean!

Luv to all~
Bruce

Looking back 41 years later, I find it hard to believe I wrote as I did in the letter above! It must have driven my Dad to distraction: he was a staunch pacifist. I think the sentiments reflect my inability to bring anything useful to fruition, with nearly half my time in country used up.

Spare time was spent outfitting the cycle. I attached two saddle-bags in such a way that they could be removed fairly easily, buckled together, and tossed over the satchel. I could then pick up all my luggage with one hand, to carry it into hotels and so forth.

Saigon

Here is the motorcycle, loaded, with the Continental Palace Hotel in the background (the CPH was across the street from the Rex). The former owner of the bike had outfitted it with a number-plate “X 04631″ which may have meant something to him, but only served as an identifying mark for me. Not that it was needed: I probably had the only CB160 in all VN at the time, and I saw very few others anywhere. It usually drew a crowd when parked.

Classy Little Moto

It was a pretty classy little machine!

_________________

Sunday, 25 August 1968

Dear everyone~

Well, the workings of PA&E are wondrous to behold, but there is still not a great deal to report. The man at CMO who represented the largest stumbling block to progress of the lab has been relieved, and as a result of my efforts to get the General Manager interested in the lab, I was shunted in to see the NEW manager of the Installations Department last Friday. It was not an entirely satisfactory meeting. The new man is brand new in country, and shares a degree of optimism both about the Army and the supply system here that is typical of new hires, but which belies his innocence. As I’d suspected, there is hope of reviving the lab, and (for the moment, in an unofficial capacity) they want me to help. I have agreement in principal that the functional control of the program should be transferred out from under Dan Smythe, but that is only a small part of the battle. I’m not convinced yet that the route this man proposes to use is best, principally because if he succeeds in getting the army’s concurrence, it will place the burden of actually bringing the lab to fruition on PA&E  and I have no illusions about this company’s ability to do this: the management and other abilities necessary to coordinate and breathe life into the program are simply in too short supply here, despite the large number of bodies on the payroll.

In a sense, the limited commitment of the company to do something removes the grounds for surplusing me, although technically there still is no job “slot” in my field, and it will take some time for one to be created. This leaves only one way out—if I decide to abandon the ship—a resignation. This will, besides costing some money, leave something of a blot on my work record, though I don’t expect to ever again apply to anyone who would be particularly concerned about that. The money is not important either. If I stay to complete this contract (and because of some peculiarities of the new R&U contract PA&E has with the army, I will not be offered a second contract) it means another 11 months of shuffling papers like everybody else, accomplishing nothing constructive, with a certain risk of life and limb involved that is, at best, somewhat greater than some other parts of the world. At completion of my time, all I will have to show for the time spent is a good bank account, which counts for something, I suppose; but I wonder now whether I can survive the 11 months of inactivity?

Unquestionably, if I stick with it, I will be on the verge of resigning precipitately for the entire time. The urge is especially strong this day as I managed to pick up a copy of the August Playboy, and read the “Interview” with Wm Sloan Coffin.  I doubt it has been evident in recent letters, which I seem to recall have been preoccupied with this silly game of musical-jobs at PA&E, but my feelings about the entire question of american involvement here are becoming more firmly against it with time, after going through a period of some ambivalence while I got my bearings. The more I see of how miserably we have bungled the job, and how little is being done to correct all the blunders, the less I want to be associated with it, even as peripherally as I really am.

Mulling these matters over at dinner tonight, I was struck by the fact that some of the most articulate and reasoned objections I’ve heard voiced against this business here have come from men on active duty IN the military. I suppose this is to be expected, since by no means all of the mil pers here are here by choice (!), while most of the civilians are.

And I, of course, am in the latter category. In the largest sense, in trying to leave behind one milieu in which I was consistently uncomfortable, I have moved into another! This was not entirely unforeseen—and since there is a plainly discernable time when it will no longer be necessary to remain in this situation (the end of my contract), I suppose I, too, can start marking off the days like so many people do here. The only thing that wrangles is the fact that for the duration I will be a part of something that I and many others think is wrong and indefensible. The only thing that partially offsets this is the knowledge that the money I’m getting is being paid for next-to-nothing useful to the movement—which is, in a sense, subversion, even if I am powerless to prevent it.

As you can see, I am going through a period of some confusion about just what to do. I don’t look forward to vacillating thus for 11 months! I’ve got to resolve the matter soon one way or another. One thing that would help would be to have some way to do something directly for the people here (outside of work). But I’m now on a 6-day week, which leaves precious little time for such activity: Sunday has to be a pretty quiet day—a little shopping, washing, etc.

Well—enuf of this for the moment. I’ve had almost no letters in nearly a month—largely as a result of my request to the PO to send my mail to Robb.

Luv to all~
Bruce

PS: Have you had any more word from Tai?

__________________

The answer to that last question was “no”: Tai was never seen or heard-from again.

Shortly before I departed, that awful statue of the VN soldier pointing his gun at the National Assembly Building was removed. It had been an eye-sore from day-one. Under it was a fountain!

A Fountain Underneath

My situation at PA&E was deteriorating. The office in which I sat eight hours per day was air-conditioned to a uniform 65º F, although the hallways between the offices remained above ambient due to sun beating down on the Quonset-hut. Ambient was generally above 100º. Despite wearing coats and sweaters, I realized one day I was on the verge of pneumonia due to the frequent temperature changes. Not only was my health impacted in this way, but the VC continued to rocket Saigon now and then, so one never knew when he might be “in the wrong place at the right time”.

I no longer recall what—if anything—happened to precipitate my decision. The long and short of it was, one day I turned to the gent there in the office with me (apparently, I was working under him, even though no one had made that clear) and said, “No offense meant, but you can take this job and shove it!” His reply was, “No offense taken, done!”

I filled out the necessary form later that day, and the rest, as they say, is history! Over the next few days, I made all the arrangements to depart on an Air Vietnam flight to Phnom Penh, with my Honda as excess baggage. The only thing I left to PA&E was to obtain my exit visa, and therein lies yet another tale, to be related soon.

Stay tuned!

August 12, 2009

Letters are coming about once a week now.

Sat. 7 April 1968

Dear Everybody~

Pardon my using up this ti ti paper—I seem to have run out of the larger stuff I had around.

The week began well enough, with receipt of a letter from the IRS acknowledging their error and promising to refund all my money plus interest. Indeed, I have received one check already. It only took them two months, along with five letters from me to get it straightened out!

Early in the week I busied myself with more refrigerator work and similar stuff. Midweek, however, I was called to see the Inst. Mgr. (Dan Smythe), and it seems that when the Army inspected us on March 14, they didn’t find the Lab situation too pleasing, and so rapped (or “gigged”, as the Army puts it) him pretty hard. Naturally, he produced reams of “CYA” material (CYA = Cover Your A–) through which he laid all the blame on CMO, and after we’d gone over that thoroughly, he laid the monkey squarely in my lap—just what I’ve been waiting for. He hasn’t yet any idea of the pandora’s box he’s opened, but since he is soon to be relieved as near as anyone can tell, it won’t really matter. Today I finally got to see the right people at USARV, and received a most sympathetic and even enthusiastic response there. All sorts of possibilities are opening up, though the implementation will take boocoo time, no doubt. Eventually, there’s even the possibility I may go to Japan to buy equipment (I’d have to think that over very carefully!); the presently projected staff to comply with Dan’s ideas is about 14, and to comply with what the Army seems to have in mind will be even more! Naturally, I’ve elevated my self to Chief of Water Lab (actually, Dan so addresses me)! Among other things that I hope will become involved here is transfer of the Lab to new quarters as near as possible to Tan Son Nhut (to facilitate transportation of samples and field support teams), and to get away from that infernal dust at LB. It’s all at a very nebulous stage now, and will stay that way for awhile through the technical discussion period. The plan is to start tunneling from two ends—USARV and CMO—and hope we meet somewhere along the line.

The news from home this week has certainly been fast breaking—and heart breaking. I was only mildly surprised at Johnson’s decision not to run, because several commentators had suggested the possibility, and because Johnson is, above all else, a politician: politically, he has taken the surest road to coming out of it all smelling like a rose no matter what happens. If he allows himself to be drafted, and loses, he can always say, “Well, I wanted out back in April”; if he wins, no one will even bring the matter up. And of course, if he actually refuses a draft, he will have served notice far enough in advance. Above it all is his “lofty purpose”, to which he can always pridefully point: to be President uninterrupted right through his full term. And BEHIND it all, is the fact that his “new” policy on VN may becalm the Kennedy and McCarthy sloops. This sudden and dramatic about-face on VN may well take a lot of wind out of all his opponents’ sails, and if he actually gets any concrete response from Hanoi, he’s assured, I think, of a popular-acclaim draft for another term (in spite of the fact I still don’t think he deserves it).

The saddest aspect of it that I can see is what I interpret as pretty solid evidence that his TIMING in the matter was almost solely timed for political expediency, rather than for the good of the country. And as subsequent events have shown, he has sold America down the river as a result. His lukewarm response to his own commission’s riot report (which as I write this is probably being reappraised by him and will be the major topic in his address to Congress Monday) certainly did not help matters a bit.

As to the prospects for his halt-the-bombing step resulting in any real progress, the feeling here runs from a high of exceedingly cautious optimism down to total rejection. I would place my own feelings in the former group. I think the most significant thing in Johnson’s speech may have been his pointed omission of anything related to what he may do if Hanoi does not respond positively, or if Hanoi takes the opportunity (as most everyone here expects they will) to re-trench.

The news of Dr. King’s assassination was received here with considerable unofficial jubilation. Racism is more rampant here among the americans than at home—if that be possible. The ignorance revealed by most peoples’ notion that Dr. King’s demise will calm things down in america is, of course, made apparent by reports of renewed violence, which is bound to become worse before any relief is gained. America seems bound for a revolution at last, and perhaps the only thing that can be said for it is that the sooner it runs its course the sooner some sort of normalcy—hopefully with some important improvements—can be resumed. That revolution has been in the works for some time, and that it probably could not have been prevented by anyone seems evident to me: but I believe wiser leadership by the President might have made it a less destructive and more constructive sort of revolution. It remains to be seen, of course, but I have the feeling that little constructive progress in the field of human relations is going to appear in the US for some years. I have no reason to think that Kennedy or Nixon—should either get elected, will (or can) do much about this, and I fear that McCarthy lacks the drive to back up  his determination.

The weather here has grown steadily hotter, though by no means unbearable as far as I am concerned. We logged 108° F a few days ago, but had an hour of rain at LB one night (though none in Saigon!).

Schools reopened in Saigon April lst, and in the AM & PM both, the streets are awash with youngsters, for the most part dolled up in blue pants or shorts and white shirt (boys) and black pajamas with white ao dai’s (girls). Where all these kids have been keeping themselves the past weeks I don’t know, but with all of them out on the streets now, traffic is hampered considerably. All schools are on double session—8-12 and 2-6. They run the full year ’round, with a break only at Tet and numerous one-day holidays throughout the year. The week is six days long.

I had letters on Wednesday from all branches of the family. For everybody’s information, a water point is simply a well, creek, etc. where water is produced for consumption, either potable for drinking purposes or non potable for industrial use. Over here, it is usually a well-pump-generator set up, with a chlorinator. Nothing to it really, and I haven’t yet had to run one.

Guess that’s 30. Oh: I continue to enjoy the radio, and we’ve been having some power outages here lately that drop out all the fluorescent-light static, and reception is very good! I suspect I may have my tapes shipped over, though: machines are very cheap,here, and I miss a lot of my music.

Love to all
Bruce

At this point in my narrative, I had been in Vietnam for about 9 weeks. Suddenly, I became “legal”—my USARV “pass” was issued. I wore this on a chain, along with several other items, but usually tucked them all into my shirt pocket.

Saigon USARV Pass

I don’t recall any occasion when someone actually asked to see it, but there must have been a few times when it got me into some place I might not otherwise have been allowed.

I also got to carry the document shown below: I no longer recall what is was supposed to be for, as it is all in Vietnamese. Perhaps it was a local drivers license?

Saigon Document

Virtually all documents we were required to carry got encapsulated in plastic one way or another: otherwise, humidity and mildew were likely to cause them to disintegrate quite rapidly.

Here is another letter, written a week later: note at ten weeks, the first mention of leaving Vietnam!

Easter Sunday,14 April (here)

Dear Everyone~

Just a week ago I sat here writing of the fairly eventful week that preceded last Sunday. The week I now write about has been less eventful here, but (predictably) fairly eventful at home. Until Teusday night, AFVN suspended normal programming in deference to Dr. King’s demise, and all flags (including the Vietnamese ones) flew at half-mast. The news from all corners of the world was of the intense and bloody reaction that followed the assassination. Though I never heard San Francisco specifically mentioned, word from friends there indicates that there was some disorderliness there, which, of course, I would have found surprising had none occurred. All this is only a presage of things to come; revolutions generally follow pretty predictable courses, so there is bound to be much more activity, much more bloodshed, and much more hard feeling.

Throughout the week, these events at home came up in conversation often. The general concensus was always to the general effect that “we” were going to have to kill off a whole lot more of “those n—–s”, in order to straighten out this thing. Quite predictably, when I suggested the simple alternative of just treating the black people like people, which they are, instead of like animals, which they are not, these conversations came to a quick halt (precisely what I desired). Actually, moving into these circles here is like stepping backwards in time about twenty years. Where, in the US, one can usually count on generating a little sympathy for the black mans’ cause in just about any group, here, among the professional expatriates who make up the bulk of the american population, one is considered wildly radical if he departs from the hard-line racism in the slightest degree. Hence, I am considered a dangerous liberal: if most of my acquaintances here (I consider none of them friends!) were to know just how far my liberalism goes, I would probably be totally ostracised. Fortunately, I was not unprepared to be trapped in this mire of ignorance: my internal idealism and seemingly perpetual optimism are both bearing up well. My faith in the fortuitous process of dieing-out of the current generation with the slow but inexorable consequence of change in attitudes is not diminished; this, coupled with the determination of many people of many colors to erase the color line will, I am sure, combine to bring about a better time for everyone: the tragedy lies in the fact that what should be so simple a task turns out to be so difficult.

As far as work goes, I can’t report much progress, but at least I have managed to generate some sympathy for my predicament both in fairly high eschelons of the Army and at CMO. Taking Dan Smythe’s mandate as a starting point, and interpreting both it and our contract with the Army as broadly as possibly, I am developing a program of magnitude that will, I am sure, set Dan back on his heels! Briefly, the essence of it includes three basic concepts: 1) that responsibility for the laboratory be returned to the Installations Department of CMO; 2) an entirely new laboratory be constructed from the ground up; and 3) supplies and equipment for at least a year’s operation be procured under my direction through direct US purchase and flown over by the AF; meanwhile going through the normal Fed Stock System in the hopes that future re-supply can be so obtained.

A program of this magnitude is about equivalent to setting up a central water laboratory facility for the state of California, and will involve in its first year the expenditure of about half a million dollars. The staff will grow rapidly to some twenty persons; the lab will occupy about 10,000 sq ft (as compared with about 1000 in the present structure). New applicable Army Regulations deal heavily with “CBR” agents (Chemical, Biological, and Radiological), which require vast quantities of expensive equipment and very sophisticated personnel to run it.

Assuming the program is adopted and implemented (and several people at USARV are most enthusiastic), there is a distinct possibility I might have to go TDY to the states to supervise the initial procurement. When this will be is impossible to foretell now. Almost certainly, one or more trips to Japan would also be required, since that is the logical place to procure the more bulky lab furnishings, as well as some items of instrumentation. I contemplate definitely getting an AA unit like we had at [previous employer].

All the vagueries of this entire situation here, however, combine to make all this very tenuous at best, and quite possibly no action at all will be taken towards implementing this program. In that event, I won’t stay here in Vietnam past June 30th, when the company must perforce give everyone a “completed contract” in order to close out its FY contract with the Army. At such time there is always a shake-up in personnel for all sorts of reasons. If I see no future in my position by then, I shall, in local parlance, di di mau—though not to the states you can be sure—most probably my next stop would be Indonesia, where a number of more or less international oil firms are quite busy, and where I think I might have a good possibility of getting on. Time will tell!

The weather is beginning to change subtly. It remains hot, of course, which, as I have repeatedly mentioned, is a delight for me. The humidity is beginning to rise above its usual 80%, or so, which results is surprisingly little discomfort if one can dress properly for it. Already it has rained occasionally, twice in Saigon and three times in LB so far. So far it has been light by tropical standards. These are the first rains since 10 December, and it will continue sporadically now, becoming more frequent through May and June, with almost daily showers through July and August, and almost continuous rains through September.

I haven’t yet found an issue of the Geographic with the Saigon article. Todd is correct when he says that one goes out Le Van Duyet to get to Hiway 1; I have been incorrect in referring to the Hiway I ride daily to Long Binh as Hiway 1: 1 think it is 1A, but the local name is simply Xa Lo Bien Hoa (X VN = S Eng) or Bien Hoa Hiway. (Bien Hoa is pronounced “been wah”). Hence, one goes North-East on Phan-thanh-Gian, which becomes the hiway to Bien Hoa, which is adjacent to Long Binh. I’ll draw a little map to enclose which may make all this a little clearer.

That about does it, except for whatever personal notes I may add to individual letters. I expect there will be letters awaiting me at LB tomorrow AM, as there have been none this week: as Todd says, we’ve been crossing in the mails, aided by the fact it takes longer for letters to get from there to here than from here to there. Cest la Post!

Love to all~
Bruce

Here is the map I drew:

My Hand Drawn Map

The map is deceiving, because there’s no scale. Where it says “much of Saigon not shown” is an understatement. From that point to Long Binh was about 20 miles or so.

More letters in a few days!

July 3, 2009

INFO

I presume my readers know that to keep up with this blog they have to click on the last listed entry over there at the right. This blog opens to the same page every time, so navigate to the latest if you are keeping up. Also, email addy is [email protected] and I am always pleased to hear from my readers.

MEDICAL UPDATE

I had my first and last post-op exam by the surgeon yesterday. He says I’m fine, and he’s right. I still have a little bit of soreness around a couple of the incisions, but I know this will go away. Altogether, the removal of my gall bladder was close to being a non-event!

MICHAEL JOE

I suppose way back somewhere I saw MJJ and thought it might be interesting to know more about him, particularly what he looked like sans clothing. But as for following his career or becoming any kind of MJJ groupie, it was not on. I don’t get along well with “Type A” individuals, and at least when on stage, MJJ struck me as a Type AAAA. And since I know nothing about dancing, his moves always looked frantic, often as if he was having a fit of some kind.

Somewhere along the line I did find a recording of his ballad, “She’s Outa My Life”, and I really liked it: I still play in now and then. But as time went on, there’s no denying MJJ got more than a little “strange”. The tragedy of his untimely demise lies in his inability to control his intake of drugs, and there was no one with enough power over him to stop the carnage until it was too late. I hope his tortured soul really is at rest now.

TATS

I’ve mentioned before that tattoos, generally, put me off. All this hype on TV, with entire series devoted to tats and tatters leaves me cold: many of the designs are over the top, and woe be unto any who decide they should be removed!

TANGLE WITH THE INFERNAL REVENUE SERVICE

Johnny and I bought a house together in 1962. We were both gainfully employed (he teaching, I an analytical chemist); it cost us $17,000. We worked it over, then traded up to something larger. But as it became apparent our relationship was going down in flames, one night in 1964, in a drunken rage he made me quit claim to the property and chased me out at knife-point. To make matters worse, he burned most of the deeds and other paperwork involved. Nevertheless, he was able to sell the place shortly thereafter (it was planned!) and pocketed about $40,000 . He drank that up in just a few years; but, I digress.

That year I filed my income tax and claimed a sizable loss on the property. Three years later, in 1967, the IRS objected, pointing out I had no proof: all that burnt paperwork came back to haunt me. The IRS concluded that I owed them the princely sum of $1800, and I was forced to agree that I did. I was willing to pay it, except that the IRS demanded I borrow the money from a bank at 8% interest. My position was the IRS was charging 6%, and there was no reason a bank should make money on my misfortune. [Imagine 8% interest at a bank in those days!}

The upshot was a series of meetings with low-level functionaries who tried to cajole me into taking out a loan. Throughout, I maintained that I would pay the amount owed, but over time, plus the 6%: there was enough “slop” in my budget that I could spare something each month: I was pretty much living from paycheck to paycheck, as my salary was not all that great. But, the IRS would have none of it, and the more they pushed, the more stubborn I got. I quickly realized they have no ability to deal with someone who simply says “no” and refuses to budge. I used to load up on aspirin: I was like a zombie, and no matter what they offered, my answer was consistently “NO”.

Someone told me I could take a person with me to those meetings, and did not even have to introduce them. The theory was that if there was a witness to their coercive tactics, they would not be applied. So I set it up with a friend of mine: he was a large fellow, a clerk in a dime store, but he had one good suit and an imposing cough. The IRS would harangue, I would say something like I was going to yield, and Jim would cough loudly: then I would say NO! It drove the poor interviewer nuts, but got us nowhere.

Another time, after several guys had taken turns at me, I decided to “lose it”: without warning I jumped up and shouted loudly, “Why don’t you guys just take me out in the hall and shoot me? Put an end to all this shit.” (And so forth) Jeezus! We were in a room full of cubicles, so everyone  heard me, and for a moment, I thought they might take my recommendation! Such a hub-bub. But it got us nowhere.

Then there was the day we finally came to some sort of agreement, and the interviewer wrote it up long-hand on a special pad with carbon-paper (remember carbon-paper?) and told me to sign it. I was about to, when I noticed printed boldly along the bottom, this line:

THIS AGREEMENT IS NOT LEGALLY BINDING ON ANY OF THE SIGNATORIES HERETO

Say what? They explained that was to protect their interest so if I were to have a wind-fall, they could take their share out of it. I explained that it was no contract at all, and tore it up and threw the fragments at them. Whooooie! They were pissed!

The resolution came when I decided to devote an entire day to getting this thing off my back. When I reached an impasse with the first interviewer, I demanded to see his Supervisor. When I got nowhere there, I demanded to see his Supervisor, and so on up the ladder. About five rungs up, I was allowed to explain the whole problem to a fellow sitting behind a desk: I repeated my offer to pay over time with their 6% interest.

“That sounds reasonable to me,” he said. He wrote it up, and it was a done deal I’d won!

DISILLUSIONED

The whole mess with the IRS put me right off. Work was getting boring. Money was tight, especially with monthly payments to the IRS. I needed a change. One weekend I visited my older brother in Southern California, and was perusing ads in the LA Times. On a lark more than anything else, I responded to an opening for a chemist in VietNam, and promptly forgot about it.

Several months later, I got a call in my office: “Are you ready to go to VietNam?”

Well, no I wasn’t, but I quickly decided I sure as heck could be!

What happened next will be my next page.

April 12, 2009

If there is anyone following his blog, they know I have not posted for more than a month. Here are some of the reasons why:

• I work four days a week, 7 to noon, in my little repair shop.

• I read over 50 blogs each day.

• I edit a small quarterly magazine.

• I read several magazines each week, though I have long ago given up on newspapers. [Failing newspapers everywhere claim they are losing advertising revenue, yet every issue I ever saw in recent times was nearly all advertising and almost no news.]

• There are major renovations under way here at my house, with scaffolding up inside to reach the ceiling of the main stair-well. There has been damage there from many leaks over the years; a new roof and gutters last summer cured that problem, so now it is time to do those repairs. The house is a mess!

• Weather has allowed me to plant the vegetable garden in my back yard.

• I had the Chrysler out a couple of weeks back for the drive to Niles Canyon for the Spring Steam run. When the Chrysler is out of its garage, my little truck is in there. While there, the battery died. On the first try to get that corrected, the City was digging a big hole right in front of the garage. On the second try, my cell phone did not work (another dead battery!) so I could not call AAA. The third time around, everything worked and the cars got swapped.

Behind SP 2472 Entering Niles Canyon

(The steam trip was spectacular, as usual, on a fine spring day.)

• In an old house, there’s always something: two weeks ago I took something from under the kitchen sink and found it wet. Exploration quickly located a leaking cone-washer on the hot water service tube. Had I not shut the angle-stop, the tube would have popped out, and a major flood would have ensued. Another project for that afternoon. I had to go out and buy a new cone-washer because I could not find any in my basement assortment of goodies. (Later, I found I had plenty on hand: I just could not find them when I needed them.

• Before the scaffolding mentioned above could be set up, I had to remove (temporarily) the gas-light fixture from the second-floor newell-post. This should have been no problem: I have a box of old pipe fittings, where I was sure a 3/8″ cap could be found. But when I went for it, I suddenly remembered I had recycled that box of fittings in a clean-up campaign some months ago. So I had to go out and buy a new cap. This proves the old adage: Never throw anything away!

These are just some of the things that seem to interfere with getting on with my story. Meanwhile, a few items by way of sidelines that I found interesting:

PERFECTION

One of the essences of being gay, for me, has always been the glory of the male body. (Other men have them: I never did!) The internet allows me to view thousands of these each week, for which I am duly thankful. Now and then, something really spectacular shows up which I wish I could share with you,but I can’t.

A PRECIOUS COMMODITY

Here’s an exercise I suppose every guy has gone through at least once.

• The current estimated total population of the world (three figure accuracy):                   6,770,000,000

• Roughly half that population is male:                                                                                3,385,000,000

• About half these men are between 12 and 40 years old (my estimate):                           1,692,500,000

• In any given 24-hr period, half that group ejaculates on way or another:                           846,250,000

• On average, each ejaculation results in 3 cubic centimeters of semen:                       2,538,750,000 cc

• That’s 677,000 US Gallons!

In the days when I could, I produced my share of this stuff, and occasionally found someone willing to share it, or someone willing to share theirs. Following the admonition not to “spill my seed upon the ground”, I generally used an old towel or hanky.

But, here’s news:

Some of Semen’s Ingredients:

• Sugars:
1. Fructose – very sweet sugar, that occur in many fruits and honey and used as a preservative for foodstuffs and as an intravenous nutrient.

2. Sorbitol – found in various berries and fruits or prepared synthetically and used as a flavoring agent, a sugar substitute for people with diabetes, and a moisturizer in cosmetics and other products.

3. Inositol – preventing the collection of fats in the liver, as well as promoting healthy hair growth. It is also can be considered brain food, as the nutrient is necessary to properly nourish the brain.

• Proteins and amino acids:

1. Glutathione – involved in detoxification—it binds to toxins, such as heavy metals, solvents, and pesticides, and transforms them into a form that can be excreted in urine or bile. Glutathione is also an important antioxidant. In preliminary research, dietary glutathione intake from fruit and raw vegetables has been associated with protection against some forms of cancer.

2. Deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA) – nucleic acid that contains the genetic instructions used in the development and functioning of all known living organisms

3. Creatine – supplies energy for muscle contraction. Athletes need creatine supplements to make their muscles strong.

• Minerals:

1. Phosphorus – helps the body absorb calcium to make the bones stronger.

2. Zinc

3. Magnesium – helps maintain normal muscle and nerve function, keeps heart rhythm steady, supports a healthy immune system, and keeps bones strong. Magnesium also helps regulate blood sugar levels, promotes normal blood pressure, and is known to be involved in energy metabolism and protein synthesis

4. Calcium – makes the bones strong

5. Potassium – is essential for the normal growth of the body and for the replacement of worn-out tissues which depend upon the presence of this mineral.

• Vitamins:

1. Ascorbic acid (vitamin C) – can help a person look younger and more beautiful. It encourages growth of the protein chains in collagen, which is the main ingredient in all fibrous tissue. Fibrous tissue is your bone matrix, cartilage, tooth dentin (right under the enamel), skin, tendons, ligaments, and all other connective tissue. Collagen is what keeps your cells bound together.

2. Vitamin B12 – energy booster.

3. Choline – to sharpen the mind.

• Hormones:

1. Testosterone – promote sexual function and promote sex drive.

2. Prostaglandins – participate in a wide range of body functions such as the contraction and relaxation of smooth muscle, the dilation and constriction of blood vessels, control of blood pressure, and modulation of inflammation.

• Body by products:

1. Lactic acid – also known as “milk acid”.

2. Urea – fertilizer

3. Uric acid – a waste product that results from normal body processes and is also found in some foods.

4. Nitrogen – balance of nitrogen helps the muscle grow.

Here’s another way to put it:

Sperm Nutrition

As a chemist, my professional career, I find it appalling that we waste all this stuff! Imagine the fun involved in collection any given city’s normal production for a week: thousands of gallons of cum to be sent to a factory for separation and purification of these precious ingredients. The mind boggles!

MOVING ON

Wouldn’t you know? When I got to it, accessing the net today has been slower than molasses in winter! But, I promise to get back to my story real soon!

[email protected]

HUA HIN TO CHUMPHON

Map of Thailand

Wednesday
9 October 1968

Following an early breakfast (there is one restaurant in Hua Hin that specializes—if you can call it that—in European food) I got on the road about 7:30. The day was spectacular—but of course in the tropics a beautiful day can degenerate quickly into a dreadful one; even the smallest cloud can suddenly drop prodigious quantities of water, and if one happens to be in the way, one gets wet. Today however it rained only once, & I had no more stopped & put on my rain coat than I drove out of it & had to stop again and shed. Had I known, I wouldn’t have bothered with the coat at all. From Hua Hin the road moves inland, through a series of large fertile valleys. Pineapples, bananas & coconuts appear to be the principal crops. The road has some ups and downs, but not much, as the hills are all low, but craggy and very pretty.

South Thailand Countryside, 1968

Driving along, I noticed a hill with a radio transmitting tower on top. As the road up there was not gated, I drove up for a wonderful view. This composite view gives a good idea of how the lush Thai countryside looked. Another view is below:

Road to Chumphon, South Thailand, 1968

There being little to delay me (except one very large lizard—nearly two feet long—that was crossing the road, and which I coasted quite close to before it saw me and disappeared into the bushes) I made unusually good time, arriving at Chumphon just before 1 PM!! Now, Chumphon is a division-point on the RSR [Royal Siam Railroad], so most of my afternoon was spent in the rail yards—and much of this evening as well. I shot up most of a roll of film, losing (for sure) only one or two, I hope, when the camera jammed a bit. It rained around 4, so I took the opportunity to wash up and take the camera apart. These Kodak gadgets are as much glued together as held any other way; although I began the trip with a tube of glue, it long since sprang a leak & had to be discarded. So I had to scout around here and find some glue, which I managed alright, and the camera is now back together, its critical part cleaned of dirt & lubricated.

NOTE TO READERS: Like any other railroad division point, Chumphon was a busy place. The station and yards were then out of town a ways, up a gently sloping divided road. In the median-strip there were several preserved locomotives on permanent display: their running-lights were wired for electricity and lit up at night. It was a lovely scene, but wouldn’t you know: the two photos I took were ruined when the camera jammed. I doubt if there is any trace of those locomotives left now.

Locomotives in the wood-pile! Chumphon, 1968

Strange things happen to luggage on a motorbike. Everything packs down into remarkably little space in the course of a day, but once disturbed it can’t be put back again. Pills disintegrate unless packed very tightly with cotton. Some toilet-paper I used to pad my shaving gear in its little plastic box is now a mass of shredded paper. Plastic bottles can chafe on something & wear right through, and tooth-paste tubes will do the same. It can all get pretty messy!

Already a change in plans is contemplated, I can no longer resist and if all goes well, I shall take the 7 am train to Phunphin, hopefully returning the same day. Phunphin is a town I do not otherwise expect to reach, but of course that is not the real reason for going there! Since I don’t want to miss what looks like a lovely (perhaps wet, but lovely) mountainous crossing to Ranong  by moto, the train trip will be a round-trip side-trip. We’ll see how it goes. Unless I get to bed soon, I’ll never wake up in time, so…

More tomorrow,

Bruce

NOTE TO READERS: I am having some problems with the software, so will break this post now and continue on the next page. Please bear with me: I’m not much of a computer whiz at all. By the way: the big lizard was a Monitor Lizard, and the only one I saw!

My letter of September 27th, 1968 continued:

Since the border is officially closed, there isn’t much for the customs people there to do, & they had to spend nearly 1/2 hr looking for the tax stamps (about 3¢US) required on the paper-work for the motor! But, at length, I proceeded. From Aranya Pradet to the intersection with Hiway 33, there is no pavement, & what with recent rains, the road was pretty bad in spots—slippery and muddy. When I got to pavement (about 60 km) the machine was covered with red laterite mud; but I ran into another storm almost at once which washed the worst of that off very quickly. I sat this one [storm] out [in a bus shelter] with a family whose son spoke  fair English, & so passed a pleasant half hour or so. Pressing on, dodging a couple more storms, I reached Chachoengsao just at dusk, and checked into a brand-new hotel, where I had a very comfortable room for US$1.75. Not much edible food, though (had a bowl of Chok, the Thai version of Chinese Soup; it has every imaginable [& some unimaginable] thing in it) but it is not bad. The next AM Ieft about 7:30 & was just nicely under way, with nice warm sun & cool breeze, when I had the first flat tire of the trip. The stem pulled out of the “chambre d’air”—inner tube—and it went flat instantly. That took about 3/4 hr to fix by the road-side (I had a spare tube), & I then proceeded as before.

Flat Tire

BACKSTORY: Chachoengsao was a very frontier-ish sort of place. I met up with a group of pretty rough-looking guys who wanted me to take them to a movie: having nothing else to do, I did. The “theater” was a tent with some old wooden bleachers; the projector was an old 16mm, and the movie was an ancient US “western”. The boys—six of them with me—obligingly sat up on the rear-most seat, where it quickly became apparent some of them at least were horny: lots of clutching at their own crotches, a universal signal! With some trepidation I groped the boy nearest to me and found him hard. One thing led to another, as the old saying goes: in the end, we all jacked off together and left quite a mess behind. They all wanted to come to my hotel, but this I felt unwise, so when the movie was over I sent them on their way. It was cheap fun: the cost for the seven of us to watch the movie was less than a dollar!

The Thai’s drive on the left—which is a bit harrowing in itself, as I’m unfamiliar with that approach of course. They also drive like madmen, just as the Cambodians, but of course traffic is much heavier. One reaches the outskirts of Bangkok about 40 km out, and from there on traffic gets very heavy. I arrived about noon, wandered around till I found a reasonable hotel, took a nice lunch & flaked out for the afternoon!

I’ve decided to proceed to Singapore. This will take me down the Kra Isthmus, along the west coast of Malaysia, through Penang to Kuala Lumpur & eventually to Singapore. Depending on how my money lasts, I might go from there to Darwin, Australia, & by train from there to Melbourne (friends there, C&E people), but that is speculation. Accordingly, I put the Honda into the Agency Shop today for a check-up & engine overhaul: it has 7000 miles that I know of on it, maybe more, and this is the first place I’ve hit with a Honda-accredited repair team. Although the machine has run well, I want it to be in first-class shape for the next leg of the journey: it is 1000 miles, just to the Thai border, almost as far as Kuala Lumpur, and about half that to S-pore! So I shall have a week or two here in BK—about all I want, I think—it has all the modern conveniences, and all the modern ills, such as smog!

BACKSTORY: When I departed VN, my vague plan was to go north from Bangkok, across Burma, and across India. My brother, Todd, had done this ten years earlier, traveling by air and train, and had found Burma particularly agreeable. However, ten years later, Burma was (then as now) firmly closed. Southward lay Singapore…

Am having photos developed & printed; they should be ready (if the camera worked) to enclose with this letter in a few days.

BK has marvelous old (French) street-cars! Not many, but they must constitute some of the oldest rolling-stock in the world apart from the cable-cars in San Francisco!!

More later,

Bruce

BACKSTORY: Fond of streetcars anywhere, I rode the old cars in BK several times. The tracks ran along the sides of the streets, a few feet from the edge of the sidewalk: people parked their cars right on the tracks, which brought the old trams to a halt with much clanging and shouting. We often had to wait for some time before parked cars were moved. It was apparent these trams served only a few folks and were utterly out-of-place in Bangkok, trying its best to modernize. Little did I know!

The letter was continued on the 29th:

Why-why-why? do tourists insist on traveling with little children? I’ve met a number of travelers  poking around with under-2 year-olds with them. Not to mention the expense, there is an awful burden on themselves and others, and all it does for the child is to enable him to say in the future, “I was in wherever when I was a year and a half old and I don’t remember anything about it.”

I watched, fascinated sort of by the contrast, as a Dutch couple eating in a nearby restaurant spent all their attention on their little boy, harnessed into a chair; special food, heated in the kitchen just for them, special spoon, etc., etc., etc. (And mama & papa had to order for themselves something not on the menu).  Two tables away was a Thai family, with a littler little boy, who sat unassisted & fed himself from portions of the same food his parents were eating. No fuss.

Children grow up rapidly in the orient and they learn much more in the process—at least as much about living—than american children. Parents start their children walking as soon as they are weaned or before; toilet training the same time: I can’t see that either hurts the kids any. It is frequently astonishing to see the things small children do here—even hard work—without complaint.

Caught a small cold (air-conditioning territory again!) so have been rather sluggish. Besides, the Moto being in the shop means walking, which is OK except that BK is a big place. Took in Dusit Zoo (nearby) today; quite a good zoo, & very popular (on Sunday) place to go. Tomorrow I have to go to the airport, pick up and re-pack my bag there are and ship it on—I think now I’ll just send it on to Robb, since I can’t imagine having any use for the stuff in it for quite a while.

BACKSTORY: There really was a time when one could pack a suitcase and send it anywhere in the world as “unaccompanied baggage”. This was very handy, and you could arrange to have your baggage at your destination even before you got there! In my case, I had sent a bag from Vietnam to Bangkok, thinking at the time I might settle in, or get work in, Bangkok. I quickly decided this was not to be, so shipped the bag on home via by Brother, Robb. Getting the bag out of customs at the airport involved a little money under the table, of course, but I had become so used to this in VN that I thought nothing of it.

Bangkok is expensive. I want to take one of the bus tours in the next day or two, & then press on fairly soon. One sees in Bangkok a preview of what Saigon will be like ten years from now, and frankly it isn’t all that pretty. Grinding poverty in the very shadow of splendor; gawdawful traffic, & smog at times; very little of Thai culture—and much of the bastardized american-thai substitute.

The Thais do have what must be the most lavishly decorated trucks and busses, though. Most start life as a Mercedes or Toyota 1½ or 2½ T chassis. The bodies (except cab) seem to be built locally, mostly out of wood, all carefully finished and polished. The whole is decorated with vast amounts of chrome trim, with hammered designs, and (fake) rivet-heads running in rows everywhere; also popular are painted scenes in little chrome frames tacked on here and there. To all this is added rows of colored lights all over the place, so at night it all looks like a moving giant Xmas tree. (And I do mean Xmas!)

Curiously, one’s surroundings change quickly after crossing into Thailand. Of course, this is emphasized by the border being closed, hence the Thai and Khmer cultures do not mix. Thai homes are built of wood, on or very near, the ground & not raised up 10-12 feet as are Khmer homes. Bangkok is largely built of wood, & there are large fires at times (I see the remains of one in some shops just down the street from this hotel). One leaves French behind quite rapidly, too, at the border; not nearly as many people speak English as the booklets say, though. Street signs are frequently nonexistent &  it is a hard city to get around in. The layout is odd, & compounded by one-way streets, traffic-circles & such. Driving on the left still seems odd—I suppose it will for quite a while—but I’ll have that from here on, so I’d better catch on. Making a right turn against oncoming traffic becomes precisely the problem that making a left is in the states.

Enclosed photos better than I’d expected!

Much love to all,

Bruce

Buddhist Temple, 1968

Buddhist temples like this are everywhere in Thailand. This was one of the first I encountered, so I snapped a photo because the weather was fine. Of Bangkok itself, I got no pictures: the reason will become apparent in future letters.

Stay tuned!

Bangkok, Thailand: 27 September (I think!) 1968

Dear Everybody~

After 7 wonderful days in Siem Reap (1 out for Battambang), I departed 25 Sept about 8 am. Siem Reap turned out to be one of the cheapest places I’ve been—7 days, most meals at the Hotel all for $35.00—one of the first times I’ve actually achieved living for $5.00/day! Despite the intense tourist flow (at its lowest ebb in September, thank goodness) Siem Reap is very little spoilt: the relaxed rural atmosphere pervades the town in spite of all the hullaballoo of tourism. Most of the hotels are out of town a bit, which doubtless has something to do with it. But I’ve never relaxed so well as I did here, and I truly hated to leave. As is customary, I wrote a letter to Prince Sihanouk praising the country and the people (and indirectly, him): it was not empty praise, for my 20-day 2800 km tour of Cambodia was a most pleasant & memorable experience.

Seeing Cambodia in its relatively pristine beauty (especially after witnessing the mess in VN, and now that I’ve arrived in Bangkok) makes me feel Sihanouk is right in not wanting his country occupied by Americans. As for its (Cambodia) being a “haven for the VC” I see no evidence to support this, and indeed, much to the contrary. In the provinces near the border the National Police & Army keep things under pretty close watch: I went through a number of these check-points (where the police, astonished by my appearance, were nonetheless unfailingly kind and helpful).

Returning to Siem Reap from Battambang I got a chance to assist a family having trouble with their Corvair (Chevy) automobile—that silly fan-belt arrangement. Getting them on their way eased my conscience, since every time I stopped to rest my machine or myself in Cambodia, someone invariably stopped to make sure I was not broken down & in need of help. This sort of friendliness is all too rare in the world, and it was most refreshing!

BACKSTORY: The folks with the Corvair had passed me at a high rate of speed, nearly blasting me off the highway with the electric-air horn everyone seemed to have in those days. Anywhere else, I have given them the finger, but as I was a guest… Anyway, somewhat further on I began to smell something “hot”: I check the bike carefully, and nothing was wrong, but as I continued on, the smell became more and more noticeable. Presently, as I came around a corner, there it was: the Corvair with its rear boot open, and lots of smoke emanating from it. The Corvair rear-engine Chevy had a fan-belt that ran over four pulleys so it could turn 90º, and it was always a source of trouble on those cars. When the belt wore out or flipped off, the air-cooled engine quickly overheated. I pulled up behind the stricken car just in time to prevent the owner from pouring a bucket of water on the engine (which would surely have cracked something critical by cooling it too rapidly). Using only sign-language, I made it clear he should wait until the engine had cooled naturally before putting on a new belt (which he had). I stayed with it until I could put my hand on the engine without getting burned, then went on my way. Before long I was overtaken, again with a blast of the air-horn, but this time with much waving and many smiles.

Well, as I said, I departed Siem Reap regretfully about 8, and got to Sisiphon & a bit beyond before encountering the first storm. I could have out-run it, except that the road was in poor shape in many spots, so suddenly I was right IN it; stopped at a check-point where I was graciously received—given the only chair in the hut and a beer. The storm passed on, and after about ½ hour I was able to proceed the remaining short distance to the “frontier”. Formalities there took about 10 minutes on the Cambodian side, and about 1½ hrs on the Thailand side; meanwhile more rain.

BACKSTORY: When the rain hit, I pulled up under a large tree to seek whatever shelter it offered, quite unaware that nearby there was a bivouac of Cambodian soldiers. They had a semi-permanent set-up of tents over wooden platforms. There were perhaps a dozen of them, and they traipsed out to greet me, all smiles: I suppose very little in the way of anything happened out there, since the road led to a closed border, so my appearance must have “made their day”. They gave me their “place of honor”, and the first Singha beer I ever drank. Conversation was greatly limited, but as was the case everywhere, they were polite and charming. Once the rain stopped, I went on my way, probably leaving them to discuss my incursion for many days. Who knows? I may have been the subject of an “Official Report”!

(This letter will be continued with the Thailand portion of this blog, yet to come)

REFLECTIONS ON CAMBODIA

The three weeks I spent touring Cambodia were some of the best weeks of my life up to that point, and they rate high in my all-time list as well. I was treated with respect, kindness, and warmth without fail wherever I went in that lovely country, and of course, seeing and poking around in the temples at Angkor was an unforgettable experience.

Cambodia was a country at peace. Granted, the Khmers and the Thais and the Laos and the Viets have been at each other through the ages, but the borders in place when I was there were generally respected (the border with Thailand was closed, although I did cross it). One feature of Cambodia then was that there was no poverty and no begging and no thievery: none! I met a couple touring from Holland, who went off on a bus tour of several days’ duration and realized too late they had l left an expensive camera at the restaurant they’d eaten in the night before leaving. Just on a chance that the camera had been found, they returned to the restaurant when they got back to Phnom Penh, and found the camera exactly where they had left it, untouched! They were greatly impressed!

I mentioned earlier the State magazine; in the english edition I found letters published, written to Norodom Sihanouk. These were from travelers who commented on whatever they had seen while in Cambodia. So, one of the last things I did before departing Siem Reap was to write my own note to the Head of State, telling him how favorably impressed I was with Cambodia. Whether the letter was published I will never know, but to my surprise, I received a reply from Mr. Sihanouk, send through diplomatic pouch to the UN and mailed from New York!

Letter from Norodom Sihanouk, January 1968

Later on, I sent him a copy of the general letter I wrote to “all”, relating my trip, and received another reply from Mr. Sihanouk. His reply makes it clear he had read the letter in some detail.

Letter from Norodom Sihanouk, October 1968

Following my trip through SE Asia, I wound up working in Australia for a while (as will be recounted in due course); upon my return to the US in mid 1970, I was appalled to see on the TV places I had been in Cambodia being bombed to smithereens when “tricky dick” Nixon widened the already-doomed Vietnam war into Cambodia. Once again, I wrote to Mr. Sihanouk expressing my shock and regret over what had transpired: I addressed the letter simply to “Norodom Sihanouk, Peking, China”, as I had learned he had retreated there. Without a more specific address, I expected no reply, but to my surprise, he answered the letter by telegram!

“Please accept my thanks for your friendly letter stop cordial consideration”

The destabilization of Cambodia brought about by Nixon’s illegal incursion into a sovereign nation should have brought impeachment, but it did not. And the rest, as they say, is “history”—a horrible history, as it turned out, for whom no one has ever really been called to account. The wonderful Cambodia I found in 1968 no longer exists, although the monuments at Angkor do.

Cover of Guide to Angkor Which I Used

NOTE TO READER(S): I will be away for several weeks on a trip to Pennsylvania and back. I will resume blogging when I am back home in San Francisco. Thailand was my next adventure.

Everything up to this point had gone too smoothly! I felt it wise to arrive at the airport well before departure time. Just after lunchtime, I rode to Tan Son Nhut and stopped outside the compound. There, I drained what little fuel remained in the tank, then walked the bike into the passenger terminal. I was able to take one picture as the Air VN chaps assisted me:

Tan Son Nhut Compound

beyond this point all photos were forbidden.

Getting out of Vietnam in those days was complicated by the currency restrictions. After relinquishing the bike, and presenting my ticket

Air Vietnam Ticket

everything was in order. The bike disappeared, my luggage as well. The next step was to convert money. Whatever MPCs and Dongs I had I turned in for US Green: not a lot, less than a hundred dollars as I recall. Henceforth I expected to rely on travelers checks.

The last step was emigration, where I presented my passport and ticket, which the Officer examined closely. He then said, “You can’t go.”

“Why not?”

“Your ticket is to Phnom Penh, but the Exit Visa reads to USA.”

I knew there was no arguing, so simply retrieved my documents, stepped back, and joined the throng in the waiting room. When I got near the main entrance, I stepped out and hailed a taxi. I waved a $20 US under the driver’s nose and said, “get me to Immigration!”

Mind you, had I been stopped for any reason, having a wad of Green on me would have been difficult to explain and would likely have landed me in jail!

There followed a wild ride across Saigon: the taxi driver wanted that 20 bucks, but when we got to Immigration I held the money and told him to wait. I knew he would!

Inside, I found a fellow at a long counter who asked what assistance I needed. Fortunately, he spoke english, so I was able to show the documents and explain the problem. He rummaged around under the counter, pulled up a carton full of papers, and pawed through them: before long, he came up with the form I had prepared long-hand for PA&E; attached to it was the typed form some harried secretary at PA&E had copied. My long-hand version showed Cambodia, but the typed version showed USA. Since I was probably the only american who had ever left VN to go to Cambodia (virtually all US employees went back to the US) it was an easy mistake for her to make.

Examining the papers, the fellow said, “I can see how that happened, and I can fix it.” He picked up a pen, annotated the passport with a “(1)” next to USA, and wrote above “(1) via Cambodge”. With a chop, the deed was done. I thanked him profusely. He did not ask for payment, and he got only my everlasting gratitude!

Exit Visa Saigon

(Arrows point to the critical additions.)

Needless to say, the taxi was waiting, and I got a second wild ride across Saigon, where I was able to “infiltrate” the crowd and eventually present my documents once again to the Officer. He studied them intently, but finally said, “I’ll never know how you did that, but I cannot stop you now.” He added the exit chop and waved me through into the waiting area. I had at least an hour to kill before the plane was to leave!

The bike was loaded after I got on the plane, so I did not know with certainty that it was with me until I saw it off-loaded at Pochentong. I snapped one photo from the plane, which I did not expect to come out at all. Oddly enough after all these years, I can scan that photo and just use an enhancement in the scanner to bring it out better than it actually is!

Vietnam from the Air

The white spots are clouds, but the strips in the center near the bottom are recent strafing-runs.

It isn’t far from Saigon to Phnom Penh—about 180 miles—so the flight was short. There were very few passengers aboard. I snapped a photo of the tower at Pochentong as we taxied in,

Tower at Pochentong

then dashed off the plane in time to get a shot of the guys unloading the motorcycle.

Unloading the Motorcycle

I was finally out of Vietnam! Let the adventures begin!

But first, I had to get the cycle out of Customs. I left it behind and took a bus into town: it was growing late, I was tired, and I figured I could go back the next day and retrieve the machine.

Yeah, right!

Stay tuned!

LOOKING BACK

I feel obliged to post a brief discussion about my experience in Vietnam, looking back after 41 years that have elapsed since I departed.

In many—most, in fact—ways, I had it easy. I was not in the military, I saw no combat, and I suffered no  damage. I never got further from Saigon than Long Binh, not even to Vung Tao, even then reputed to have some nice beaches. On many days in Saigon, one could easily forget there was a war going on as the local folk went about their daily business: take away the jeeps and duece-and-a-halfs, and Saigon could be pretty much like any other city in the orient at that time.

What bothered me most was how hopelessly incompetent most of the americans I worked with were! One could forgive the mil pers: they had no training in insurgency or jungle warfare, most were draftees who would much rather have been elsewhere. They were paid a pittance, considering what they had to do. Many were from the US deep south, and were basically racist pigs: their understanding of and behavior towards the Viets was appalling. None spoke, or even tried to speak, Vietnamese; they were frustrated when Viets did not speak english; and they generally referred to them as “gooks” and other disgusting epithets. The women and girls were fair game for rape and worse, and the goal of most enlisted men was to climb high enough in the army to get out of the EM barracks and into a shack job.

But the civilian crew with whom I had the most contact (being one myself) were just as bad: in many ways, they were worse, because supposedly they  ere “professionals”, there to do a job, and handsomely paid for it. The few I met who actually tried to get something done were snowed under with regulations and paperwork. But most of the civilians I met were dead-beats uninterested in work, more interested in a cushy shack-up and fat salary to augment their retirement pay (usually from the military).

For the guys who actually fought on the ground, I had and still have the greatest admiration. Their job was not easy, and was made far worse by the stupidity of the generals in charge, most of them comfortably ensconced with a local female who waited on them hand and foot. The “grunts”—ill-trained, ill-prepared and often just plain ill—were just cannon-fodder. On unfamiliar soil, unable to know what was going on right under their noses (because none spoke the language), they were up against a force which knew the territory, spoke the language and could not readily be identified as friend or foe. It was one fucked-up mess, and I met almost no one in country who was not willing to admit, with a little “lubrication”, the whole exercise was an abysmal failure.

Of the Viets, on the other hand, I had the highest admiration. To me, trying my best to behave like a guest in the country (which I was) the Viets I met were unfailingly polite, helpful when needed, charming and often very nice to look at. Using the most basic elements of “being nice”, I found, would get me anything I wanted. Most often, a simple smile was all it took, and (as will be seen shortly) I a few situations developed where the typical “ugly american” approach would have gotten me nowhere. The Viets worked hard, put up with our presences generally with a stoicism that amazed me. Somehow, using back-street machine-shops, they kept the taxis and cyclos and motorcycles—at least 3 million of them—running. in my book, the Vietnamese populace deserved far better  treatment, both from their own government and from ours, than they got.

What saddens me most now is that we ought to have learned something from our collective experience in Vietnam, but subsequent history proves we did not. Since 1975 there has come the first Gulf War, which may well stand in history as our last “successful” campaign. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were ginned-up by a fake warrior who had never seen actual combat, who had the brains of an idiot, and whose second-in-command was a conscienceless manipulator. Whether we get ourselves out of these countries intact remains to be seen.

LOOKING AHEAD

The appearance of this blog will change slightly: armed with a camera, I set out from Saigon to see more of Southeast Asia by motorcycle, and arrived nine weeks and 5003 miles later in Singapore—beyond which one does not go far on a motorcycle, unless it has pontoons! On a world map, it looks quite insignificant: basically, I drove around the gulf of Tonkin. I had a grand time!

I did keep a diary, at least as far as Penang. But I used my diary to prepare some long letters which have survived. I’ll use a combination of these sources, along with my fertile memory, to let you in on some of the events along the way. The pictures will trigger many memories for me to share with you.

However, getting OUT of Vietnam turned out to be more difficult than planned: I’ll describe that in the next page.

In the meantime, here’s my visa for Cambodia. Presumably all systems were “go”.  I hadn’t reckoned on PA&E’s penchant for screwing up!

Cambodia Entry visa

The saga continues next page.

Once I was able to get a typewriter, my letters from Vietnam were sent to the family using carbon-copies, so everyone would be up to date. I tried not to send all-carbons to any one address, so different members would have to wade through the 4th carbon fuzziness from time to time. This means that the surviving letters (which Dad kept) are a mix of different “layers”. OCR software works on the originals well; on the second carbons less well, on the third carbons poorly, and on the 4th carbons not at all!

The first letter in this group survived as a fourth carbon, so it had to be keyed in. Due to some annoying problems with my computer, I ended up losing some files, and wound up keying in this letter no less than four times!

Oh, well: being retired, I have the time to deal with these annoyances. So, on with it!

BB

_____________________

Sunday, 23 June 1968

Dear Everyone~

It has been a week and a half since I wrote last, but so little has happened that there was no reason to waste paper! Life continues pretty much as it has right along. The curfews are back to 2100 to 0600 in most areas of Saigon, which allows somewhat more movement. But the VC continue to shell the city from time to time. Presumably, Cho Lon and Gia Dinh are now cleaned out, partly because of the big defection of around a hundred and a half of VC who were surrounded there. You all know as much as I do about the Paris “peace” talks, and for that matter, as much as I do about the election campaign at home. I may be the only “hawk” that votes for McCarthy in November (assuming he’s nominated!)—but nothing any of the other candidates has said impresses me at all. The June Playboy interview with Galbraith I find very enlightening: with men like him in the background of politics, it’s hard to see how we’ve managed to get into this mess.

There is nothing new at the job. I was informed last Saturday by the great white papa-san (Dan Smythe) that I am not in the FY1969 manning table: this really doesn’t mean a great deal, except that there is a good likelihood I might be declared surplus (which would be MOST astute of the personnel dept). Rumors continue that Dan is going for at least a leave July 1: HE says he will be back—CMO says he won’t. We’ll see, but I’d bet on Dan anytime against CMO, which is about as totally disorganized an organization as you could ever hope (or have the misfortune) to find.

I spent the better part of today fussing with my Honda—it had begun rather abruptly to run quite badly. It seemed to be a carburetor problem, so I cleaned that thoroughly: no improvement. Then I go indications the battery was weak, so I replaced that: no improvement. Went back to the carburetor, and suddenly found that an extra spring had been added to the throttle arrangement—for reasons unknown—that interfered with proper operation: threw out the spring, and voila! Runs like a Honda ought. Friend and I tried to visit the Botanical Gardens/Zoo in the afternoon, but couldn’t get near the place. It is closed, and under heavy guard, as it offers a nice infiltration route (from across the Saigon River, which it borders). Xin Loi—another time, perhaps!

Some hip-nik burned his draft card in the park in front of the Assembly Bldg a couple of days ago. He was speedily arrested by a heavily armed Sgn Police detail. He was shortly thereafter released. The news papers report that the american Vice Consul had determined that his residence visa was about to expire, and “would not be renewed”.

There is nothing the Vietnamese fear more than a withdrawal of US forces: in the long run, there is probably nothing that would do them more good, however, since it would then be up to them to preserve the country—if enough of them decide it is worth it. The Thieu government is all too ready to “let George (the US) do it”—until we do something they don’t like. Our exclusion of the Sgn government in Paris is seen as a heavy-handed slap in the face, and recent talks about recognizing the NLF is almost more than Thieu can bear. If we keep it up, he may ask us to LEAVE!!!

That does it for the week: Love to all, of course~

Bruce

The situation in Iraq is redolent with the flavor of that last paragraph, written from Vietnam 40 years ago!

Temple at the Saigon Zoo

I did eventually get into the Saigon Zoo. This temple was part of it, but closed.

Monkey at the Saigon Zoo, 1968

This might have been a VC monkey! We’ll never know!

Sunday, 7 July 68
Dear Everyone~

Two uneventful weeks have passed since I last wrote. There have been no further rocket attacks on Saigon since 11 June: thank goodness those who suggested this represents a “de-escalation” by the North have been silenced. It is no such thing! It represents intensive efforts by all concerned to sweep the 6-8 mile perimeter of Saigon to destroy all rocket launching sites and caches of rockets. Am impressive number of them were turned up—over thirty in one cache alone, found July 3, all with fuses inserted. It was assumed these were to have been fired as a fourth of July “celebration”. . .

The government asserts that all persons made homeless during the Tet Offensive now have been re-located. So have many—but not all—of the May 5 campaign’s victims.

Dan Smythe ACTUALLY left the country on July 3—but he will be back in two weeks. I spent a Saturday a week ago at CMO trying to locate the bottleneck in the lab program—and uncovered so many that there is really no reason to hope for anything. The entire company seems almost paralyzed right now—everyone is in fear that he might get surplused, and so much time is spent pulling strings and doing all sorts of finagling to avoid getting dumped that no other work gets done at all.

For reasons beyond comprehension, the Qui Nhon Area portion of PA&E’s contract with the [US] government was split off this year and made an entirely separate affair. Because it was put out for bid, the company bid very “tight” in order to keep the contract: but this meant reducing salaries, which they did (illegally)—and promptly lost nearly one third of their people. As usual, the people with any brains at all “pulled the pin” (i.e., quit), while the dead-beats who didn’t realize what was happening stayed on. . .

Now, PA&E’s R&U contract in the remaining areas of VN is a “negotiated” contract: these are the best kind, because they’re not put out for bid, but are simply renewed (with some changes) from year to year as long as performance meets some sort of (usually low) standards. So the contract under which I was hired apparently has been renewed, but the changes are mainly in the manning table (from which my job has been deleted). It still remains to be seen what effect this will have, as the CMO is still snowed under with processing out the QN people. It may well be another month or two before I learn anything. Rumors are legion, of course, but most of them aren’t to be believed. To help keep busy I’ve been helping Personnel out with some of the mounds of paperwork that changing contracts entails. Technically, everyone is terminated and re-hired, which requires the preparation of a supporting document. We have somewhere between 1400 and 1500 Vietnamese employees at LB—and that’s about as close a count as one can ever get from the paper, because there’s a constant turnover.

There’s really not enuf more news to justify another sheet of paper—and it’s late, so I’ll close this and prepare for beddy-byes—and for another dull day. Cheers to all, wherever you are.

Luv~
Bruce

__________________

Sunday PM, 14 July 1968

Dear all~

A nice cool rain has just stopped falling outside as I begin this letter. This has been (I’m told) a very dry year—usually by this time we should be having rain nearly all day and night. But thus far it has been only one or two short storms each day, and the real drenchers are yet to come, I guess.

The situation in Saigon is tense. There seems to be a good deal of intelligence to support the theory that another attack on Saigon is imminent. There was a short bit of gunplay near here last night, but it turned out to be a group of inebriated Philipino soldiers settling an argument, and had nothing to do with the VC. Similarly, a large fire last night in a powerplant apparently was unrelated to the war. Several days ago, however, an american was killed by “sappers” in Cho Lon, so it is confirmed that there are still terrorists in the city: how many or how well armed is anybody’s guess.

There have been a couple of worthwhile articles in recent magazines that (if you haven’t read them) I recommend. In order of appearance, the Galbraith interview in June Playboy was, I thought, excellent: I marvel that with people of his erudition lurking in the background of politics, we nonetheless manage to get into messes like this one here. Then there is the article (I believe it was in Sat Eve Pest, maybe Look) by Wm. Lederer—the title was something like “The other war in Vietnam”, but I’ve forgotten it exactly. And then there appeared the Fullbright interview—no, article—in the July Playboy. There is a lot of meat in what he says—and the hopeful sign to me is that he is saying it!

The Lederer article is unnerving. Every bit of it—and a whole lot more  is true. Without trying, even someone as ingenuous as I has managed to stumble across many examples of the “smaller potatoes” sort of hanky-panky that goes on over here. But the un-real part of it is that, as Lederer points out several times, the official reason given for condoning corruption here is that “we are guests here, and do not want to ‘offend’ the Vietnamese”. Now, as a policy I think this is admirable enough—if it were actually applied. But instead, it has resulted in our not “offending” only the crooks and profiteers, who constitute a tiny segment of the population, while DEEPLY offending the larger part of the populace who, in the end, suffer inflation and other ills as a direct result of it all. Our policy has resulted in protection for an undesirable element in VN that we OUGHT to be trying to eradicate. Of course, who are we to cast any stones at VN racketeers when most of the training has come from us?

Even worse, the policy of not offending the VNese, fails almost totally to filter down to the rank-and-file population—the average “Nguyens on the street”—who every day are victim to some of the most outrageous behaviour. Unfortunately, our deeply rooted racism, under so strong attacks at home, has been transported here intact. The results are frequently appalling. I suppose it is an impossible task to screen military and civilians over here to determine their suitability to being temporarily transported into an alien culture: there is also almost no attempt to assess the behavior of those who are here, and return those who don’t measure up to some sort of standard. There aren’t any standards, either—unless one considers the largely ignored UCMJ.

Item: a couple of weeks ago, as we were proceeding to Long Binh in our leased Vietnamese bus, some idiot american riding in the back of a jeep tried to force his way past our bus by, first, shouting obscenities at the occupants, and then brandishing his .38 at our driver, who (understandably) nearly dumped us all in the ditch when he ducked. This slob hadn’t reckoned on americans being on that bus, and I expect he was surprised later that day when the MPs picked him up (traced by his vehicle number) with no less than four signed “reports” on the incident. The only logical place for this sort is the front lines: but unless they send him home (which is doubtful)—and heaven knows another trigger-happy nut is just what is needed there—he’ll probably get a reprimand and maybe a pay cut.

Item: last week, one of our VN employees was returning to Saigon after work, riding his motorbike, when he was flipped off into the ditch by a GI driving a 2½T truck. Unlike most GI’s who do this, this one obligingly stopped his machine—and went back to the injured man, whom he threatened shoot, and then left the helpless man as he was and drove away. MPs subsequently got the poor fellow to a hospital (it will cost a small fortune of the US tax dollars to patch him up), but could not get the GI, as the man had not been able to see the vehicle number.

The above are strong examples, repeated daily. Then number of lesser inconsiderateness—simple impoliteness, rudeness, etc., etc.,—couldn’t be calculated, but one has to be blind to fail to see dozens of examples every day.

Rocky has just announced his “four points for peace”—but has not made clear how he intends to secure the cooperation of the NVN and VC in the enterprise. At this juncture, I am much inclined to feel that unless we are willing to make fundamental changes in our modus operandi here, a pullout would really be better: either way (that is, if we do leave, or if we stay under the present circumstances) the local population is going to suffer great hardship. The parallels between French imperialism and american imperialism are so clear that multitudes of people might welcome communism—if only in the feeble hope that it might be different.

Confucius is reputed to have made up the saying that a picture is worth a thousand words: many more than that could well caption the “joke” in July Playboy showing the baby crawling in front of the TV set.

It is curious that the last rocket attack on Saigon coincided exactly with Westmoreland’s departure. His parting words were that there was very little that could be done to stop it. Yet, under Abrahms it has been stopped (perhaps not permanently, though this remains to be seen). An intensive and expensive sweep of the 6-8 mile perimeter around Sgn has netted a prodigious quantity (in excess of 1700) rockets, mortars and similar weapons. Westy’s exit flourish (the rocketing is not militarily significant) was incredulously received here, because it was obvious to the Vietnamese (but apparently not to Westy) that the rocketing was not really a military operation anyhow; rather, it was intended to be a psychologically disruptive maneuver. As such, it was remarkably unsuccessful; there was little panic, no sudden capitulation, no collapse of government. Perhaps the VC gave up the rocketing because it was too expensive in light of the lack of results, along with the pressure imposed by capture of many of their weapons. At any rate, it appears that getting Westy out of the picture was a wise move, as he seemed to have become blinded to some pretty obvious facts.

My trip to and through Cambodia has not been entirely abandoned. I find there is no trouble at all in getting the necessary tourist visa, good for three weeks. A simple form (only ONE copy!), a photo, and a valid passport will get one in less than 24 hours. I am only waiting to see if PA&E won’t make it possible to make it a one-way trip. Intelligence seems to indicate that they will before long. It’s a waiting game, and I may not be able to wait it out, but only time will tell, I guess.

That wraps up the latest report from Vietnam.

Cheers to all~

Bruce

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I’m not getting much feed-back from this blog: perhaps readers are as bored with it as I was with my “job” in Vietnam! Comments are welcome at [email protected]