As the plane made it’s descent over the South China Sea, most of us tried to get a view of the coast and our first sight of the land. Except for the few who were returning, we had no idea what it might look like. I had thought that I might see flashes from explosions and smoke rising into the sky, and all of us having to make a mad dash from the plane to the nearest bunker. After all, it was a war zone! But, as we got closer, all seemed calm, with the only smoke coming from what looked like some small burn areas.

Cam Ranh Bay was a large installation, spread out along the sea-coast. There were rows and rows of single story structures and all along the airstrip were the usual hangers, fighter jets, helicopters, large transport planes, service and storage areas, vehicles, and everything that I had seen at military airfields in the States. As the plane taxied to the terminal, some of the men got out of their seats and started grabbing gear from the overhead bins. I expected the stewardesses to start barking orders to remain seated, but they just ignored the commotion. I suppose they knew, as well, that this was not your typical domestic flight. I stayed in my seat and wondered why the rush to get to a place no one really wanted to be in the first place! As the crowd began to clear, I pulled my briefcase (everything else that I had brought was in a suitcase and duffle-bag in the belly of the plane) out from under the seat and stood to take my turn. A couple of enlisted men behind me stopped, gestured ahead, and offered “After you, Sir”. I thanked them and made my way up the aisle toward the front. The stewardesses stood smiling and nodding, without speaking, as each man reached the door. I guess it would have been less than appropriate to give the usual “Enjoy your stay” comment! What would you say to people about to face death on a regular basis?

Approaching the door, I could feel the heat invading the coolness of the cabin, and as I stepped out to the top of the stairway the full blast hit me. It was HOT!! Growing up on the Texas Gulf Coast and living in Dallas, I was accustomed to hot weather, but this was different. Over 100 degrees and very high humidity, in addition to the sun drenched dark steel tarmac and hot jet engines, was rather extreme compared to the air-conditioned airliner. However; what was very familiar were the odors in the air, which most all soldiers recognize. The smell of diesel and jet fuel, hydraulic fluids and oil, exhausts, and oiled canvas all blended together was unmistakable. There were other odors that I had never before experienced, but I had never been in a place like this.

The terminal was an unassuming single story building of masonry with large glass windows, not unlike many small airports back in the U S. It was air-conditioned to a degree; still warm but much better than outside. We were directed to a larger building where we were assigned sleeping quarters, given maps of the installation, and instructions as to how to proceed with in-processing. Just beyond this building were a row of long structures with wood siding halfway up and insect screening up to the metal roof, upon which sandbags were laid out. A doorway at the end opened to a line of metal cots on each side. A thin mattress and a locker made up our sleeping quarters. Nearby was a latrine with wash sinks. Behind one row, and overlooking the beach in the distance, was the Officers Mess, a minimal cafeteria where I could eat at mealtimes. It was all very basic, with no amenities, but incoming personnel were only there for a day or two, before moving on to their permanent assignment. There were quite a number of Lieutenants arriving along with me, and I recognized one of them from my class at Fort Sill. It was somewhat comforting to not be among all strangers. We claimed cots next to each other and reminisced until time for dinner.

The next morning we walked to the Mess for breakfast. I was not a big eater in the morning and was having a hard time deciding what looked best. I had just about decided on cereal when there was a sudden deafening blast that shook the building, rattling dishes and utensils, and sending most of the occupants diving to the floor. It only took a short moment for me to decide to follow their lead. Shortly, a siren went off from nearby, followed by a lot of shouting outside. When we got up from the floor and looked out we saw a fire and scattered debris around a partially destroyed structure near to the mess. Most of us went out to see what had happened, only to learn that a rocket had hit the Dental Clinic next door. There were medics, fire fighters, and other personnel on scene immediately and we were ordered to continue as we were. I had no desire to eat anything at that point. Feeling quite a bit shaken, I went back to the quarters until time to report to the processing area. Sixteen hours of normalcy had been broken in an instant, bringing about the realization that at any moment my life could change significantly, no matter where I found myself. Of course, that is true at any time and anywhere during our lifetime, but it can be anticipated in war. I felt a real sense of trepidation, but I also knew that it didn’t matter, because I was there and nothing could change that. As I began processing in I found out that several people had been killed and more were wounded in the earlier explosion.

After all the paperwork was finished I was issued my jungle fatigues, underwear, and boots. I would receive the remainder of what I would need when I got to my final assignment. Late that afternoon, I learned that my new orders were sending me to I-Corps, the northernmost part of the theater in South VietNam, with II, III, and IV Corps extending south to Saigon and the Mekong Delta. I was assigned to the Americal Division, headquartered at Chu Lai, on the coast, 60 miles south of Da Nang, and 100 miles from the DMZ. I knew that the Marines were working out of Da Nang and Hue on the DMZ. Obviously, there was no safe place anywhere, but the Marines were always highly involved being so close to North VietNam. I had no idea what I was facing, but going up that way made me feel even more wary.

The next morning, June 21, I loaded onto a C-130, a twin-engine cargo and troop carrier that could hold about 60 men, and made the flight up to Chu Lai. It was a really large installation with concrete runways, some large concrete buildings, and even some concrete roads. I was told that the Americal was the largest division in VietNam. There was a big Infantry reception and training area there, where all incoming personnel spent time learning what to expect and how to operate and survive in VietNam. I found that most all personnel structures were built the same as I had seen in Cam Ranh Bay. After arriving I was processed in and assigned my quarters where I would spend the next seven days. As I was going through processing I noticed several more of my classmates from Fort Sill. I couldn’t imagine how so many of us were arriving here with well under a year left in our tours. On my way to my quarters I ran into a classmate from Texas A&M. He had already promoted to Captain and was assigned there with the training center and was actually staying in the same barracks as me. It was good being able to visit with someone that I knew well. I asked if he was aware of why so many of us were there with only seven months active duty remaining. He told me that so many Junior Officers had either finished their tours, been killed, or seriously wounded, that there was a huge shortage of Lieutenants, especially in the Artillery!! Now, that really gave me pause for concern!

The next day, June 22, was Linda and my first anniversary! What lousy timing! I spent the next week going through briefing and instruction and practicing calling in Artillery fire missions. We were told how to interact with the people and what to expect from the Viet Cong, who were the non-uniformed communist sympathizers, and the NVA, or North VietNam regular army. We learned about the various deadly traps that would be set up and pungi-stakes used to debilitate those who stepped on or fell on them. And of course, there were the many types of deadly snakes, including cobras and green tree snakes. I was probably as worried about them as the human enemy! And spiders…don’t even think about it!! During that time I received my orders to the 6^th Battalion, 11^th Artillery Brigade located at fire base Bronco at Duc Pho, some 40 miles to the South, near the southern line of I-Corps. At least I wasn’t going farther North!

On June 28, I caught a helicopter to Duc Pho and reported to Battalion headquarters. I was welcomed in, given a place to spend the night, escorted to the Battalion Commander’s office, and introduced to Lieutenant Colonel Gleave. I was immediately put at ease by his professional, yet friendly demeanor. He briefed me on the responsibilities of the battalion and the current situation in the field and told me that I was being attached to Alpha Company, 4^th Battalion, 11^th Infantry Brigade as a Forward Observer. My role was to be at the Company Commander’s side at all times and deliver fire support at his request, or as I deemed necessary. Each battalion had a headquarters, “in the rear”, at Bronco and a “forward” or “field” headquarters on a remote fire base, from which the combat troops operated. The 4/11 Infantry was located on a mountain top about eight miles to the West, named San Juan Hill.

In this part of the country the mountainous areas were usually within five miles of the coast and often extended close to the beach. Most of the flat land between the mountains and sea was devoted to rice paddies managed by the local people. Hedgerows and trees around the populated areas were the main vegetation until reaching the foothills where the jungle began. After years of conflict, virtually all civilians had migrated to the coastal areas, with the exception of some mountain people known as Montagnards, so, much of the previously cleared or farmed areas were overgrown. Once into the mountains, there were valleys of flat, relatively open land, often filled with abandoned rice fields. Most mountaintops were covered with tall grasses or rocky surfaces, while the slopes downward were most often covered by the dense jungle, a lot of which was triple-canopy, that blocked out all sunlight to the ground. San Juan Hill had mostly grassy and rocky slopes, which made it easier to defend, and was surrounded by mountains as high or higher than it. A couple of small valleys, through which streams ran, were located on two sides at its base.

In the northern part of the country, all roads into the mountains no longer existed, and the only paved road through most areas was Highway 1, which ran along the coast from Saigon in the south up to North VietNam. This was the reason that the helicopter became the primary means of transportation and supply, and the Bell UH-1 helicopter, the “Huey”, was the workhorse. It wasn’t long before I truly fell in love with flying in choppers!

The next day I flew out on a Huey to San Juan Hill and reported to my boss, Captain Monday, who was the Artillery Liaison Officer to the infantry battalion. He seemed like a nice guy, pretty laid back, and easy to talk to. He briefed me on the current situation around our area of operation and said I would be catching the re-supply chopper out to Alpha Company in the late afternoon. The mountain top had two crests with a saddle in the middle. The infantry was on the East crest and the Artillery on the West crest, with the saddle used for the mortar squad, chopper landing pad, supply area, and the mess kitchen. I spent the rest of the day up at the Artillery battery, meeting the battery commander and the Lieutenants who worked the Fire Direction Center, or FDC, were I would radio in my fire missions. They gave me more pointers on setting up defensive targets, called DTs, and other procedures that would help with my responsibilities.