THE DIARY…of my tour in South Vietnam only had entries for forty-two days.
It provides no long-term analysis of any consequence
but instead reflects a brief benchmark of firsts from our flight into Tan Son Nhut airport
to our initial training in Saigon and some details of my first assignment in DaNang.

Day One began at 1:30am, just barely a Monday morning in late September.
In a sense, time both stopped and started when we landed.      

Our plane’s dramatic entry energized conversations
but as we moved toward the doors of the plane they dwindled into silence.

We’d left the Real World and were now in the ‘Nam.



        # # #


        In mid-summer 2003 I was asked to read a few selections
of my growing collection of “pieces” at a house concert
some friends were hosting. I chose a variety that I thought
might resonate with an audience of 60 or 70 between the
ages of 30 and eighty-something. Their responses were
emotional, touching and surprising.

                            Among other things I read this:

    WHO KNEW…
        
    The first day I went to An Khe
    was also the first day our unit had hot running water.
    Timing’s everything.
    Our shower engineers said all we needed was                                                                 
    enough sun, a couple of water-filled pods painted black
    mounted on top of our make-shift shower stalls and latrines
    and we were in business. They did this in the field too,
    but there they left off the sides.
    ......That made for some interesting visits.
                
                                                                                                                                                                                      
    During the intermission one of the guests at the house concert came over and started talking to me. He said
    he’d served with the 1st Air Cav in An Khe where I’d mentioned my luck enjoying the unit’s first hot running water.  
         When he referred to that momentous occasion happening in January ’67 I was surprised because I hadn’t
    mentioned any dates. Oh, I knew when it was, he beamed, because I helped your unit get that hot water!

    Our shower engineer!  I hugged him in long-overdue gratitude. His wife said he’d never talked about Vietnam before,
    but he certainly started that evening. It was serendipitous that thirty-six years later and half a world away in the tiny
    town of Grottoes, VA that I'd meet the man who positively affected the morale of an entire Donut Dolly unit one day
    in January 1967 with something as simple as hot running water.  

    Thanks again, Jarmin.
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