Snipers at Monky Mountain

There were snipers at Monkey Mountain. The mess hall was down close to the beach. The communications bunker where Don worked was about 150 feet inland from the mess hall. There were wood flats that formed a board walk down to the mess hall.

One day they were all going to lunch and a sniper started firing. They could see the bullets causing sand to fly up. Everyone started running. They would run down to the mess hall for a few days and then they would get complacent and walk. Don was shocked that everyone would walk with snipers out there. A few weeks later it would happen again. It happened once or twice a month but they never could flush out the snipers.

Sometimes the Seabees would come over and build stuff for Special Forces and they’d trade them things like AK47s or steaks. They were often over at the Special Forces club house because there was always cold beer there. The Seabees were there a lot because they were building new barracks and they were moving the commo bunker.

Martha Raye, the comedienne, would come by once in a while and stop in at their club. She could out drink and out cuss any of the soldiers.

Monkey Meat at Monkey Mountain

Al and Don got sent to Da Nang, the only ones of the group to go there. They were stationed at Headquarters at Monkey Mountain. As their special forces training dictated, they lived as indigenous people and also picked up some Vietnamese language. They tried to befriend the South Vietnamese because a situation could arise where they might save their lives. The Vietnamese soldiers invited the American Special Forces to a cook out or BBQ. They cooked up monkey meat on a spit. It didn’t taste like chicken. They urged the guys to try this delicious sauce called nuoc mam.
“What is that?” asked Don.
“Fish.”
“Fish?”
Don tried it and it just about did him in. He was gagging like crazy and he couldn’t believe he didn’t puke. He was supposed to be a tough Special Forces guy and couldn’t handle the fish sauce. The Vietnamese found this to be hilariously funny.

Back at the barracks one guy told him it was ground up fish guts. High quality fish sauce or nuoc mam is actually fermented fish. It is generally made from smaller fish, such as anchovies, that don’t have much market value. As soon as the catch comes in it is packed into earthenware crocks with salt and covered with a bamboo mat. It is left to sit in the sun for up to two years. Periodically the mats are removed to air out the fish and allow the sun to help with the “digestion” of the fish. When the fermentation process is complete, the resulting liquid is drained from the crocks and sediments are strained out of it. It is allowed to air in the sun for a few more weeks before it is bottled for use.

Fish sauce is widely used as a salt in Southeast Asia and, with the rising popularity of Thai food in the states, it is catching on here.

Ice Cream and a Shave

After about a week in Cam Ranh Bay the 25 special forces men were sent to Nha Trang. As soon as they walked onto the compound they saw an ice cream store. You ordered and paid and picked up your order at a window on the other end. They had soft serve ice cream, hot fudge and you could get a banana split. No shortage of bananas there! It looked just like a Dairy Queen and that is what they called it.

Across the dirt road on the compound was the barber. Don had been at Nha Trang a couple of days and needed to get a haircut. He walked into the barber shop and saw all the Vietnamese barbers. This made him a little suspicious. After all, they had sharp objects such as scissors and razors.

He saw that there were other Americans in there getting haircuts so he thought it must be OK. The barber gave him a haircut and a shave complete with the hot towel on the face treatment. Then he grabbed Don’s head and jerked it to the left and cracked his neck. “What the heck!?” “Is he trying to kill me?” Don grabbed the arms of the chair and tensed up. The barber grabbed his head again and cracked his neck to the right. It was just part of the services provided.

Welcome to Vietnam

It was his first day in Nha Trang and the sergeant had asked for volunteers to go on a training mission. There was a company of South Vietnamese going out and they wanted a squad of Americans to go with them. They were going to send all the new guys so they had no choice but to go. Then they decided to only send a platoon of Vietnamese and only needed 3 newbies. The men were assured that they wouldn’t see any action as they would be in completely safe areas with no problems. This would just be added training to help them learn to stay alive. Don figured he could use the training.

That night they walked for a long while, keeping quiet until they came to a ridge. They all laid down on the ridge in an L shape with the South Vietnamese forming the long part of the L and the Americans forming the short part.

It was 3AM and Don was wide awake, hunkered down in a banana grove overlooking a small valley and a rice paddy, when he saw a cone shaped hat silhouetted in the moonlit Vietnamese sky. The cone shaped hat was 10 feet from Don at the corner of the L. He reached over and grabbed the arm of the sergeant next to him. The sergeant looked up and saw what Don saw. Don’s hand went to his rifle and he aimed at the cone hat. He was afraid to shoot in case it was a civilian. It was hard to tell over here. The sergeant mouthed the words “Don’t shoot, let them handle it,” nodding his head toward the South Vietnamese platoon. At that very second, all hell broke loose with all kinds of shooting. The South Vietnamese had fired on the cone hat. Later the sergeant told Don that if he had fired he would have drawn fire in their direction. First survival lesson learned.

During the shooting, which probably lasted all of 10 seconds, Don was trying to get as low to the ground as possible. He squirmed and wiggled, literally trying to dig himself a hole in the ground.

When morning came, they discovered an AK 47, blood, and drag marks, so apparently the cone hat had not been alone. As the sun got higher it started to warm up and Don wasn’t scared any more. He stood up and then he smelled it.

What was that awful smell? He looked down and he was covered in s**t. He had been wallowing in it. He was informed that the Vietnamese used banana groves for outhouses and banana leaves for toilet paper. The sergeant and the other guys had a good laugh at Don’s expense and the fear and tension of the long night was broken.

Just great. Welcome to Vietnam

After this engagement they went back and the first thing Don did was take a shower, of course. They reported in and the newbies were still processing in country. All of these men were entitled to a Combat Infantryman’s Badge because they had been engaged in a firefight. The sergeant should have submitted the paperwork for that. When Don went to check on his badge, the clerk told Don he wasn’t doing the paperwork for it.

“Why not?” asked Don.
“Where are you going?” asked the clerk.
“Command and Control North.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll get your CIB there.”
“What do you mean?” asked Don.
“You’ll get fired on there. 7 out of 10 don’t come back from CCN.” Said the clerk.

Don’s eyes got real big when he heard that. He was wondering what he had gotten himself into. When Don got to Command and Control North in Da Nang he did finally get his CIB and he also learned that the clerk’s remarks were exaggerated.

Hello Vietnam!

There was something of a social life at Fort Bragg. Don’s pal Ken had a green Ford Mustang and they would ride around in it and listen to Petula Clark on an 8 track tape. Ken had a big crush on Petula Clark. Most of the guys didn’t have a car. Don’s old friend Al ended up there too, along with a guy named Mark. These guys hung out together.

Al and Don would march over to the building where they had their Morse code class. Al already knew it because he had already gone to radio school and learned it there. Don would pick up a newspaper and before class and during breaks he would read Dear Abbey to the class. He would read in a very dramatic fashion and change around some things to make it funny. “Hey, read Dear Abbey today!” the guys would say.

They asked for 25 radio operators to volunteer for Vietnam. Don was thinking he wouldn’t volunteer for that. That was dangerous. Then he saw Al volunteering, so he did too. He figured he had to look after Al. They needed 25 radio operators distributed throughout Vietnam. Al and Don would be in the 5^th Special Forces.

Ken went to the 8^th Special Forces which was Panama. Mark went to the 3^rd Special Forces and was stationed at Fort Bragg as far as Don knows.

The 25 were sent back to Fort Gordon to get radio teletype training (rtt). This time around they were stationed in real barracks. After rtt training they were given leave. After leave they reported to Fort Lewis and got their paperwork done. They were trucked over to McCord Air Force Base where they hopped on a plane for Vietnam. It was Braniff airlines, a big yellow plane. This was during the Braniff airline campaign called The End of the Plain Plane. They were painted all one color such as metallic purple, turquoise, orange or lemon yellow. The big lemon yellow plane landed in Cam Ranh Bay and they threw the doors open. Don was wary, expecting a lot of shooting but it was nothing like that. It was a beautiful sunny day and people were just walking around. It sure didn’t look like a war zone, but more like a spot that could be a beautiful resort if the army hadn’t been there. They got off the plane and processed in country. All of them had latrine duty while they were waiting to be sent somewhere.

Outside of the hooch (living quarters) there were several of the 106 recoilless rifles. These huge guns made a huge noise. They wondered if it was like this everywhere in the country and if they would have to learn to sleep with all that noise. They just took it one day at a time.

Busted!

Don was studying for a test the next day. Fred came by and said two guys had just graduated from the engineering class. Everybody was getting together to see those guys off and Fred wanted him to come to the party. Don said no, that he had to study. He didn’t know them that well anyway. Fred kept nagging him until he finally said OK just to get him off his back.

As Don walked up the stairs to the door he heard the guys making a lot of noise, shouting things like “Air Mail!” and “Air Travel!” They were proud to be airborne and were celebrating. Unbeknownst to Don, the Officer of the Day was walking by their window and heard all the noise which sounded like a bunch of drunks, because it was a bunch of drunks. About the time Don was knocking on the door, the Officer of the Day must have been starting up the stairs. They let Don in, shut the door and shoved a can of beer in his hand.

As soon as the door closed behind him there was a knock on the door. Fred opened the door and then slammed it shut.
“It’s the Officer of the Day!” he said in a loud whisper.
“Well unless you’re gonna go airborne and jump out the window, open the door. There’s nowhere to go. He knows we’re in here.” said Don.
Fred opened the door and the Officer of the Day came in and started taking names and sending them back to their rooms. Don was really angry at Fred. He should have stuck to his guns and not gone. Everyone got busted down a rank, even Don who hadn’t taken so much as a sip of his beer.

Night Jump

To retain proficiency you had to jump once every three months. Whenever they had a jump you could go if you wanted. Don liked it so much that he went as often as he could at Bragg. It was such a thrill!

On the evening of his first night jump it was windy but they finally decided to go ahead. Don was at the end of the stick. They all shuffled to the front and jumped out. There was no moon and it was pitch black. He was still fairly new at jumping. Usually there was a fire below or a truck with its lights on to indicate where the landing spot was. On this night he could see nothing. When his eyes finally adjusted he saw that he was going into the trees. He hit the trees and fell for a bit. When he came to a stop he was hanging in the trees. He remembered the procedure. Pull the reserve chute, get out of your harness, and slide down the chute to the ground. He fed out the reserve chute and tried to shake it down. He couldn’t see how high up he was. Then he remembered! He was supposed to drop his pot (helmet) to judge how far he was off the ground. He took his pot off, dropped it, and as soon as he let it go he heard THUD. He was only about a foot off the ground!

The riggers came over to get them and Don was the only one who had pulled his reserve. “What the hell’d you do that for?” the riggers wanted to know. “Well, I was way up there…” said Don. “Yeah sure.” Boy did he feel stupid. Once again he was on the riggers’ bad side. The riggers grumbled quite a bit. Don wondered if they had to fill out a report every time someone pulled a reserve. They took everything and threw it in the back of the truck and then everyone grouped on the DZ (drop zone). No one called him on pulling his reserve and he was glad of that.