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Now, about the jeep. I was stationed in Dalat-Camly, about 90
kilometers west of Cam Ranh Bay, and we were bivouacked in an old
French three story walk-up hotel in downtown Dalat, some 13k from
the airfield where we worked. We had two guys to a room, running
water and a bathroom in each room, not to mention maid service. The
bar was just down the hall on the third floor and the "ladies" came
from a hotel just down the block. It was a tough life but someone
had to live it ;-) (These were my BC years).
The hotel was an "L" shaped building which sat atop a small bluff,
overlooking a lake. Nestled in the crook of the L was a movie
theatre whose roof reached to the second floor of the hotel. Our
rooms had doors on both ends, each opening to a long continuous
balcony/hallway. This balcony was edged by a waist high cement and
stucco wall which served as a railing and also afforded us a measure
of protection. The balcony along the inner part of the L led to the
hotel's staircase. It also overlooked the movie theatre
beyond which was the home of Dalat's ex-police commissioner who,
though he was retired, was still active against the VC.
One night around 3am there was an explosion so loud that despite my
bed being at the far end of the room with a row of wall lockers in
between our beds, that it rocked me out of my bed, stucco railing
notwithstanding. Turns out the VC didn't like this police
commissioner's activities and sent a fellow around to plant a
satchel charge under his house. He also planted one in one of our
jeeps with a 15min delay timer. It was this jeep I was standing
next to when I heard the voice for the first time, warning me to get
away from the jeep and seek cover behind the truck.
The commissioner, his wife and their two(?) children were killed in
the blast. The Vietnamese fire department had shown up before the
jeep's charge went off and one of the fire fighters took a piece of
shrapnel in his side. The Army's standard issue bandage would not
have covered the hole even if I had thought to bring one. We got
him in the back of the supply sergeant's 3/4 ton pick-up, (once we
got the sarge sobered up enough to convince him to give us his key)
and brought him to the local hospital since the nearest military
hospital was in Cam Ranh, I think. I don't know if he made it.
Time for some sleep, bro,
God Bless You,
Henry Wolf
yokebreaker@verizon.net
4 Aug 2007 |
To
the front door of the Yellow Airplane Museum
