M Y O B

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.

NEXT

BANGKOK to HUA HIN

The arrow indicates 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.

RSR Locomotive No. 882

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!

NEXT

July 27, 2009
Before I continue my saga, there’s a couple of things to mention:

NATURE BOY

The response to this latest of my stories has been quite phenomenal: many have written to me about it, and all have urged me to continue it. So, I am doing so. It will be a while before it is ready to put up on Nifty, so keep your eyes open there.

BACK TO MY LETTERS FROM VIETNAM

Saturday, 10 February 68

Dear Folks,

Things are slowly (very slowly) getting back to normal. The general feeling is that another VC attack may come at any time, but so far it’s fairly quiet, and normal routines are being re-established. I’ve managed to get out to Long Binh twice this week, and tomorrow I and several others are moving out of this flea-bag flop-house to the Loc Building, where we were originally billeted and from which we were so summarily “evacuated” because of the stupidity of a minority of our group. Now that the group has been dispersed somewhat on assignments, we’re free to go where we choose. The Loc Building is as secure as any place in town—more-so in some ways. Until the curfews are entirely lifted and a normal way of life results, I expect I’ll stay at the Loc Building. My address, of course, for mailing purposes remains the same and will for some while.

I’ve even driven out to Long Binh twice in the vehicle assigned to me. I had the foresight before I left to pay $3.00 for an international drivers’ license, which many people do not have here. Driving is pretty hectic, what with the incredible traffic load, which is still not back to its usual levels because of curfews. Then, too, there are numerous ARVN & white mice check-points. Of course, if one is courteous and uses the usual hand signals, there’s no problem. The guys who drive here and get into trouble are inevitably the ones who drive as if they owned the place, which (naturally enough) displeases the Vietnamese. I’ve had no difficulty so far. The most important rule, of course, is to abandon any hope of getting anywhere by a specific time—one has to move at the traffic’s pace, whether that be dead stand-still (as it frequently is) or a snail’s-pace crawl, as is more usual. In town, it’s rare to get the truck into third gear!

I’ve only spent a couple of days at Long Binh, so haven’t been fully able to psych out  the situation. Everything has been so discombobulated by the VC attacks that normal routines (which are nearly always chaotic anyhow) still haven’t been pieced back together. Communication is a great problem, and there are still people unaccounted for. Because of the curfews, very few Vietnamese are available to work, so the lower echelon assistants just aren’t there. Curfews are being extended & ended & lifted in various precincts from time to time, but as there are still parts of town (notably Cho-lon & the Phu Tho rare-track) that are hot-beds of VC activity, the populace has to be restricted in its mobility The clippings enclosed will give you some idea of present situations here.

So—that’s the way it is. I hope all my letters have gotten through OK. The PT&T cable office is still not yet open to the public, & by now you should have had word from me, so I won’t cable.

Incidentally, the emergency connection to get through to me is through the LA office of PA&E. The telephone is [expunged] collect. Ask for [expunged]; he can radio messages; explain my location is Long Binh Post, and you could reach me within 12 hours, I suspect. Alas, under current circumstances I can’t work it the other way ’round!!

Love to all–
Bruce

Letters down to every-other-day now, signifying things were calming down.

Monday, 12 February 68

Dear folks –

By now I hope you’ve had all my letters, and know I am OK. I was on the “missing” list for 3 days as it turned out, simply because no one had checked me in at the CMO—I’d transferred by then to LB. But that’s how it is here—utter chaos—and I’m not sure but what that’s how it will be all the time.

Got your February 4th letter today—it went to Saigon first, then to Long Binh, so took a little extra time. [Family trivia deleted. The letter included a $10 bill, illegal in Vietnam].

Already got a swell birthday present as previously mentioned. It may be a while before I find anything costing $10 that I’d want to buy here; but I’ve had so little chance to see shops and so forth open, I don’t have too clear an idea of what’s available.

A new group of PA&E recruits arrived today, and a few are billeted here at the Loc Building. From what they tell me, the radio/press/TV coverage of the Saigon situation was greatly exaggerated. Make no mistake: there was a lot of bitter fighting here, a great many people killed & wounded, and some areas largely destroyed. But don’t believe 600,000 homeless and that sort of bilge. This morning I saw a group of about 50 AP news photos, mostly taken in Cho-lon. where the worst of the fighting took place. Not very pretty. But a realistic figure on the people displaced in Saigon would be no more than 5-8000; the refugees into the city from much harder hit (but smaller) cities stands around 30,000. Not that these figures aren’t bad enough, but nothing like the reports apparently circulating in the U.S.

Then too, most of the “homeless”, by any human standard, were “homeless” to begin with. The standard of living for at least 2.5 million people here is such as to make the worst of Harlem or Watts seem palatial. It is a wonder that any of the people in these areas survive—and of course, many don’t, even in “normal” times.

The American presence here is creating a fairly large upper class—land owners who lease various properties (such as this hotel) & buildings to the U.S. This situation accentuates the lack of any sizable middle class: Vietnamese tend to be either wealthy or very poor. The leading businesses, for the most part, are owned by Chinese, who have managed to move into the vacuum left by the French. Where the French moved in, created an economy and skimmed the cream off the top, we move in and simply destroy whatever economy is in place and substitute inflation—which makes the poor poorer.

(Later) Three of us just went next door to the Korean Officers Club & had a Korean dinner. Surprisingly good, which is quite a compliment, coming from a steak and potatoes fan like myself. Also, at Long BInh today I got the first decent meal I’ve had out there: it even included an unlimited supply of “filled milk”—reconstituted milk—which is the first I’ve had since leaving LA, and the only thing I’ve really missed since I left.

I’ve sort of become the unofficial chauffeur for the group of us who live more-or-less down town & work at Long Binh. This means driving the “turnpike” (the only 4-lane road in all Vietnam {except possibly the Ho Chi Minh Trail, which is mostly in Laos anyhow}), a distance of 20 miles or so. During these times when traffic is relatively light, it takes a half-hour; but when things get really moving again it will be more like an hour or more. But by then the buses (which are leased from Vietnamese firms and hence aren’t operating because of the curfews) will be running, & I can sleep the whole time as I understand most people do! The road is relatively safe—you can’t plant mines in a paved highway—and is only occasionally (and very temporally) cut by the VC.

It passes the outskirts of Bien Hoa (pronounced Bin Wa) where there was some bitter fighting over control of the highway, and a good many buildings were destroyed.

You can’t afford to go on Xeroxing my letters forever – but as soon as I get my first pay-check I’ll get a typewriter, which will enable me to carbon-copy everything to the family. I appreciate your doing it as long as necessary.

That’s about all for now. Unless the VC kick up more ruckus (some feel they are going to, some don’t), we should soon be settling down to a steady routine—about all that will mean is fewer letters, since there won’t be so much to wrote about!!

Love to all-
Bruce

The driving mentioned in the letter above was all done on my International Drivers License. Later on, I got the local license shown above. Wonderfully impressive, with all those stamps and chops. Yet, no one ever asked to see it during the entire time I was in Vietnam!

Valentine’s Day. 14 February 68

Dear Folks –

Managed to get some larger paper—makes for shorter letters and more economical use of your Xerox facilities!  I’m wondering a bit about whether you ever got the long letter No. 2 that I finally managed to send out unexpectedly when we were confined here. The envelope was poorly sealed; I hope you didn’t get it empty! If you did, a carbon copy went to friends in SF and I expect I could get them to Xerox it & send it on if necessary. [It wasn’t necessary—BB]

Life is slowly returning to normal. The Vietnamese are still, for the most part, under curfew from 7:00 am to 2:00 pm daily—5:30 in a couple of precincts only, so that not too many are able to work, especially those who ride out to Long Binh or other spots outside Saigon proper. Each day, though, sees new streets opened to traffic and other signs of a semblance of normalcy.

U.S. civilians are also under strict curfew from 7 pm to 8:00 am. This means we don’t get to long Binh until 9 (instead of 7:30), and when we leave at 5, we don’t get to Saigon until 6 pm, which leaves no time for eating. Here at the Loc building we’re lucky, inasmuch as there’s a restaurant of sorts on the premises, and the Korean Club next door which serves good food (we ate there again tonight) How soon the curfew is lifted is anybody’s guess, but barring another siege by the VC, my own guess is Monday.

I’ve sort of become the unofficial chauffeur (it’s official now—I got a military license today!) for the group of us who live near or in Saigon.

The buses leave only from Tan Son Nhut, and there’s no very practical way to get out there by the time appointed for it to leave. So every day I drive this bucking bronco of a Dodge 2-seater pickup out the Bien Hoa “Hiway” to Long Binh. It’s quite an experience, for traffic rules (if any) are only rarely observed by anyone, never enforced, apparently, and there are long convoys of heavy trucks, tanks and all that to thread one’s self in and out of! We picked up assorted people after working at LBI today en-route, and ended up with 15! Needless to say, many rode in the back—not a pleasant place to ride I guess; but it beats walking!

I used to have an occasional twinge of conscience when I worked only 7 hours per day at [former employer] but got paid for 8; I accomplished all the tasks I set for myself in that length of time, and everyone prospered, so nothing was ever said about it. But over here, the scale is something else again!! (Of course, nothing has been really “normal” since I got here.) I’ve put in, (exclusive of driving time which is some benefit I suppose) perhaps 20 actual hours of useful work since I arrived—and of that 20, about 18 has been filling out forms. If we never win this war, we ought to be able to bury the whole country in paper and start over! I even had an attack of “Federal Form-itis” last night: I was dreaming I was typing out a form justifying a personal visit to the loo!—and about the time I ripped it out of the typewriter as being just too ridiculous for words, I woke up! [and went to the bathroom—BB]

The army procurement system, after which PA&E is patterned of course, is too incredible; to imagine spending a lifetime in the system as a supply officer or some such would seem unbearable. And I’ve only just started. Compounded by the general ineptitude of the people using & running the procurement system, it is a marvel that anyone ever gets anything. Some way to run a war! And side-by-side with the shortage of staple items, like food, one has a glut of useless items, like staples!! The lab is equipped, for example, with literally hundreds of petri dishes (of an obsolete style) but lacks an analytical balance, the cornerstone of any quantitative lab operation. Oddly enough, two balances (not very clearly identified, but apparently good ones) are in the original “Schedule B” of items issued to PA&E under the contract, but no one has actually ever requisitioned either of them. That’s how it goes. I figure it’s optimistic to shoot for making the lab operational (for chemical analyses) by June 30. Through normal state-side channels, I could be in gear and going in two weeks!

Elsewise there’s not much to report. Haven’t had any chance, of course, to look for quarters—or much else. Having mailed myself a big box of sundry items (soap, etc.) which I finally picked up at Long Binh, and having a good supply of clothes along, I’m better off than many who got caught up in this mess. Will have to order a pair of shoes soon to be mailed down, but for the moment there’s no great rush.

Love to all—and please don’t worry about me. I’m pretty safe (as much as anyone here) and not given to looking for trouble, as I see many idiots doing. They find it. The self-appointed “protector” of our group (described in earlier letters) was sent home (thank goodness)!!

Love to all~
Bruce

I was beginning to get my feet on the ground and learn my way around Saigon. I learned so much from CA, and remember particularly one event. He said he’d take me as his guest to the Five-Os BOQ for a nice dinner: he still had his SOOM [Saigon Open Officers Mess] card that would get us in. By this time there was a fair amount of traffic on Phan-thanh-Gian street, and we decided to take a taxi. At the street, there were several other “round-eyes” (as we were often) called seeking a cyclo or taxi: they stood, waving their thumbs in the air as traffic ignored them. CA simply extended his arm out from his body and gave a little  motion with his hand: six taxis immediately screeched to a halt! We stepped into one of them and were off, leaving the other guys wondering how we’d managed. The secret, of course, was to keep my eyes open and observe how CA had indicated he wanted a taxi (which was, of course, the way the Vietnamese did it as well) and thereafter use the correct action. It worked every time.

In 1968, Saigon Taxis were little Renaults left by the French, and they were usually pretty well worn out. They dated from the 1950s, and were painted in blue and yellow. It was not unusual to look through holes in the floor-boards at the street passing below, but they usually got where they were going.  Maintaining these relics was a local industry: the French refused to provide spare parts, so if one wandered a bit off the beaten track in Saigon, one could find tiny machine-shops manufacturing parts for those taxis.

Similarly, Saigon (and I suppose the whole country) was  a gold-mine of old motorcycles:

I snapped this venerable BMW single parked at a curb one day, and saw it driven around town often. Early Indians could be found, and I even saw an Ariel Square-4 once!

However, the ubiquitous cycle by 1968 was the Honda 55, of which there were an estimated 3 million in Saigon at the time. I’ll have more to say about these later.

NEXT

PHNOM PENH

Angkor Travel Brochure

NOTE TO READERS

The look of this blog will change slightly: I’m out of Vietnam, I’m in Cambodia, and I have a camera. There will be more pictures than there have been so far.

My letters all along were distributed to family and friends: so there is very little in them about gay things. From here on, I will occasionally interrupt the narrative from letters to interject a “BACKSTORY”, which will include whatever it was I did not put in my letter to start with. I’ll change the gay backstory text to blue, which seems appropriate! Other BACKSTORY entries will remain in black & white.

I had with me a tablet of very thin paper, suitable for air-mailing, and I wrote continuous letters until I was able to mail them. Hence, some letters were long, covering several days. And now, without a typewriter, I am long-handing letters again, so for this blog all will have to be keyed in. This will slow things down a bit!

BEFORE I BEGIN

You will see quickly that in late 1968 Cambodia was a very pleasant place. It went quickly to the top of my list of “places I want to go back to”. You’ll also learn that I eventually returned to the states just in time to see places in Cambodia I had visited being blown to smithereens when Tricky Dick Nixon ordered the Vietnam war into Cambodia. There followed the horrors of the Khmer Rouge: Cambodia has not even yet returned to the condition it was when I was there, which grieves me to this day.

ONE MORE THING

I am utterly appalled by the behavior of the right-wing nut-cases raising such a ruckus over President Obama’s proposals about our health-care system. Former President Carter put his finger on it yesterday: racism is alive and well in the USA. We can only hope this bunch of nuts represents too small a portion of our population to cause more than noisy trouble, but I fear the violent nature of the rhetoric is likely to send some fool over the edge.

ON WITH MY STORY!

Just look at those prices!

Handy map of Phnom Penh as it was in 1968

Phnom Penh, 05 September 1968

Dear everyone~

Despite nearly everyone’s saying it couldn’t be done, here I am at Phnom Penh, exhausted, but delighted. The motorcycle is still at the airport—there are some customs formalities to complete tomorrow in the morning, also have to get proper exit visa so I can go out (as planned) via Arranya Prathet to Thailand (3 weeks hence). So I took a bus into town, have a nice Hotel, had a couple of hours of daylight for a quick walking tour; had a leisurely & plentiful meal of pork sautee’d avec champignons et. al., (very good), and am shortly going to turn in for a well deserved rest. It’s been a long day! Met a chap from Holland who is going on to BK tomorrow—he’s just come from Angkor & says it’s lovely and very devoid of tourists (this is not the season; the rains are not really quite over yet).

BACKSTORY: I checked into room 206 in the Hotel Mondial and took a short rest. When I went downstairs to the street to see what I could see, there was a clutch of cyclos and drivers at the curb. They crowded around vieing for my custom, and offering sight-seeing, girls, more sightseeing, more girls. But one chap sidled up and said quietly, “Would you like a girl—or a boy?” I agreed to take a ride in his cyclo, and once we were away from the crowd, it turned out the boy he had in mind was himself! We repaired to a small hotel of his choice, and had a wonderful romp! So, I had my first Cambodian within a few hours of arriving: he was not the last!

I am amused by a statement in a booklet I have before me that says, “Tourists of all nationalities except Chinese (mainland), Vietnamese, Thais and journalists can obtain visa . . .” Apparently they don’t like reporters! A very striking new University is along the route from airport to down-town; just beyond it is a clumpish big technical University built by the Soviets. It is unusual (for me) to see a Polish Embassy (I didn’t even see them in Europe!), but there is one, and Rumanian, and others as well. No American embassy, though—and I doubt I shall miss it a bit. Lots of English spoken here in PnhP, but I may get away from that later.

06 September 1968

The French have left behind throughout “Indo-China” a number of impressive monuments, not the least of which is a monumental bureaucracy that tends to put even us to shame! As a consequence, I still do not have my bike clear of “formalities”; I’m assured by the Australian Embassy however that we should be able to complete arrangements tomorrow morning sometime. Since the pressure is off, I can take all this philosophically; after all, I didn’t have to do it this way—I could have toured in the more conventional manner—hence there’s no one to blame for the delays but myself. But no matter—I got in a good deal of sight-seeing shuttling back & forth between the aerodrome, the Embassy and the Commissioner’s Office. The hang-up actually seems to be the requirement of a “caution”—actually an in-country co-signer who will assume responsibility if I fail to re-export the machine in the allotted time. Naturally, I know no one here who will undertake this, and (rightfully) the Embassy won’t do it either. But they’ve been most helpful—the Australians actually act in some capacities in lieu of an american embassy under a loose agreement we have with them—and I feel sure the matter can be cleared up tomorrow.

BACKSTORY: The real problem in dealing with the motorcycle was the language barrier: everyone thought I wanted to import the bike to Cambodia, which would have meant paying a hefty duty. I was unable to explain, my french and cambodian language skills being meager at best, that what I wanted to do was ride the bike in the country, and on out of it. Nevertheless, I was amused by the kind of forms the importers wanted to prepare: they had typewriters with carriages about 20 inches long, and huge sheets of paper to go into them! There were, of course, NO computers!

Hence, when 1:30 pm came along—everything stops then anyway—I took the more accepted “tour” of Phnom Penh, via “cyclo pousse”. When I get the bike I shall revisit all the spots for a more direct inspection.

I suspect PnhP is now rather like Saigon was in 1958 when Todd was there. It is, of course, much smaller than Sgn is now: about 600,000. Untouched by war in many years, it is hence much better kept, cleaner, & far less crowded. It is, among other things, much quieter: all the motorbikes have their silencers left in; thank goodness I brought with me the one for my machine, which otherwise would disrupt this place mightily. Since the Khmer are in general slightly stockier and larger than the Vietnamese, the Hondas popular here are the 65 & 90 cc models, though 125s are also around.

Another French institution that is universally found in the Extreme d’Orient is BGI (many americans call it British Gas Industries!). Actually, it is Brassieries et Glacieries de l’Indochine. Despite the limitation of the name, they are into all sorts of things—beer, soft-drinks, ice-cream, ice manufacture, etc.

This is the first city I have ever been in that is not plastered with “Beveté Coca Cola” signs. The signs are there, but they read “Drink Pepsi”!! I’m told that in the course of the falling-out with the USA, Coca Cola was somehow banned. How Pepsi slipped by I don’t know—the bottles all clearly say “bottled under license of Pepsi Corp, USA”. Ah, the mysterious East!

There are lots of new buildings, the most spectacular being the Unicversity mentioned earlier and the Olympic Stadii—there are at least two. A big bridge over the Tonle Sap looks like it might be new since Todd was here, but the “Phnom” seems to have been sinking, and a project is underway to shore it up by boring beneath it & putting in a new footing. The Royal Palace looks fascinating & I shall take the tour, tho’ possibly after I get back from Sihanoukville. My tentatively “planned” route is now:

09  Phnom Penh –> Kampot –> Kep . . . . . . . 195km

10   Kep

11   Kep –> Bokor –> Popokvil –> Sihanoukville . . . . . . . 100km

12, 13, 14: Sihanoukville

15  Sihanoukville –> Kirirom . . . . . . . 120km

16  Kirirom –> Phnom Penh . . . . . . . 125km

17  Phnom Penh –> Oudong –> Kampong Thom –> Siem Reap . . . . . . . 314km

18-24 Siem Reap & environs (Angkor, etc)

25 or 26 Siem Reap –> Poipet –> Bangkok . . . . . . . 420km

Subject to change! Will probably break the Siem Reap to Bangkok part into two parts, depending on availability of accommodations en-route. Divide the figures above by 1.6 to get miles, and the distances don’t seem so great—they aren’t!

Have to arise early tomorrow: life begins before dawn here, for some reason, and the Embassy opens at 7:30 am. Hence it is now time to get some sleep. Will add more tomorrow.

07.09.68

Got the bike today OK & toured the Palace—will get this in the mail & start a new letter soon.

Love to all~
Bruce

BACKSTORY: Once the folks at the Australian Embassy got clear in their mind what I wanted to do, they prepared a letter (in French) which I was to take to the Customs authorities at the aerodrome. Apparently the letter made clear to them what I wanted to do, because, after some delay filling out forms, they released the bike and told me I was free to visit any part of Cambodia I wanted: just to hand in the form at whatever point of departure I would use. Expecting the letter to do the trick, I had brought with me the bottle of gasoline procured in Vietnam and the silencer for the muffler. I installed the silencer, put gas in the tank, fired up the cycle and drove back into Phnom Penh. At night, the Mondial staff moved the bike inside the main entrance, not to protect it from thieves, but to keep the weather off of it!

This is the “Phnom” for Which the City is Named.

More letters soon!

NEXT

A BRIEF HISTORY OF RAILS IN ECUADOR

The Guayaquil & Quito Railroad had its origins in very narrow gauge rails serving sugar and banana plantations in the flatlands at the base of the Andes mountains.

Tiny locomotive preserved at Duran (with borrachero)

Construction of what came to be the G&Q as such began in 1861. The first locomotive reached Milagro in 1874 and Bucay in 1888. The line was pushed as far as it could be up the canyon of the Chan Chan river, but there further progress halted until President Eloy Alfaro struck a deal with J. P. Morgan to finance construction under the direction of Archer Harman. He surveyed the route switching back on the Nariz del Diablo to gain the necessary altitude to allow access to Alausí which was reached in 1902. Riobamba was achieved in 1905, and in 1908 the line reached Quito amid much fan-fare.

Although the railway was a boon to all, and reduced travel time between Quayaquil and Quito from from weeks (by stage coach) to two days by rail, the railroad put Ecuador in debt for many years. There was initial unrest due to the high fares which left many poor folk to struggle without access to the railroad, and Alfaro was eventually lynched: today there are statues of him and streets named for him in almost every town in Ecuador!

Monument in Huigra

That is probably Eloy Alfaro on top, but plaques at the bottom also commemorate Archer Harman.

A branch of the railroad left Sibambe in 1915 and eventually reached Cuenca in 1965. This became the Sibambe & Cuenca (S&C) division, with its own shops and locomotives, although by the time I was in Ecuador, S&C locomotives were operating on the G&Q, and vice versa, as the need arose.

As late as 1957 the Northern division was constructed, first to Ibarra, and thence to San Lorenzo, where a deep-water port was envisioned. The port never materialized, so the northern Division languished. I managed to ride a freight train from Quito to Ibarra (more about that later), but never rode the stretch from there to San Lorenzo. I saw maps of the route, however, and it included a couple of circles crossing over itself, and many tunnels, some of them with substantial curves. It looked like a fine ride (by autoferro), but there were no hotels to speak of in San Lorenzo, so I just never made the trip.

I hoped one day to write a book about the G&Q, so I did a little research while there. Language difficulties hampered me, but I did find one amusing book, written (as I recall) in the 1940s: it was the report of some commission or other whose clear objective was to get rid of the railroad. It mentioned, passim, that if all the curvature on the G&Q was added together, it amounted to 44 circles. It is true, there is almost no straight rail on the G&Q, but it gave me a title for my book: “Forty-four circles to Quito”. What appears to be the definitive book has now been written by Alfredo and Marcelo Meneses: “Train to the Sun”. I have ordered a copy, and you can read about it here.

I traced a map of the route from a book somewhere:

A map of the route of the G&Q

I also made up this chart showing mileage and elevations:

Chart showing miles and elevations on the G&Q

However, this chart (shamelessly lifted from the web-page of  Train to the Sun) shows the same figures much more dramatically!

Locomotives on the G&Q were numbered in accord with the year purchased. All of their steam stock came from Baldwin, although I found brief references that suggested at least one Garratt was tried on the line. In 1979, the oldest operating were number 7, 72 years young, and her sister number 11, on which I rode extensively.

Number 7, at this time, just the yard engine, very cold

But Number 7 was alive later that day

Number 14 was undergoing repairs at Duran along with consolidation number 44.

Number 14 being rebuilt for the umpteenth time

“Weedbeater” number 44 under repair

These little Atlantics had clearly been rebuilt many times. There were several of the consolidations operating when I was there, including 17, 45, 46, 51 and S&C number 18. There were several, including number 41, which appeared to be dead—for good. The last locomotive to join the line was number 58, one of the last Baldwin locomotives built.

Rusting quietly in Duran, and being cannibalized for parts

In operation also were Diesel-Electric locomotives built in Spain: these were quite new in 1979, and I counted ten of them as I recall. Although I rode them often, I preferred steam then, and I still do!

One of the Diesel Electrics pulling up to Alausi

In all, the G&Q gave the impression in 1979 that it was a successful, working railroad. When I went back in 1994, though, that impression changed radically: more about that in due course.

I’ll close this epsode of the G&Q narrative with another classic photo:

Number 54 departs Alausi

I waited half a day in the hot sun to get this shot, having first walked the trestle. This freight became a “mixto” when passengers took their places on top of the box-cars.

There’s more railroading in Ecuador to come!

NEXT

I’VE GOT READERS!

Thanks to Statcounter, I can keep track of where this blog is being read. To my surprise, it seems to have attracted some attention in a number of places around the world:

Pointers to readers around the world

It is gratifying to know there are a few people who find his review of my past life interesting.

THAI CURRENCY

Thai currency in use when I was there was beautifully engraved (in England).

One of these in those days was about 20 US cents

So this beauty was worth about a dollar

Ten Baht

The obverse of all bills to 20 was the same

But the obverse of the 100 Baht note was different

This appears to be the Royal Barge

As is often the case in foreign countries, the bills were all different sizes, more or less as indicated above.

In the next page, I shall return to my narrative, traveling from Phuket to Trang.

NEXT

June 24, 2009

Operations are almost “drive-through” these days. I was in the hospital yesterday from 10 am until 6 pm. Of that time, I was on the operating table less than an hour! The remainder was preparation (2 hours) and recovery (5 hours).

After the Gallbladder Surgery

Nothing but a big black hole where my gall bladder was. Of the operation itself, of course, I have no recollection: I was out cold! Now, I have some minor pain around my tummy: after all, my old bod has been assaulted rather violently. But the laparoscopic technique is so much less invasive than the old “carve ‘em up” approach that I should be back to what passes for normal (in my case) quite soon.

There was plenty of time to think through some more of my most recent story, Nature Boy. The second installment is mostly on the computer now: I just have to do a little polishing and convert it to ASCII per Nifty’s rules and get it uploaded.

Thanks for all your kind wishes, of which there were none at [email protected] . Perhaps I have no readers!

NEXT

May 29, 2009

NUCLEAR NON-PROLIFERATION

Before I begin the next phase of my narrative, a word about non-proliferation. It seems to me the notion is flawed, as it maintains some who have the bomb, and some who do not. Inevitably, those who do not have the bomb want it, hence Iran, and other countries  trying to make one, or buy one from North Korea (who needs the money and will sell anything to anyone).

My answer would be to scrap the non-proliferation treaty and offer a bomb (or several) to  any country that wanted one and was willing to take on the expense of maintaining, protecting and accounting for it. It seems  to me that everyone who does not have one would take one (or a few – the number does not matter). What matters is that when everyone had “the bomb” anyone tempted to use one would know they would be subjected to instant annihilation if they did so. The plan is Mutual Assured Destruction (MAD) carried to its ultimate extreme. While it could lead to the end of the earth as we know it, my feeling is that would not happen. MAD did a good job of staving off nuclear war for many years, until Dubya substituted his “Preemptive Strike” (PS) doctrine, and see what that got us! The problem with preemptive strike is that anyone can strike preemptively: there is nothing to prevent Iran or North Korea or any other country from adopting that policy, and there is really no rational protection against it. MAD would be a far more potent dis-incentive to “strike first and ask questions later”, which is how George implemented PS. The total destruction of a sovereign nation (Iraq) was the result: there is a lot of blood on George’s hands, and I wish to see him pay the appropriate price for it.

CALM BEFORE THE STORM

The two years between 1964 (divorce from Johnny) and 1966 (next love) were relatively uneventful. At work I was moving up the ladder slowly; away from work I was foot-loose and fancy-free. I played the field, often spending Friday and Saturday nights at a mixed bar called Bligh’s Bounty. At the time, it was a pretty laid-back place where guys who liked black men could hang out, and where black men who likes whites could do the same. I got to know some very nice fellows: most of the time the juke-box was low enough so a decent (and occasionally indecent) conversation could be had. That came to an end with the installation of live go-go boys, who danced to a much louder juke-box.

The guys were pretty enough, though they rarely were allowed to “let it all hang out” in those days: they wore skimpy speedos or posing-straps. But the notion they were up there being looked at by all the guys in the place resulted in awesome attitude problems: they were untouchable, whereas the more ordinary folk in the bar were at least open to the notion of a toss in the hay. I managed to trick from Bligh’s now and then, but most of my sex was occurring in the tubs, specifically the Turk Street Baths.

The TSB was, in those days, a fairly classy and reasonably safe place. It generally filled to over-flowing on weekends, but my favorite night was Thursday. The Thursday night crowd was mainly made up of guys who couldn’t wait for Friday and who were “hot to trot”. In the feverish weekend crowd, too many guys were waiting for “Mr. Right”, so a less-than-perfect guy like me went without. But on Thursdays? Whooooopee! I could usually score, and had some really wonderful nights there.

Just once in those days, I contracted a case of anal clap. I knew I was taking a chance on a fellow I’d not seen before and who was a bit more drunk than I’d have liked: but he was cute, and hung poorly-enough that I could manage. Later, at the City Health Clinic, a nurse gave me two shots of penicillin, one in each hip.

She said, “A few deep squats will help relieve the sting”.

I replied, “Lady, how do you think I got into this condition?”

She fell out, laughing: I’d made her day.

I resolved to be more careful.

FATEFUL MEETING

One night I stayed at Bligh’s later than usual, and joined some fellows who invited me to ride with them over to the Jumping Frog on Polk Street. I’d heard of it, but had never gone: it stayed open “after hours”. But when we got there, it was packed beyond managing, and was filled with fumes from smokers, and everyone there was more drunk than I, and more drunk than I cared for, so I departed, planning to catch an “owl” bus that took me within a block of where I was then living. I missed a bus by minutes, and had to wait an hour on the street for another. When it arrived, now around 3 in the morning, there was only one person (beside the driver) on it, a black dude seated at the back of the bus. I dropped down beside him, and we struck up a desultory conversation that soon lapsed, until it devolved that we both got off at the same stop. I suggested he could stop in for coffee, and he agreed.

I was not immediately drawn to Cornell: I got the impression he was straight, but we were engaged in somewhat similar work and there were topics we could discuss meaningfully. We drank coffee and chatted amiably until nearly 5 A M, when he decided he should be getting home. For whatever reason, as he stood, I simply said, “I’d really like to hug you before you go”.

THE STORM

That was all it took! Pretty soon we were rolling around on my bed, kissing and carrying on. We were in no hurry to get undressed, and in fact never did. He got my manhood out of my pants, but for the most part, we engaged in frottage, something with which I was not very familiar. We went at this for at least an hour, and I found him very exciting: he was gentle and caring: what of him I could feel was smooth and silky, and I wanted more, more, MORE!

All of a sudden, he leapt out of bed and ran to the bathroom. I got there soon after to find him mopping up: he’d had an orgasm in his pants! The familiar smell of cum (not to mention hours of exciting fore-play) led me to jack off and add my seed to his, a process that took only a few moments, but which was explosive on my part. Then I helped him clean up, gave him a clean pair of my own tighty-whities, and sent him on his way after exchanging phone numbers.

The upshot of all this is we saw a good deal of each other for a few months. I discovered that Cornell was an expert fucker: he fucked me often, and made me enjoy it every time. To do so, he had to get nude, and I reveled in his superb body, very black, glabrous, and without any adipose tissue at all. He was not particularly muscular, but just perfectly constructed and sexy. I was very soon wrapped up in Cornell, and it seemed like he liked me and appreciated my sense of humor and my horniness whenever he came around.

In late March that year I took a short job in Albuquerque, New Mexico, then took a train to Chicago, thence to Montreal and St. Hyacinthe, PQ, home of the famous pipe organ builders Casavant Freres Ltee. The notion at the time was I should go to work there. Cornell looked after my place while I was gone.

But the weather sucked! Winter was over, but Spring hadn’t sprung: it was miserably cold, and I quickly decided it was no place for a native Californian. Also, I spoke no French, and it was clear that to work there I would have had to do so. I shortened my stay and took a train to New York: Easter was fast approaching, but I really wanted to get back home to Cornell. I phoned him my ETA and headed west by plane on Easter Sunday.

When I entered my house, it was empty. Until I reached the bedroom, where Cornell was waiting to surprise me. Man, oh man! Coming home to a beautiful guy I was hoping before long to call my lover: what more could a 30 year old gay boy want?

What, indeed!

A few days later, the roof fell in on my life. Cornell announced he was already married (to a guy) and that his dalliance with me was over. It had just been a ”lark”, a conquest, and it was done.

Jesus H. Christelberger! I went into a deep funk. I managed to keep working, but going home every night, alone again, no prospects, no nuthin’, sent me into a tail-spin. I stalked his house, hoping for glimpses of him, but he eluded me. I was, to put it mildly, heart-broken.

How I got out of this depression will be reported in my next episode, so stay tuned!

NEXT

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.

NEXT

. . . 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.

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