My Dad and This Blog - His Experiences in the War

Today, after Joel Libava (@franpro) linked to my blog on his blog for veteran franchises, I finally called my dad to tell him about this blog.

It didn't faze him, since hardly anything ever does. But when I told him that people were reading and responding, he said, "You're kidding me! I thought people would be like, 'Oh yeah, heard that story already.'"

"No, this is really unique," I said. I told him that I'd gotten an email from the people at Soldier's Angels, and that my coworker, @sharakarasic had even left a comment on the blog saying she couldn't wait to read more.

My dad started laughing. "Wow, maybe we'll write a book someday," he said.

"Yes, yes, that's what we're doing!" I told him.

This adventure is exciting for both of us.

From the First Day in Vietnam to Cam Ranh Bay to Trouble

Dad: That was my first day in country. When I knew it was for real. When they open the door to the plane, and there's an MP jeep there with machine guns. I thought, Oh fuck, I really am in Vietnam.

Then they bussed us to Long Binh. It’s kinda like a holding area.

Me: How long were you there?

Dad: A week at least, I know. You just wait for your orders.

That's when I got the first taste of the sound of artillery. You know when you go to the fireworks show? that big boom? As night starts to come, the artillery starts. Every hour you could hear it coming closer. You don't know if it's your imagination or if it's actually getting closer. You can feel the impact from the floor.

They could be miles and miles away, but you hear it getting closer. I remember our first day here, there are slabs that have tents. It's like 40 people to the tent. You got bunk beds. I can remember the sgt. He's telling everybody if you have to go to the latrine, go that way. "I don't want anybody pissing outside the tents." The first night, when it's getting to be around midnight - I thought it was raining. All the guys pissing right outside the tent. It was like, you want me to walk all the way down there by myself? Up yours.

Needless to say I joined them. I ain't walking down there.

Just before daybreak, all the artillery stops. They had the firefights at night time. Very seldom do you have them during daytime unless it's a continuous one.

It was a nothing when I got there. You have the barbed wire around the encampment, but they turned it into an R&R place. They built a swimming pool, all kinds of things.

The orders were to report to the 129th Ordinance Company, Cam Ranh Bay. So they bus you back to Tan Son Nhut, you have to go through Saigon. You can see the outposts with sandbags, machine guns. You get onboard, it was a C130, a Hercules. You walk up the ramp, put your duffle bag where you can get at it easily. I sat on the bench. When you fly through the clouds, the plane jerks. This other captain comes out of the cockpit area. He was telling everybody don't worry about the turbulence, if we get hit by artillary, we're all gonna die.

Cam Ranh Bay was was completely different from Saigon. There's a bunch of buildings, thats where the Air Force stayed. They had actual running water.

Me: You had no running water at the place you stayed in Saigon?

Dad: You know, it wasn't exactly the Ritz.

The company that you're going to already knows that you're going to be there. They'll send a jeep to pick you up. Then they took me to the company. The 100,, 150 guys are going to different companies in the peninsula. Ona peninsula, there's one company here, another here, one down the street. It's like a shuttle bus. There's always a clerk there. So you give him the orders, you tell him who you are. I was there I think 2 days. And then they said, you're being transferred to the 74th supply company.

(My dad points to his lockerbox in the garage, still stamped)

I don't know if they took me or somebody came and got me, but I gave them my orders. So I got to the 74th, you present yourself to the CO. PFV Lopez, Armando R. Reporting for duty. Something to that effect.

They said we don't have room for you in any of our hootches, but they have a big tent that holds like 40 people. You stay there until they can find a bunk for you.

What happened was, when I first got there, there was nobody to report to. Stayed in the holding tent for one week. I made the bed. And then they said when the company comamnder, the first sgt or the Ex O, the Executive Officer, second in command, comes, then they'll come assign you a hootch, a bed and your job. But until they assign you all that, you don't do anything.

So. On the first night, I went to the mess hall with everyone else and ate.

Me: Did you sit by yourself?

Dad: No, there were other guys there. But you don't know them from Adam, they don't know you from Adam.

So I went back to the tent. I'm waiting for someone to come and call me to report. Nothing happened that night. In the morning, I get up, and I get in line, I go eat. Nobody's asking me who I am, when did I get here, how many days I got left.

Everyone's going to work the motorpool or the depot or wherever they're assigned their job. The depot is a huge, huge, huge area with a bunch of buildings, that's where the supplies are. From there they get issued throughout the country.

So the second morning, I get up, I go get breakfast, then I go back to the tent. I figured, ain't nobody looking for me, why should I volunteer? I go to lunch, I go to dinner. Nobody comes for me. I go back. This went on for a week. I figured, that's one week down out of my year in the country.

On the seventh day it got boring. So now I got to figure out how tell them I've been here for a week. I don't want to make them feel like they're dumbasses or something like that. So I got dressed, I got my papers, I went inside. The company clerk is there, same guy. I told him I had orders to report. He didn't even remember I've been there for a week. Dumb ass. He said the captain's here. He goes in there, PFC Lopez is here to report.

So I go in there, and I present myself, and they said, we've been looking for you. We didn't know what happpened.

I said I had been with the 129th. They said, "They finally released you?" I said, "Yes, sir!" So I got away with that one.

I had been in country for at least 3 weeks. I figured that's three weeks down. 11 months and days left.

So they assigned me my hootch and my bunk.

Me: How many people to a hootch?

Dad: Eight people to a hootch. They're bunk beds. For people who are E4 and below. I was E3 at this time. Private First Class.

Then they issue you a weapon. They write down the serial number. You sign for it. It was an M14. And then they issue you your gear, your backpack, your mess kit, canteen, gun belt. The jungle boots, the fatigues, the helmet, all that stuff. And you check it out, you sign for it. 'cause you're responsible for it.

So then they told me I was going to be working at the depot.

When I got to the depot, one of the guys, I don't know if he was in the same company or not, I forget, he was working at the Korean liason office there at Cam Ranh.

Me: Korean Liason?

Dad: The go-between. He had said that they needed another person. And it's inside an air conditioned building. And he said, Why don't you volunteer?

So after the day, when I got back, I told them there was an opening at the Korean liason office, and I'm volunteering to fill the spot. They said OK. I didn't know what the job entailed or anything. I didn't know at the time that there were Korean soldiers there.

So the following day, I go there and they introduce me to the lieutenant in charge, and other people. They said you're going to be dealing with the Koreans. I thought they meant Koreans in Korea. I wondered why the fuck they had a liason office for Korea - we're in Vietnam.

I don't know how many days later that the Koreans came in. They introduced me to Captain Kim, Captain Lee was there. I forget who else. They said this is PFC Lopez, he's gonna be working with you guys.

Me: So what was it like, the work?

They bring in the orders from the Koreans, what they need. The different air hangars has the different supplies. Plus out in the middle, it had to be stacked 100 feet tall with supplies, out in the open. Dried food, medical supplies, clothing, boots. It was just stacked there. You go to the different hangars to fill the orders. You go get the stuff, then you make arrangements for them to come pick it up. For huge orders, you make arrangements for it to be taken to the airfield, to fly to the outposts. It was strictly for the US army and the Koreans. The Marines, they took care of themselves. There was a division. There was no love lost between the Army and the Marines. I thought we were all in this together, but no, it wasn't like that. "The Navy's a bunch of pussies, the Air Force is a bunch of pussies," that's what they all were saying.

So one day, the Koreans were there and I was talking to them. And I forget who it was, but I told them I wanted to go visit the Korean troops. Spend the night with them, eat their food, try to get to know them, know what's going through their minds and stuff.

They told me I had to make arrangements with my company. So when I got back, I told the company commander that the Koreans had invited me to go to their camp, spend a couple of nights with them, to get to know them. He said yeah, I could do it. He'll cut me a pass. Because every morning, everyone's counted to make sure nobody went AWOL. If you had a pass, then you had an excuse.

Me: Did anyone ever go AWOL?

Dad: Not there. In 'Hood. There was one guy in Aberdeen. They caught them.

Me: Did they get in trouble?

Dad: Yeah, big time.

Me: What kind of trouble?

Dad: You get court marshalled and jail time. And jail time is dead time, it doesn't count toward your two years.

Anyways, I went back and told the Koreans I could go. They said they'd pick me up that evening. So I went back, and told the guys in the hootch that I'll be spending a couple of days with the Koreans, that I'd be back.

I got my field gear on. My backpack, my weapon, all that.

The Koreans came and picked me up, just like they said they would.

See, now, I'm being assigned to the Korean Army, just in case something happens during the two or three day pass and I don't get back. Like if someone blows up the bridge.

I know the first sgt. didn't want me to go.

Me: Why not?

Dad: Me and him didn't get along. He's third in command of the entire company.

He was a racist. When he was sober, he was probably one of the best soldiers I ever known. Guy knew how to command, how to lead. The guy built us a little bar there at the campsite. He lied about the supplies for the wood and nails. He got a pool table for us. He had some of the guys who knew how to build things to build a bar. When he was sober, the guy was great. He bought beer, he had it shipped in, nobody knows how he did it. He bought pallets of beer. I mean, pallets of beer. Now, ice was a problem. So most of the time you're drinking warm beer. What he did was, he had two guys man the bar. They were selling beers for five cents a can. You can either buy it five cents Vietnamese money, or if you happened to have a nickel, which you don't want to have. It's illegal to have American money in a war zone because of the black market. It was maybe 2 cents American per beer. They're not gauging you or anything like that. The bar was more like a rec room more than anything else. At Cam Ranh, there was also a big bar where they had music, entertainment, hard liquor.

He was from Texas. The problem with him was when he got drunk and that was almost every night. When he got drunk, then he got mouthy. And it's "You know my family owns half of Texas." That's how big their ranch is. Every Texan I've met owns half of Texas. I thought there was only two halves, but according to all Texans, each one of them owns a half.

And he would always talk about the Mexican workers that they had there.

When he was drunk, he would say, "When the wetbacks want more money, we just called Immigration and have them shipped back across the border. And we just hire more Mexicans, they don't know any better."

When he was sober, it was like, "Mexicans are the greatest workers, you don't have to watch them, you don't have to oversee them, they're the best workers."

When we were sitting around drinking, I made the comment to someone that he was a fat fucking bigot. And he heard.

Me: Were you drunk?

Dad: I don't think so.

Me: I think you were.

Dad: I might have had a buzz.

(We both laugh)

Me: So you made what comment?

Dad: That he was a fat fucking bigot.

Me: Was he?

Dad: Yes! When he was drunk, they were wetbacks, they're dumb, they're nothing. When he was sober, they were the best workers he ever had.

Why he would get that way when he was drunk was beyond me.

So either he heard me or somebody told him. Well, that's insubordination. You can't be doing that. He wanted to court marshall me. There are three stages of court marshall. One is Article 15. Usually it's one month's pay, you're confined to quarters. You might have to do extra duty.

The next day the captain wanted to see me. The XO stopped me when I was going in. He said, "What happened last night?" I told him. He said the first sgt. wanted to slap me with an article 15.

I remembered Mr. Peeples at the playground had told me - you never wanted to get anything, even an article 15. And I promised him I wouldn't.

The XO says, if you volunteer to go with the Koreans, you won't get anything. You won't get an Article 15 or a summary court marshal.

I didn't know to what exent the Koreans were in Vietnam. It was not exactly an official transfer. It was more like, just go.

(this is from the transcript of September 14, 2008)

BlogWorld & New Media Expo 2008 - Support the Veterans and Soldiers

I just got back from BlogWorld in Las Vegas and I met more interesting and fabulous people than I can count here. Special shout-outs to @jodiontheweb, @ebillme, @britneymason, @chrisbrogan and @franpro.

What's relevant to this blog, however, is the connection I made at the Military.com booth exhibit. I met a really wonderful lady who introduced me to Soldier's Angels, a non-profit and believe it or not, non-partisan group that "adopts" soldiers overseas by sending them postcards once a week and care packages once a month. As you may have guessed, I am not a fan of the war, nor am I a fan of the administration that has placed so many disadvantaged young men and women overseas, but I am in the corner of our soldiers and veterans for obvious reasons.

If you can't commit to a five-time monthly correspondence, consider one of the other projects the Soldier's Angels have going on, including planting trees, creating gift baskets for families of those deployed and more.

Hate the war, not the soldiers.

Full Transcript: September 13, 2008 - The Draft Notice to Landing in Vietnam

This is beginning with my father getting his draft notice.

Me: What were you doing that morning?

Dad: I was here, not doing anything, and the mailman delivered the mail.

Me: We're going to make this difficult aren't we?

Dad: You asked me a question and I answered it!

Me: You got the mail. Did you know what it was?

Dad: The minute I saw the envelope, oh fuck yes. No doubt in my mind. Me: How old were you>

Dad: I was 19. October 1965.

Me: What did you do?

Dad: I looked at it first. I saw the return address. Nobody that I knew had been drafted at that time. I never thought that I was going to be drafted. I don't know why.

Selective Service System. This is the letter you get and look at the way it starts: "Greetings!" October 29, 1965, that's when they stamped it so it was probably mailed four days before.You are hereby ordered ...

Me: I can't believe it, they gave you 17 days to get your affairs in order?

Dad: Oh, yeah.

This is my draft notice. So when I saw the envelope, I already knew what the fuck it was

Me: How did you feel?

Dad: It was kinda like, oh fuck. Kinda like a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Me: Did you ever think you'd get drafted?

Dad: For whatever reason, I didn't think so. I don't know why I hesitated to open it, 'cause I already knew what the fuck it was. Maybe it wasn't true. I just looked at it, knew what it was. And at first I figured, OK, I'll go there, I'll take my next physical. I had already taken two physicals in high school. I thought I'll take the physical and fail. I had asthma when I was a kid. When I got there, at 1033 S. Broadway, I thought hey, I’ll just tell them I have asthma and then they won't take me.

You get there, you have to fill out forms and all kinds of shit and everything. One of the things I checked was I had asthma. Well, they had forms of the other 2 physicals that I had taken, that I had never checked I had asthma. I said, "Yes, I do!" And they said, well you have to talk to this doctor. The guy was a major. He said, in your other two physicals, you didn't check that you had asthma. I said, I forgot. He told me, "Too late. You're in." My first words were, "Oh, fuck." That's exactly what I said.

Me: What did your parents say? They didn't say anything. It was like, "OK." They didn't say anything, really.

************************************

Guys were just coming in left and right, guys who had been drafted. At 5 or 5:30, they close the doors. The files that they had left, they turned them over to the FBI. These are draft dodgers, or they're in the hospital.

Maybe I was in a daze. They ask you to raise your hand to take the oath, and they tell that whether you raise your hand or not, you're in the service. I raised my hand. "I Armando R Lopez..." There were some guys there who didn't raise their hand but it didn't make any difference. They fed me right around the block. Greasy spoon restaurant type of thing (laughs)you could order anything you want because they're paying for it. My dad took me there, he dropped me off. There was no conversation whatsoever. My mind was, gee I’m going into the service, I don't know how to deal with this, I don't know what to expect, type of thing. I probably was more scared than anything else.

I didn't recognize anybody. I could have gone to Mexico, we had family down there that worked with the government, and Mexico was accepting draft dodgers. But it just wasn't in me to run.

I had been there twice before. for physicals. Once you're 18 you have to sign up for the draft. I thought hey, what are the chances of me getting drafted? I got there at 830 in the morning. they sent a lot of us to the restaurant around the corner, somewhere around 5.

Me: Were you doing a lot of waiting around?

Dad: That's all you're doing.

I was there for 10 to 12 hours at least. after you fill out all your forms and all that, then you went to go eat, then you go back, or you could take off running, whatever you want to do. When you go there and you give them your name and SS number, you have a choice - What area of the armed forces would you like? "Air Force." All booked up we have no more room. We have the Marines or the Army. I chose Army.

Anyway, after I get back, we're just sitting around, waiting around, we got buses here 'cause we're going to LAX. I don't think it was called LAX then. But it was Los Angeles International Airport. So. Lot of police around. Lot of LAPD around. You were given a number card, a group that you belonged to. In the letter they tell you just take basic things with you. you know, wear pants, shirt, a basic kit as far as deodorant, stuff like that. the buses are there. you board the buses and they take you to LAX. From there you're going to be flown to your basic training camp.

At 5 or 5:30, they close the doors. All the stacks of stuff, guys that didn't report, they take all those stacks, they take it to the FBI, the FBI goes out and looks for him.

Prior to this letter, they sent a letter saying, if you get inducted, here's what you bring. I just thought, everybody gets them, so what the fuck?

Me: What about your parents? What were they saying before you went in to report?

Dad: It was kinda like there, was no conversation. There was just no conversation.

(We're watching PBS. Andre Rieu. Occasionally, my dad will stop talking and turn off the mute button and watch the performance.)

Dad: I just took a sack of might have been one razor blade, deodorant, didn't bring any clothes. I might have. I don't remember. But as far as clothes, maybe a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, a pair of socks, underwear. That was it. All I thought was, just gotta go in.

We landed in Houston. I saw the Houston Astrodome. From Houston, we took off again on the plane. We went to Louisiana. We landed, I don’t remember where, we boarded a plane called Trans Texas airline, something like that. It had 17 passengers, which were soldiers that were going, and there were five personnel. There was the pilot, the copilot, two stewardesses. They had those little hats. They gave us a little cup of coca cola.

Me: They gave you a can of coca cola?

Dad: No, a little cup! I felt like, what the fuck is this?

We landed in Fort Polk, Louisiana. It was already daylight.

Me: Were you scared on the commuter plane?

Dad: Not really, I kinda thought Jesus Christ, can't you do ... I mean one crack and we're all gonna die.

We finally got to Fort Polk. They put you in the barracks that you're gonna be in. These are barracks that have no air conditioning or anything. the only warmth you had is pot belly stoves. Someone has to stay up all night to feed it wood. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe this was happening.

This is where you're going to get your haircut, your uniforms. This is your first base. And there you're gonna be assigned. I got my first hair cut there. You're getting paid now. You're on the payroll. My first hair cut, they just shave you. You get your first kit. You get your first razor, your first razor blade, your first little thing of deodorant, and it's just a little thing. Your first thing of shaving cream. your first towel, your first bar of soap. That way you don't have an excuse why you're not clean.

It doesn't mean you're gonna stay there. I’m glad I didn't, it was the home of the first infantry. The Big Red One. When you're there in the induction center, part of the fort, you're put in these WW2 housing. Since then, they've all been torn down and rebuilt.

The corporals and sergeants. We called them dog faces. Like bulldogs, their cheeks and jowls hung down. They got their asses kicked big fucking time. They should have been killed. These were the corporals.

You're brand new. You don't know anything. So if someone gets in your face... But these guys. You have to understand one thing. Being in Louisiana, you're in the south. The south is still the south. If you're not white, you're not right.

Me: What was the ethnic makeup of the new soldiers you saw?

Dad: A lot of blacks, some Mexicans, a lot of whites. Looking back, there was mostly blacks. The corporals were white. And we're talking the south, and they still haven’t forgotten the civil war. I was there for two weeks. They kept fucking with all the black soldiers. I mean, just fucked with them. All minorities.

I was taught by somebody at Evergreen Playground. He taught me how to be a soldier. That's where I was hanging out with the guys. He taught me how to march, how to salute. I was already ... I already knew all that stuff before I went in. Mr. Peeples, he was black. I told him I was drafted. He said OK, I'm gonna teach you how to be a soldier. This is what they're gonna do to you. They're gonna get in your face. I am going to teach you how they're not gonna fuck with you and you're gonna be a good soldier, an exemplary soldier. For two weeks I went down there every single day.

They fucked with the minorities, especially with the black guys. You’re nothing.

Me: Did they call them the N word?

Dad: What do you think?

And what happened right before I left, they called they blew the whistle, they had a horn, everybody gets out of the barracks. And you all just stand in whatever lines you stand in. And I remember them doing it. The major, the MPs, two MPS, and they had everybody standing in line. And they said put your hands up. And they went down every line. Palms up and they went to check everybody’s hands palms down to see who had bruises. To see who beat the two corporals. Never found them. Was everybody happy? Everybody was happy. They damn near killed them. They knocked all their teeth out, broke their hands, broke their arms, ribs, I mean they almost beat them to death. It was that bad. But after that, all the people that were in charge didn't fuck with anybody else anymore.

A day or two later, we were gonna be fed dinner. This was like oh, about eight o’clock at night, maybe nine o’clock we're all just milling around. There was about five hundred guys, just milling around. milling around by the mess hall. We were waiting to get in. We were talking. At least three hundred guys, we're smoking. and there's barracks there.

And these doors open up. And this sergeant comes out with this Smokey the Bear hat, five foot nothing. Drill instructor and he's looking down. "All my little babies are trying to sleep right now. You mother fuckers are not going to interrupt my girls' sleep. Anybody has a problem with that, get your fucking asses up here one at a time or all at once!"

I looked up and thought, King Kong did have a son. His troops were his babies. You could have heard a cigarette drop on the dirt. Nobody was talking, nobody was even breathing. I knew he was looking right at me. Oh son of a bitch. "I don't want to hear a fucking noise out here again," the drill sergeant said.

There's like three hundred guys at least, and nobody said a fucking word. I thought, I don't want to be here, I don't want to take basic training here. I mean, this was a bad ass mother fucker.

After that is where they were going to assign everybody they divided up everyone into 500 groups. Group one you're going to be taking basic training in north fort Polk. I was in group four. group two you're going to be in south fort Polk. Group three you're going to be going to fort hood, Texas. Group four, you'll be going to also be going to fort hood, Texas.

I was like YES! Just get me the fuck out of here, I don't want to be here.

Two weeks. There's nothing, absolutely nothing. No TV, books, you're just there in a confined area. You're a recruit, you're nobody. You're bald. You're just waiting.

And from there they bussed us to Fort Hood. First time I ever saw cotton fields. You see the black people out there picking the cotton. We were put on buses, I don't know if they were greyhound buses. I thought this cotton-picking by blacks was only on TV. It was for real.

Me: Because you grew up in California.

Dad: Exactly.

We finally got to Fort Hood, Texas. They take you in front of the company that you're going to be doing basic training with. And they usually have the fist sergeant come out. You're in the army already. So you're told, get your asses out of the bus, do this and that. You're going to be assigned to the 48th infantry. 'Cause now you're starting your basic training.

I remember our platoon, we were first or second platoon. But our platoon sergeant, he looked worse than I do now. That fat fuck couldn't run from here to the curb there. See, the army always tells you that if I can't do what I’m asking you to do, then I can't ask you to do it. This fat fuck, who was prejudiced, he was just a nobody for me. I just came off the streets, so I can run, I can do all the calisthenics, I had no problem with that whatsoever. I did have a problem with the 10-mile walk? You always had a backpack. I made it, though, I made it.

Altogether I was there for six months. 10 weeks of basic training. Two of them are a lot of paperwork. I mean you fill out forms, all kinds of forms.

And then you start your basic training. I did excellent. From there, you go to your training school of what they think you're supposed to be. From there, they sent me to Aberdeen Proving Grounds, Maryland. For ordinance school. I went through basic training for three months, they sent me to Aberdeen Proving Grounds for three months, and then I went back to Texas to the first Calvary, headquarters, second Armored Division.

The fat fuck - he didn't use the N word at all. But it's kind of like he wanted people to fail. Because he couldn't do it, what he was asked to teach you how to do. And it's kinda like, you're not gonna keep me down. I'm not gonna fail. It's not that I'm not gonna fail you, I'm not gonna fail.

He didn't like his supporting sergeants. He was black himself, but he always fucked with minorities. My take on it was that he got no respect.

Ordinance school in Maryland: how to order things, how to deal with small weapons, parts of weapons, how to identify parts of weapons. Maybe fifty people in class. Half fun, half boring.

Then I went back to Fort hood. I liked it. I wanted to go back there. Probably because I didn't know any other fort. During basic training, it wasn't until the sixth week that we were allowed to go to the clubs, on the fort. All you can buy there is hamburgers, hot dogs, cheeseburgers and beer. No hard liquor. None at all. Because of your rank.

I remember one dipshit that stabbed himself. He was just so uncoordinated. You have to run with a fixed bayonet. But he threw the rifle up with the bayonet on it. And stabbed himself in the shoulder.

We had some derelicts in basic. Randy Sheilds from Brownsville, Texas. I'll never forget him. He couldn't shave himself if he had Martha Stewart helping him, he was that much of a dumbfuck. His parents had given him an electric razor, but it didn't work. I remember the sergeant throwing it down, stomping on it, and saying you're gonna use a razor blade like everyone else!

When we had inspection, you're given new stuff, a canteen, the new ones have parapheen paper and there's kinda like a wax inside of it. So you're told take it into the bathroom, 'cause there's a big sink there, and wash all the wax off. Well, he didn't exactly comprehend when they said get your shit straight away, get it together. So when we had inspection, all the wax was still on his stuff. And I truly believe his parents talked him in to signing up. Get the fuck out of our house! He was not a draftee. He volunteered. I'd have never wanted him on my squad. That guy... he just couldn't comprehend anything.

There were some fights in Maryland between the whites and the Puerto Ricans. I can remember one of the guys in charge said, if any of the guys think they're going to go to Alexandria, he said, if you're black or minorities, don't go by yourself. They don't like minorities. He was a sergeant.

Then I was assigned to the first Calvary, working in the motor pool. That's where all the vehicles were at. Everyone was assigned to the motor pool. The tanks, the half tracks - half wheels, half tracks. They call them half tracks. I can remember that one guy, when I got back to Texas, this guy got drafted. He was a half inch or an inch short and he couldn't be a military police. He was in the san franchisor police dept. They wouldn't give him a break. Probably one of the worst soldiers. He would always be sleeping in the tanks. He was a good police man, good guy, but because of his height, he couldn't be a military police.

Because they didn't tell me how long I was going to be there, I thought I wasn't going to Vietnam. It had already been nine months, now. Spent three months working. Went to bars in the fort. The EM bars. Enlisted Men bars.

That asshole corporal. He was one of the ones during basic training that was an asshole. He was going nowhere. That's why he was only a corporal. He said Tomorrow morning you report to theater four. Well, theater four is your induction, meaning you're going to Vietnam. I can remember telling him, "OK! I was just wondering when you were going to tell me." 'cause what he wanted me to do, was panic, And I remember him telling me, what do you think about that? He definitely wanted me to panic, oh god. Hey - fuck you. I ain't giving you the satisfaction.I thought I was smarter than having to go, because of the jobs I was given.

I was given a thirty day leave. You can take it, or you can take a week leave, a two week leave, a thirty day leave is a whole year of vacation. I came home.

I went down to Melchor and Marie's. I didn't say anything. For a coincidence, they were living about three or four blocks away from East L.A. College in Monterey Park. And I get my way there, and coincidentally, Grandma and Grandpa went there that same day. Got there, and they got there about half an hour, an hour afterwards. It wasn't that much time later. They saw me there, and they said, oh! you're here! And I said I had just gotten here. I said, I have a thirty day leave. Before I go back. And I remember Grandma saying, Oh that's good.

I had already gotten my orders about where I'm going.

We're just there and then I figure, I might as well tell them. Why prolong the thing. So my mom asked me, how long are you going to be here? And I said a month. I still didn't say anything.

And then I told them well, I got orders that I'm going to be assigned to a different place now. And she said oh, where are you going? that's when I told them, I got my orders, I'm going to Vietnam. She didn't say anything. Nothing.

Grandpa, my dad, on the other hand, "Why are you going there? You didn't lose anything there. I don't even know why you're going there." I said, because I’m being ordered to go to Vietnam, those are my orders. "I don't know why you're going there." Because that's what my orders are. That's where I'm going. "Well, you know if you'd have done like your brother did ... you'd have stayed out of Vietnam."

What Melchor had done is at that time, this is the way the draft worked.you and I are both draftable. you get married, you're put down here on the list. If you join the reserves, your put down here. If you're having a kid, you're put way down here. He got married in '64. In '72, Sandra was nine years old, and that's when president Johnson said we're going to start bringing the troops back home because it's not a winning war, we're going to lose. So basically the war was over. Melchor comes home with all kinds of hickeys on his neck. And tells Marie, I’ve been cheating on you, you might as well divorce me. Well there was no chance of him going to war. they were pulling the troops back.

The day comes now. They gave me airfare from LAX to Oakland. The day I had to leave, my dad was still working. I went to where he was working, somewhere in east l.a. He was doing construction work. He gave me twenty dollars. I do believe he told me "Good luck," or something to that extent. I was scared then. I got to the airport. From there, I flew up to Oakland, which was the debark station. You're going to debark from there. I was there for two days at the debark station base. The bunks were good. They fed you good. (starts laughing)

The thing I’ll always remember ... when I left Fort Hood, in the bathrooms, there's always graffiti. and it's ... you can't believe it. "My mother's a whore. My sister's the biggest fucking dealer. My father's a drunk, he never cared for us."

Then you get to Oakland, because from there, you know you're going to the 'Nam. You can't believe what's written there: "With God's help, I'll come home safely. Dear Mom, Dad, please forgive me for whatever wrong I have done. Jesus Christ, I’ve always loved you."

It's kinda like, months ago, she was a fucking whore and now all of a sudden, please forgive me? Swear to god! I am not lying! "Please god, bring me back alive." These things were on the fucking doors. I laughed. I could understand it. Now it's hey, I've done wrong, I don't wanna go where I have to go, come on and help me, god.

Then you got on the bus, and you're taken over to Travis Air Force Base. We had MPs, bus, MP, bus, MP, bus ... there had to been like, oh Jesus, twenty buses? Anyway, we're taken across the bridge, and then I can still remember when we're going into the air base, and at that time, there was not civilians walking around. what they did, is they shut ... before we get to the air base itself, you have to go through city streets, and they shut the signals down and they have police that are going across the intersection where nobody can cross them. The street is shut down. on the base itself, there was MPs with machine guns. and we were taken directly into the base and onto the runway. The base is shut down. because of the protests that were going on and that stuff.

We were taken onto the tarmac. Everybody has their duffle bags. You've already been assigned a plane. there were three planes there. you already have a number of which plane you're assigned to. we get there and there's military police all over the fucking place. we got there and they blew a horn and everybody stops. what I was told is they don't want anybody jumping off the buses and running away. they locked the air force base down. when they blow the horn, everybody just freeze right where you're at. so they take us on to the tarmac, they said okay, the one that I had was the middle plane, continental airlines. the buses stop, you get your duffle bag and you walk directly to the plane. so you get on the plane and the plane takes off.

The stewardesses say we're going to Hawaii for a layoever. Nobody gives a shit.

We land in Hawaii, they take us off the plane, and they put us in the terminal. It's roped off. They have MPs here. They did open up the concessions, you can buy sodas, water, chips, no beer, no alcohol whatsoever.

We get back on the plane. What they were doing was changing stewardesses. From there, we were going to be Clark air force base, manila. in the Philippines. the stewardesses had only contracted to fly to Hawaii. in flight from Hawaii to manila, we had movies, those earphones for music. I know they fed us four times. we got to Clark air base. and from there they changed stewardesses again.

I remember we were flying, and I remember the pilot coming over the speakers, and saying we are now entering the coast line of Vietnam, so everyone has to put their window shades down. no more smoking. we're entering the coast line. everybody take your seats. I had the stewardess say well, we're entering Vietnam now. stewardess said you have an empty seat here. she said, well I live in san Francisco and here's my name and number. I know you're probably gonna come back to Vietnam. I told her I didn't give a shit. I'm landing in Vietnam!

Everybody has to look out the window. Everybody has to peek. The guy is like we're flying at 30,000 feet. we have half an hour and we'll be landing at Tan Son Nhut. Saigon. then all of a sudden, your asshole is sucked up from your seat. they drop the plane. so they don't get shot at. half of your asshole is still hooked up to your seat. then they land and everything. and then the doors open. and then you look out.

There's a jeep there with an M60. Everyone get out of the plane, hurry up. kinda like, what the fuck.

I was like, I can't believe it. I cannot believe I'm here.

We get to the first meal, we're told where we're gonna spend the night. Right there at the airport. there might have been buses.

But I know that one captain came in and said, "I want everybody to stay in tonight. Charlie wants this air base real bad."

Across the road there was a big empty space. I remember telling the captain, "I have an idea. Charlie wants this air base real bad? How 'bout we give Charlie this air base, and we go build one over there?"

He said, "You think you're being fucking funny? You think this is a fucking joke?

I said, "Jesus Christ doesn't anybody have a sense of humor around here?"

Spent two nights in Tan Son Nhut. From there I went to Long Binh. Spent two weeks there, then went back to Tan Son Nhut, then from there I went to Cam Ranh.

Conversations With My Father - Part One

This is a tidbit of this weekend's marathon memory session with my dad. It is the account of when he first landed in Vietnam, in late summer of 1966:

Then they land and everything. And then the doors open. And then you look out. There's a jeep there with an M60. They start yelling, "Everyone get out of the plane, hurry up." I was like, I can't believe it. I cannot believe I'm here.

We get the first meal and we're told we're gonna spend the night right there at the airport. This one captain came in and said, "I want everybody to stay in tonight. Charlie wants this air base real bad."

I'll never forget what I said to this captain.

Across the road there was a big empty space. Just fields and fields. I remember telling the captain, "I have an idea."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"Charlie wants this air base real bad? How 'bout we give Charlie this air base, and we go build another one over there?"

He said, 'You think you're being fucking funny? You think this is a fucking joke?"

I was like, "Jesus Christ, doesn't anybody have a sense of humor around here?"

The Beginning of the Journey

Today is September 12, 2008. In 10 weeks, my father and I will be en route to Vietnam.

My father is a Vietnam veteran. I understood this from the time I was small. I don't remember the first conversation my dad ever had with me about his time in the war, but I always understood that it was a big part of Who He Was. And today, it is still Who He Is. He is my father, yes. He is the father, a good father, to two grown adults - me, his 32-year-old daughter, and my brother, his 29-year-old son. My father has a 7-year-grandson. He is a good grandpa. He has one living parent, his mom. He is my grandma's full-time caretaker. He volunteers at the local homeless shelter.

He is a Vietnam War Veteran.

My father lives a quiet, retired life in Ontario, CA. But I know that he thinks about the war every day. I know he does.

About two years ago, I told my dad that I thought he should return to Vietnam to come full circle, to heal. He thought I was out of my fucking mind, and told me as such. "Uh, I don't need to 'heal,' and anyways, there IS no healing. There's NOT gonna be any 'full circle," he said with some disgust.

What began as me trying to get my father to go to Vietnam became something even more personal. I wanted to go back to Vietnam, I realized. I wanted to "go back" to back to the country where the person who would become my dad was formed. A country I had heard about for so many years. I wanted to see the jungles where my father went on patrols. I wanted to visit Saigon. I wanted to see Cam Ranh Bay, where my father was stationed.

So, I told my father I was going to Vietnam with or without him.

Within a few weeks, "You are NOT going to Vietnam" became "I can't let you go to Vietnam alone" (this, even though I have traveled alone for more than 10 years).

My father and I got our visas and plane tickets and we are booked for the first three nights of our 12-day trip at a budget hotel in the backpacking district of Saigon (or Ho Chih Minh City as it is now known).

I have known for a long time that I wanted to write this all down. I have memories of memories of my father. I remember him looking up at the sky whenever police or news helicopters (he insists on calling them "choppers") hover over the neighborhood... and this was just last year.

I remember him talking about his fear, being petrified while being led into an ambush that forced him to do something that most of us would never believe we could do to another human being.

I remember him talking about Kim, his fellow soldier in the Korean Army. The Koreans fought along side the Americans during the war. Most people don't know that.

I remember him talking about his racist captain. I remember him telling me that in basic training, he was not able to visit the local bar because of the signs that read "No dogs or Mexicans allowed." It was 1966. It was Texas.

Most of all, I want to write the story because as my dad says, we're not getting any younger.

Tomorrow, I am going to bring a tape recorder and my dad and I are going to sit down and we're going to talk. My dad loves to talk, especially after a few beers. I asked him if we could start with the day he came home, and got his draft notice in the mail.

"Sure," he said. "I've still got my draft notice. I'll always have it."