Page 106 - People & Places In Time

as old acquaintances, but he’s not a friend any longer. Nothing happened of his defection, he was forgiven and allowed to return home. One more piece out of place, in the complicated puzzle before us in a conflicted and divided society.
I mention this incident because of some other old friends I grew up with; some, like Chip, I had gone through school with, growing up together in Exeter. These friends went to Vietnam as well and I can see them when in Exeter. Its just that all I see is their names engraved on the memorial to those who didn’t come home alive. These men remain close friends always; friends I think of all the time.
Vietnam memorial in Exeter
Now It Begins ~ Vietnam
My first sight of Vietnam was very early one morning, just before dawn. We were outside the harbor of Saigon. There I was presented one of the most beauti- ful, almost surreal, sights of my life. The ocean, along
the coastline was blanketed in a light fog, clinging only feet above the surface, with the hint of dawn breaking
to the east. At first, I could not be sure of what I was viewing, and then as the Suns first light pierced the mist, I could make out dozens of small fishing boats. Sampans painted brightly, pointed and upturned at each end
with a single mast supporting a triangular sail, with one or two men in straw, pointed hats, aboard. As the light streams through the fog it highlights the sails, presenting such a beautiful, peaceful contrast to our hulking, navy ship piercing this serene setting. Quickly it was over, the sampans had moved on about their business and we passed into the chaos of Saigon harbor and the reality of the Vietnam War.
We were only a couple of days in Saigon to deliver our cargo and pick-up some Marines. Leaving Saigon, we sailed north along the coast toward the Cua Viet River and the town of Dong Ha, about ten miles south of the DMZ.
The two Phantom jets had been delivered earlier during a stop in Guam. As a gunners mate, un- less it was something related to the guns I had little responsibility when docked. By this time, I had made new friends aboard ship. Mike Stilson had grown up in the San Fernando Valley and became my closest friend throughout our remaining time in the Navy. With time to explore the island we found our way to a sheltered cove where there was not a soul around. This place
isn’t like Hawaii, there’s a different feel. The white sand and clear turquoise water surrounded by a deep green forest of Palms, struck me as the reason people are so enamored of the South Pacific. The temperature was in the eighties as we dove into the water that felt the same. We watched as a thundercloud moved across the water toward us quickly, soon it was raining very hard but the rain was the same temperature as the air and ocean, a really unusual experience I’ve not had since. The storm was brief and as the sun shown again on the sea and trees it was like a travel poster.
But this was a quick stop with a lot more ahead of us. Standing in the warm water in an idyllic setting we were constantly aware of why we were there. Every twenty minutes or so a B-52 taking off from the Ander- son Air Force Base on Guam would fly over us at what seemed only a few hundred feet above our head . . . on the way to Vietnam on a bombing run.
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