I was in Vietnam from February 4th 1967 to February 1st 1968. Some of the songs presented here were actually recorded before I left for Vietnam. But when I hear these songs, they
bring back feelings and memories of my experiences in that war.
Some of these songs I remember hearing while I was at one of the forward base camps. And some of them bring back memories of when I was on a patrol. No music was available during
that time, but the songs must have been playing in my head, and became attached to certain memories and feelings.
And I heard some of them while I was on R & R (Rest & Recuperation).
Eve Of Destruction
Eve Of Destruction describes the turbulent mood of the time. Very few Americans believed we belonged in the Vietnam War.
This was the first war to be broadcast on the news every day, on every station. And the images weren't very pretty. Viewers had instant access to the body counts, saw the body bags, and were appalled.
Dodging the draft was in style. Some people were even moving out of the country in order to avoid being drafted. Others were burning their draft cards.
Protesters were everywhere. It seemed like the whole country was ready to go up in flames. And at times, parts of it did.
Most Americans in Vietnam, and probably every other war, were always thinking about home, and wishing they were homeward bound.
To me, the most prominent memories of this song are of two places. One of them is Bien Hoa, where I first landed in Vietnam.
Two things stand out in my memories of Bien Hoa: (1) The latrine was a long row of seats (about 10 or 12). The first time I used it there was an old Mamason sitting on the far seat. I guess she had no
where else to go.
And (2), I witnessed a near-collision between two helicopters flying about 50 feet off the ground. One of them was an OH-13. It's the same kind of helicopter that you see in the TV series M.A.S.H. The
Army used them in Vietnam for reconnaissance. The other one was a Huey. They were coming toward each other at about a 90 degree angle and apparently didn't notice it until the last second. That's when I
found out how quickly a Huey could slam on its brakes. It almost stood straight up, and the OH-13 flew past.
If those choppers had collided, they would have come down right about where I was standing.
Another memory that Homeward Bound brings me is of Vung Tau. I was on a 3 day in-country R & R in this resort town. I had been in Vietnam for about 9 months. I remember hearing Homeward Bound, knowing
that when I left there I wouldn't be going home. I'd be going back to my unit - back to search and destroy - back to the war.
The Letter - Sloop John B
I also heard these two songs when I was in Vung Tau. I find it interesting that the three songs that remind me of Vung Tau all mention going home. I wonder if the writers of these songs were somehow
influenced by the Vietnam War.
I was flying in a Huey, about to make an air assault. To me this was an awesome specticle. There'd be 18 to 20 Slicks (Hueys) flying in formation, loaded with soldiers. There'd also be at least 2 Huey
gunships escourting us.
Off in the distance, we could see where we would be landing. Artillery would be pounding away at it.
When the artillery stopped, the gunships would go in, strafing and shooting rockets. Then we'd go in with the door gunners firing their M-60 machine guns.
In case you're wondering, yes, it was very noisy. But when we were on the ground and the Hueys were gone, there was dead silence. No birds were singing (apparently, something had disturbed them) and any
enemy soldier in the area was either dead or running like his rear end was on fire (and maybe it was).
After a short period of silence, we'd hear, "Move out!" and we'd begin a 10 day, long-range patrol.
We were on patrol in the mountains when two Montagnards suddenly appeared on our right. They were tribal people who lived in the Central Highlands, and who hated the Viet Cong. They were wearing not
much more than loin clothes and carrying spears. It was obvious to me that they were hunting for food for their families, and were no threat to us.
But when they suddenly appeared, some of the trigger-happy guys in my squad opened fire. They shot them so many times, they almost turned them into hamburger.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
Again on patrol in the mountains. We had stopped and were waiting for something, I wasn't sure what.
I had loaded my backpack in such a way that I could sit on the ground and lean back on it. It was pretty comfortable.
So there I was, taking an unexpected, but welcomed break. I could hear a small aircraft in the distance, but didn't think much of it.
Then I heard a very loud noise above me that sounded like a chain saw, and at that moment I knew why we had stopped. The small aircraft in the distance was a spotter plane that had found something. The
chain saw sound was an Air Force jet shooting its gattling gun.
I heard each round three different times. First, when they went over my head they made miniature sonic booms (traveling faster than the speed of sound). Then I heard the rounds being fired, just before
the jet flew over. The third time was when the rounds exploded on impact.
Red Rubber Ball
When I first arrived at my unit, I was issued 2 canteens. After a few patrols, we were issued two-quart plastic blatters and also allowed to keep our canteens. But I talked the supply sargent into giving me 2 of them.
Drinking the water from the blatters actually tasted better than it did from the canteens. And now I had 3 times as much of it.
Somebody To Love
This brings back memories of waiting to be extracted. We had completed a long-range patrol and we were in a large clearing - large enough for all of our chariots to land together.
I always hoped to see Hueys and not Chinooks. The inside of Chinooks were very loud with the high-pitch noise of the turbans. The Hueys had the same problem if the doors were closed. But we always kept
the doors open so that we could enter or exit quickly, and if the situation called for it, we could fire our weapons.
Finally, I saw what I was hoping for - a formation of Hueys.
Just Like Me
Just Like Me brings back memories of LZ Betty. It was the forward base camp of the 2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division. If that sounds familiar, it's probably because of one of its
former commanders - some guy named Custer.
LZ Betty was outside of Phan Thiet, on the coast of the South China Sea. It had an airstrip that handled both military and commercial aircraft, and was a very busy place.
When my company was at Betty, I stayed in a one-man hooch that was made out of ammo crates and surrounded by sandbags. And there was sand everywhere. You notice it the most if you were close to a chopper
when it takes off or lands. There's nothing like being sand blasted by a Chinook.
There was very little vegitation growing around LZ Betty. Apparently, Agent Orange had done its job.
Too Many Rivers
I remember sitting on sandbags that lined the mortar pits at Betty. I was alone, staring at an 81mm mortar, and thinking, "What the Hell am I doing here?"
It was a very hot day at LZ Betty. I was looking at the baron landscape around me, and thinking of this song. A single storm cloud was heading my way. I was looking forward to getting wet, so I didn't
When the rain started, it only took a few seconds before I was thoroughly soaked. In a couple of minutes the cloud was gone and the heat was back.
Then, within just a few minutes, I was dry and cooking again, waiting for another cloud.
This was one of the many recreational opportunities we had there.
She's Just My Style
One of the few nice things about being in Vietnam was that I saw some very beautiful women there.
I Think We're Alone Now
On patrol and digging a hole to sleep in, I usually thought about three things. I wondered if it would rain and I would wake up in mud. I wondered if the Viet Cong or NVA (North Vietnamese Army)
knew where we were, and would attack that night. And there was always the possibility that they were right under us in a tunnel system, and could pop up suddenly from spider holes.
I didn't get much sleep on long-range patrols.
The first time I heard Somethin' Stupid (no, I wasn't talking to an officer), I was looking at the flat roof top of a building. I was looking out the window of a hotel room in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia,
where I was on a 7 day R & R.
I should have been happy to be in such a place. But all I remember is a feeling of emptiness.
Frank and Nancy Sinatra did a good job of harmonizing in this song. But it didn't do a very good job of uplifting my spirits.
Cherry Pink & Apple Blossum White
In the hotel in Kuala Lumpur, there was a night club with a live band and belly dancers. Although they played many songs, the only one I remember is Cherry Pink & Apple Blossum White.
The Spider & The Fly
LZ Bartlett was a fire base sitting on top of a mountain. It had 2 105mm Howitzers, a quad 50 (4 .50 caliber machine guns mounted and fired together) and room enough to land a grand total of 1
Artillery had built a church/mess out of ammo boxes. They had much better food than we had, and they always shared it with us whenever we were there.
I remember hearing The Spider & The Fly while I was in a bunker on the perimeter.
Black Is Black
It was December, 1967, and we had just suffered very heavy losses in each of two recent battles.
We'd been hearing about a place called Bong Son, and not very good things. But now we were moving there - the entire battalion - lock, stock & Huey.
So we flew out of LZ Betty for the last time, and landed at LZ English, where the battalion set up its new base camp. But my company was only there briefly before we were flown to LZ Two Bits.
I'd tell you more about LZ Two Bits, but the name pretty much says it all.
Nothing had changed all that much. Betty - English; Bartlett - Two Bits; war - death. Black Is Black.
When you're a short-timer (you have a short time left before you go home) you start getting paranoid. White Rabbit reminds me of that paranoia. And that paranoia came to a head when I was flying back to
LZ English from LZ Two Bits.
I was on my way home, and I was flying in a Huey which had brought supplies to Two Bits.
Now, I had questioned the sanity of some of these pilots before. But I wondered if this one had a death wish. We did a power dive off the side of a mountain, then flew at full speed at tree top level,
and some times at grass top level dodging trees.
I remember thinking, "I've been here a year, and now this guy's going to kill me." I was never so happy to touch down at an LZ.
Paint It Black
I was at Cam Ranh Bay, and was about to catch a plane that would take me home. I had survived a year in pure Hell and was ready to return to "The World." And I wanted to go home in the worst way.
But at the same time I was overwhelmed by a feeling of dread. I knew there were mobs of protesters waiting for Vietnam Veterans. They were at the airports, welcoming us home by throwing things at us and
calling us "Baby Killers."
I heard "Paint It Black" before I boarded the plane. It described the way I felt, knowing that I was about to trade one type of hostility for another.
For What It's Worth
I was sitting in a bar in Chicago, reflecting on what I'd just been through.
This song was playing on the jukebox, and an opinionated friend of mine, who had never been to Vietnam, started telling me all about what it was like over there.
I resisted the urge to strangle him.
Incense & Peppermints
This song reminds me of how insane the entire Vietnam experience was.
You may have noticed that I tried to insert a little humor into this narrative. But the fact is, there's nothing funny about the carnage.
58,000 Americans died in a war that we weren't allowed to win. General Westmoreland was given a job to do. But then the politicians prevented him from doing it.
The worst of them was President Johnson. He treated the war as if it was his own little chess game. He tried to run the war from the White House, constantly changing missions and how they would be
I have nothing against cowboys. But this one thought he knew more about being a general, than the generals. His constant interferance, along with all the other political roadblocks, gave us no chance of
winning that war.
The people who suffered the most were the Vietnamese. They were attacked from both sides, all because we were determined to protect the corrupt government of South Vietnam.
* * *
Wars would be so much better if we replaced all of the combatants with clowns armed with seltzer bottles.