I left the air base at Oakland, California, heading for Vietnam. It was a small plane, operated by a charter airline called Flying Tiger Airlines (which was something of a joke because the initials FTA was also known in both the military and the anti-war circles at that time as “F**k The Army). I remember most the fact that there were no windows in the passenger compartment.
There were maybe a 180 of us, all wearing the brand new jungle fatigues that had been issued us hours before we got on the plane. There was one guy in particular who had tried to escape going to Vietnam while we were still at Oakland by bribing a cab driver to take him to downtown San Francisco - and the cabbie took him to the Military Police station instead.
We landed in Honolulu, Hawaii for our first refueling stop and as we got off the plane, some ladies from the local tourist bureau gave each of us a small orchid. When we re-boarded, the plane quickly began to smell like it had been infested with a horde of grandmothers wearing orchid perfume. The guy who had tried to run at Oakland tried to run in Honolulu, was caught and put back on the plane with us.
Next stop was Guam. Pretty much the same thing, minus the orchids – and he tried to run again (and failed).
Then it was Clark Air Force Base near Manila, Republic of the Philippines. It was pouring rain during the hour or so of the re-fueling and this time he successfully escaped.
Last was Bien Hoa Airport in South Vietnam. Up until that time, as we approached the Honolulu, Guam and Manila airports, the pilot came on the address system with the routine, “We will be landing in a few moments at //fill in the blank//. The weather is //fill in the blank//, the temperature is //fill in the blank// and the local time is //fill in the blank//”.
But this time it was different - the pilot came on the address system and said, “The Viet Cong are shelling the airport and we do not have enough fuel to go into a holding pattern or shift to another airstrip. So as soon as the plane stops rolling, use the emergency exits and evacuate the plane immediately. Once you are on the ground, move away from the plane as it will become a target.”
The plane came to a stop, the emergency exits and the regular exit doors opened and we poured out of the plane. I think I was running even before my feet had hit the runway. I saw a building ahead and thought, “Great, some cover!” but as I was heading toward it, I heard a whistling noise and fell to the ground. There was a loud “Boom!” and then I felt a blast of heat, followed by the worst smell I had ever experienced (up until that moment). The building I had been heading for had taken a direct hit from a rocket and was on fire - and the smell came from the fact that the building was a latrine! The noxious smell was burning human excrement!
I hugged the ground until the shelling stopped and the “All clear” was sounded and we gathered together to get our bags (luckily, the airplane itself had not been hit by enemy fire). Three of the men from my plane were wounded and were getting first aid until the ambulances arrived to take them to a nearby hospital. They had been in Vietnam less than 5 minutes and had already gotten wounded and would get their Purple Heart Medals for it.
The whole experience made the first words of the in-processing sergeant seem so ironic – “Welcome to Vietnam”.
365 days later, I left Vietnam for good, feeling about 10-20 years older.
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