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Subject: Gunfighter - Part 6 Date: Monday, 27-May-96 11:39 pm From: John Burch To: My Family The South China Sea extended off the east coast of Vietnam and up to the China coast about 1,000 miles to the north. In the day-to-day drudgery of combat in South Vietnam, we didn't have time to think often about the fact that China Beach, just 10-15 miles east of DaNang, was the Riviera of the Orient. In pre-war days, the China Beach area had been a very popular spot for the rich of this part of the world. Located at the foot of what we knew as "Monkey Mountain" was one of the most beautiful stretches of beach that you have ever seen. In the height of the Vietnam war, this small spot of natural beauty became the "in-country" Rest and Recuperation (R&R) area for Marines in the field. After weeks in the jungle and endless nights of damp boredom, mud and insects mixed with hours of sheer terror in firefights that began and ended without warning and from all directions, those brave Marines truly needed some time to unwind. China Beach, with its sun and sand, became the perfect rest needed to put themselves together before going back into the jungle to do it all again. I didn't get there often. In my entire year, I think I made it to China Beach perhaps 3-4 times. But working 12 hours a day (plus) and 7 days a week often became a problem for most of us. My Director of Maintenance (and my immediate boss), Colonel McCaskill, gave us some very sage advice on how to deal with it. He told us to simply vary our routine on Sundays. Somehow, our internal clocks were used to a weekend. Though we worked the same days and hours, simply reversing our schedule on Sundays made it seem again like a real weekend. He often invited his staff (his deputies and the three squadron commanders, including me) to his trailer for Sunday breakfast, which he cooked himself. What a difference that little thing made in our week! The other thing he advised was to take a few hours in the afternoon on Saturday or Sunday and go to China Beach. That sounds simple enough, but it meant a short 10 mile travel by USAF bus through the little village of DaNang, past Monkey Mountain and on to the ocean. Living on DaNang, with its barbed wire fences, perimeter mines and an entire Marine Division for defense, gave you a feeling of security (even though you got rocket attacks nightly.) When you got to China Beach, it was also guarded by Marines. But that 10 miles in between was risky territory and drove right through the village that was swarming with people. On at least two occasions during my year, busses had been bombed on that route. It was usually a little child who tossed the bomb aboard! It really made you think long and hard about it each time you got up the courage to go. We often joked that the reason China Beach, itself, was safe was because the Vietcong ALSO used China Beach as an R&R area. I'm sure it was true! One of my pastimes on those short excursions to the beach was sailing. The Recreation Center there had Sunfish sailboats to check out for sailing. I loved the feeling of freedom and "back to the real world" feeling that you could experience for a few moments racing before the wind just offshore beyond the breakers. Another few hundred yards beyond that you could usually see Vietnamese fishing boats sail by. I made a point of not going out too far. After a few delightful hours like that, it was back to the grind. As we took the bus back to DaNang, we drove again past Monkey Mountain. On top of that large hill was an Air Force radar installation. And someplace on that jungle covered hill was a Vietcong gunner whose aim was so bad that nobody ever tried to shoot back. He fired at most aircraft that passed, but always aimed low and behind the target. He never learned to lead the target with his aim and happily used tons of enemy munitions over the year that I was there. One of the real lifesavers for me during that year in Vietnam ws the opportunity to escape the dreary days and muggy, rocket-filled nights for a few hours as navigator for Gunfighter Airlines. This was the C-47 cargo operation piloted by guys in my barracks. When they flew over water or far out of Vietnam into Thailand, they were in need of a navigator. Since I was the only one on base, I was volunteered... and happily so. About once or twice a month, they would ask me to navigate for them. One of the better spots was to Hong Kong. That meant flying east out of DaNang about a hundred miles before turning to the north at a small coral island, then past Hainan Island (owned by mainland China) and on to Hong Kong. Amazingly, though we never notified the hotel where we were planning to stay that we were inbound, the hotel manager would promptly meet us as we deplaned and carry us directly to the hotel. There, instead of the usual standing in line to register, he would invite us into his restaurant for a sandwich and cola (his treat), cash our personal checks and have us sign the registration for the hotel right at our table. He never failed to amaze us with his efficiency and hospitality. And just imagine, 10,000 miles from home and he cashes a personal check without a second thought. The other way that he amazed us was his shopping prowness. Whenever we had difficulty finding some sought after trinket, we just told the manager about it. When we returned to our room, we invariably found the item requested at the foot of our bed. Shopping in Hong Kong was really a treat. You could literally find anything you ever wanted and always at a special price. Seiko watches were very big items then, as were stereo tape recorders and Singer sewing machines. I could never figure out how an American Singer sewing machine could be bought at half price 10,000 miles from home. Maybe they were knockoffs, but they looked good. One of the first things i did on my first trip to Hong Kong was simply to relish in an "American-style" hamburger and shake. After powdered eggs and GI gravy on toast and other mess hall delicacies, it was truly wonderful! Another thing I always enjoyed was a telephone call home to my family. There were no phones I could make a commercial call from at DaNang. I tried using the MARS (Military Amateur Radio System) to patch a call into home one time, but "I love you... Over" just never did quite satisfy. Being able to again hear from loved ones voices directly and privately was a real blessing. I would have paid almost any price for that privilege, but it was only about $8.00 for three minutes in those days. There was an aeroclub at the commercial airport in Hong Kong that always intrigued me. I made a comment to Betty about it on one of my trips and she lived in fear that I would be flying small planes along the border of Mainland China and get myself shot down. (I never did try it, but it was truly tempting.) The restaurants in Hong Kong were interesting. True Chinese food was quite different from American style Chinese. One of the differences was that they often hung in the window the carcasses of ducks, rabbits, etc. that would be served inside. After a few months in Vietnam, that didn't even bother me. Next time... Bangkok! |
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