Christmas 1970
God bless us, every one!
--A Christmas Carol, Dickens
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Ranger spent Christmas eve 1970 in a parapet at the base of an elevated water tower in the center of Camp Long Thanh, Republic of Vietnam. The U.S. element of the camp was on high alert (before Mr. Ridge's colors became de rigeur.)--A Christmas Carol, Dickens
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The reason for the high alert was that the Vietnamese inside of the camp were having a Midnight Mass; afterwards, 600+ Vietnamese walked the inner perimeter with lighted candles. These personnel were all faithful Catholics. The sight was chilling and mesmerizing. Artillery flashed in the distance.
Ranger still remembers the strangeness of a holiday procession in the midst of a very serious dispute between nations. The gesture was observant and a protest, as the Communists intended to eradicate religious observation if they were successful. In fact, the main cathedral in Saigon later became a museum to the people's struggle after the fall of Saigon, April '75.
That evening's procession is a memory of a country that no longer exists. Is it for better or for worse? Ranger surely doesn't know.
If he had a prayer to offer he would do so for all the souls lost to the wars and to those who are no longer even remembered in the flicker of a flame held aloft in a candle.
Season's greetings to all of our friends. If you have a memory to share, you are invited to do so here.
Labels: camp long thanh, vietnam mass, war christmas memory
posted by Lisa at 11:00 AM
16 Comments:
kishmesh jooni,
ya'll.
I’ve been racking my brain all day and I really can’t remember Christmas in Nam. I’m sure there might have been a mad minute involved there but what I do remember is that in December 68 I had been in Quan Tri helping one of our units pull back from Dong Ha to the under construction 5th Mech base camp Red Devil. For a month or so we sandbagged, built bunkers, hooches, an underground como center and other menial tasks. I was ready to head back south to Camp Eagle when I started getting some Christmas mail. One of the items, from my uncle Al, was an artificial Christmas tree which when put together was 5 feet tall. Now catching a chopper back to Eagle with everything I owned on my back and in a duffle bag, I had no place left for a box with a 5 ft artificial Christmas tree in it. So I sold it for $5 to one of the guys who was staying at Red Devil.
The memory though is of uncle Al. You see, as a young sailor in WWII, uncle Al served aboard the USS Quincy, a heavy cruiser. The Quincy, in one of the first battles of the Guadalcanal campaign, was sunk in the Battle of Savo Island along with three other ships. Uncle Al had related to me how he swam around all night, hanging on to floating debris as the battle raged on around him. In the morning, as the fog lifted, they saw a ship coming towards them out of the fog and wondered if it was theirs or the Japanese. As the ship got closer they could see that it was firing machine guns into the water. Their hopes were dashed as they thought it was surely the Japanese. However, as luck would have it, it was an American ship and the gunners were shooting at very active sharks and Uncle Al was safely rescued.
That 5 ft Christmas tree, however impractical, was a reminder of home and a gesture from an old vet who knew what it was like to be away at war over Christmas. Wish I had talked to him more over the years.
Merry Christmas to everyone.
As I recall, roast dog was the traditional Christmas meal. And the few Vietnamese Catholics I met were refugees from Hanoi or Haiphong who had fled south after partition in the mid fifties.
Wierdly enough, what comes to mind is pulling Christmas Eve CQ in the HHC barracks of 2/187th Inf (Abn)(Lt), Fort Kobbe, Panama, 1986. Couple of mildly happy drunks in the dayroom, one of my platoon problem children stiffing a taxi driver for the ride back from Panama Viejo and shying mangos at him from the tree outside the billets. Just another night at work.
Never thought we'd be fighting in downtown Panama three years later. Still seems freakish to me.
And now the entire post is deserted, abandoned to the locals and the rain, the heat and the jungle.
Was it real, or just a dream?
This is a civilian viewpoint. My cousin was a helicopter machine gunner in Nam. Our family would gather in my grandparent's living room when an occasional cassette tape arrived from overseas. A room of silence as we hung on every word, tone, and inflection, followed by boisterous dissection of his message and the war as well. I still have several of his handwritten letters, wish I would have saved them all. He made it back.
I recently re-read those letters along with my father-in-law's Korean war letters, and found many similarities in their observations and commentary to what's been expressed to me by soliders I've communicated through various support sites and blogs over the past four years. What meaning does that hold, I don't know. War is war is war is war,I guess.
One factor that is simply amazing to me, and I'm showing my age here, is the technological advance in communication. Gone are the days of checking the mailbox daily, praying for an overseas letter, tangible assurance a soldier is alive.(sans notice otherwise during the weeks long mailing process) For three years I've communicated with a terrific young man, an infantryman, through pre-deployment, deployment, and now post-deployment. What an incredible difference it made having instant and many times daily communication, particularly through the darkest times of a lengthy deployment.
Again, best to you all and most certainly to MB. You are a treasure.
Great memory of Uncle Al, tw. Thanks.
Thanks to FDChief, Long-time RN and MB. Hope you all are enjoying a pleasant holiday.
TW,
Ranger had his young ass in a sling over Christmas 70. It seems I rec'd a little tree also BUT it had a bottle of whiskey inside that broke in shipping. I got the riot act read to me for that one but actually i was the victim since the bottle got broken. I slap forgot about that until i read your reply.
I had a good friend by the name of Dixon Arment in the 5th Mech around the time you were on station.
As always -best wishes . jim
Anon,
Dogs were fairly rare to my recollection BUT the outdoor restaurant in lovely downtown Long Thanh villagealways had it hanging on the wall.All I ever had was ba mui ba.
The restaurant was right next to the bridge and the local ruff puff and QC used to hang VC bodies on the bridge as warning to the locals.This is the bad part- they used to spray them with GI issue bug repellant to keep the flies off. It worked as the flies stayed in my face and on the meat on the wall.
Those were the good old days. jim
TW,
Cmts on your picture at WHIP, a shau valley.
I notice the montanyard bracelet and your boonie hat appears to be Australian issue or it's been modified.?
When i see pics like this i always remember what a 06 non VN vet said to me-Hruska all of you guys looked like wolves.
I'm always reminded of 3 Dog nite--When i cimb up on the mountain and look out at the sea, i realize there's a better place for a young man to be be. I believe the song was - It ain't Easy.
The AS valley was commonly referred to as the Valley of death.
jim
Long time RN,
I'm going back to the drawing board-nobody, including Lisa calls me a treasure and it's my AO.It's not right making me jealous of MB.:)
jim
TW,
Re. Uncle AL.
There's an old saying in the Airborne- You can tread water but you can't tread air.
jim
Ranger, you're a treasure.
Feel better now?
From Publius, who spent the Christmases from 64-68 outside of the U.S., sometimes freezing, sometimes sweating. And has few memories left.
Publius,
Seasons Greetings. I note a bit of snark in your comment. I didn't mean to imply that was a bad memory, just different.
If you've got some stories that'll raise our hair old man, let's hear 'em.
there were lots of words and nicknames about the a shau. usually given to it by folks that would move heaven and earth not to go there.
i have a zippo that was given to everyone in our unit by our commander. it has a map of the rvn on it and is engraved with
"the a shau, summer 1969
was a bitch."
Ranger, no snark, no bitterness. No stories, either. Just checking in from the road to see what's going on in Ranger-land.
Enjoy the season, everyone.
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