MEMORIES OF VIETNAM By Wayne Herrington

I know it sounds strange but sometimes I feel mellow and miss it, my life long ago when I was young and far away in another time another place. Strange sights like the ancient tombstones of Vietnamese long dead in the middle of our camp, Camp Forest Lawn the soldiers said. I miss the sound of the Huey flying overhead I miss flying as a gunner on one bringing back the wounded and dead. The unfamilar chatter of the house girls laughing and polishing our boots, the funny smell coming from the containers of food they had. Walking down a dusty village trail looking for spider holes where the VC sometimes fled, pulling up the old lady's bamboo mat looking for a hidden trapdoor. Eating monkey brains and drinking some strange drink with a Montagnard chief in the Highlands. Riding Highway 1 or 19 wondering if some eyes in the trees were watching. Looking at the crater in the road where a command detonated explosive, formerly a U.S. 500 lb bomb, blew up one of our patrol jeeps. Glancing at the hill where a sniper once took a shot at me and remembering my driver grinning and saying "Welcome to Vietnam, Sir!" Presenting several Purple Hearts to our troops at the MP station in An Khe. Visiting Lt. Coleman's platoon supporting the 1st Cavalry Division in the Bong Song Area of Operations. Remembering taking a cold shower after a long, cool, wet rainy day in a jeep with no top, and the cold water actually feeling warm as the body was so chilled. Remembering the excitement one Tet night when bullets from the Vietnamese soldiers celebrating in the next camp over fell into our area. Visiting and having a beer, or more, with some engineers not far away from our area. Going down to Tu Do steet in Saigon and buying a Saigon Tea for some cute young Vietnamese lady. Watching some local band trying to sing songs in English at a bar upstairs somewhere in Saigon. Feeling depressed and looking out over the balcony four floors up at a bar and thinking the ground below could so quickly end everything. Living in a French villa for my three months in Saigon. Stopping in at a Catholic church down the street. And crying as I'd heard a friend had been KIA. Praying to be assigned to a unit in the field as I had no desire to be known as a Saigon Warror.

Getting my wish and flying in a C-130 to Qui Nhon. Where much of the above happened. Landing on Phu Quoc Island at the start of my second voluteer tour in Vietnam. Advising a Vietnamese battalion for a year. Enjoying the Battalion Commander's children in my lap showing me their homework. The spoke no English, I little Vietnamese. Kids are the same the world over. Finally going home. Full of varied memories to this day. Mostly good, some not, but, still important at this point in my life. I was not old then. Glad I made it this far!