The Asshole of the Earth
Well, here we are back in the asshole of the earth. If the earth were ever to receive an enema they would insert the probe into South Vietnam. Really, why are we here? The domino theory: Vietnam falls to the communists, then Laos, Cambodia, Burma, and then India. Do they really believe that shit? Don’t these morons know that communism is just capitalism for a few?
Sometimes You Get What You Ask For
Oh well, once I volunteered to fly helicopters and then gunships I asked for everything I got. So, I’m not complaining as my job was basically to protect American troops and an occasional Korean, (ROK), Aussie, and the South Vietnamese army; the last being a dreaded mission. Numerous times the South Vietnamese army would shoot at us. Some of them were Vietcong at night The “cong” as we called them were South Vietnam’s indigenous people. Mostly farmers with poor, or any, military training.
Our war planners would determine certain areas off-limits as they believed the cong were growing rice for the North Vietnamese soldiers. We had two solutions for this problem: first, we would kill anyone in these areas. Second, we would spray the area with Agent Orange. This was a super killer for all vegetation. Roundup on steroids. Incidentally, we were told years later that it was extremely carcinogenic. We were given a gas mask to wear while spraying but didn’t use them. It blocked some of our peripheral vision, too hot and the sweat burned our eyes and the spray would cover the faceplate of the mask and you could see. Other than that it was a great idea by some REMF, (rear echelon mother fucker). This was someone who had never been out in the war zone and was clueless.
Commiseration
The club was a place for all the pilots to commiserate; both the slick and gun pilots would drink and with some occasional bad-mouthing of each other. This was just bad-mouthing to blow off steam. Actually every one of those pilots wouldn’t hesitate to put their life on the line to help their fellow pilot.
We would get very philosophical after a few drinks and would solve most of the world’s problems. Especially here in VN. We wondered out loud why we kept going back into the same LZs, (landing zones) we had taken from the enemy just a month earlier. During these heavy discussions, I made a very good friend who incidentally was black and from the south. He said, “he liked me because I wasn’t prejudiced”. I said, “hell, I don’t know any prejudice Blacks but I know lots of white ass holes”. He choked on his warm beer at that remark.
Two-Foot-Long Rats
The enemy would launch a rocket or two nearly every night, into American-held areas, for harassment. Occasionally they would hit something and kill a few kids. The first few nights were a bit concerning but after that, you could sleep through anything. We were in a constant state of sleep deprivation.
It was suggested to us not to run to the bunkers in the camp area during these rocket attacks. Of course, someone would ask why and were told that the rats in there were two feet long, and half of that was their body. One old-timer said, “They would hold you for ransom and only exchange you for food.” A two-foot-long rat scared the shit outa me at just the thought. Hell, don’t they have any rat poison?”