FOREVER YOUNG NUMBER 19 of a SERIES “OUT OF THE CLOUDS”* PART 2 __________________________ Duane Keil arrived at the airport in Oakland, California, on 23 October 1968. As he walked into the terminal, he was met by a sergeant who directed him into a holding area where several others were waiting. When the sergeant had gathered a dozen more, the group was moved into a crowded auditorium, where the soldiers were issued preliminary orders for their new units in Vietnam. A few of the men in the room did not know where they were being assigned, but many already had division patches displayed on their uniforms. The vast majority of them, including Keil, were on their way to the 173rd Airborne Brigade and proudly sported the winged “Sky Soldier” patch on their sleeves. A senior NCO who was in charge of the orientation looked over the close-cropped group of new troops and remarked, We can always tell whos taking it on the chin in Nam by whose patch we see the most. The new 173rd troopers all laughed, nervously, but Keil wasn’t sure how funny the remark was. Most of the new paratroopers appeared to be barely eighteen, which automatically made Keil feel like the old man (at twenty). Several looked like they had never used a razor. Keil smiled to himself and shook his head. After getting their orders and a short briefing, the men were moved into the main terminal. Duane hoped they were going to board their plane, but it was the same old hurry-up and wait.” Most of the men settled in to nap, smoke, read, and BS – the usual ways to cope with downtime in the military. The soldiers were eventually herded onto their plane, a civilian Boeing 707, and were off on their way to Hawaii. There were five stewardesses on board and the raucous load of young GIs was loud and boisterous. They teased the attendants continuously; however the women were more than capable of taking care of themselves. Landing in Honolulu, the plane parked some distance from the terminal. It was refueled, resupplied, and a new crew came aboard. The soldiers were allowed to get off the plane, stretch their legs and enjoy the warm, balmy air, but they could not go near the terminal. Departing Hawaii, the aircraft headed for its next stop on the island of Guam. Arriving in Guam some eight hours later, the men were permitted to leave the plane and to into the terminal for breakfast. They were stiff, sore, and tired from the long trip. With his long legs bent sideways for most of the trip, Keil could barely walk as he struggled to make his way along the aisle of the plane and down the metal steps. The weather was overcast with light drizzle and a cold wind blowing across the tarmac. Most of the soldiers went inside, and the crew joined them while their aircraft was serviced. After their break, the men reboarded for the last and longest leg of their journey. The plane departed over the deep blue waters off Guam, and was soon flying in sunshine above the thick layer of clouds. Most of them read or slept during the long day, and Keil watched the sun finally disappear into the endless sea of clouds below them in a blood-red display. As the men neared their final destination, the once-rowdy group of soldiers became increasingly quiet and introspective. They would be landing at the huge U.S. base at Cam Ranh Bay. It was located in an area that was considered safe, but Keil had the impression many of the youngsters surrounding him felt they would be in immediate danger when they disembarked the plane. And most of them had the same thought on their mind: “How many would make the trip home alive, a year from now?” The seatbelt lights came on and the pilot announced passengers should fasten their belts and prepare for landing. Duane shivered slightly as a cold chill went down his spine; he had a tightness in his chest and his palms were sweating as he stared intently out the window. It had gotten dark, but there was a full moon and brilliant stars gleamed in the deep blue sky above them. The plane began to descend through the thick clouds, shuddering and jerking as the young soldiers held onto the arms of their seats, and then the pilot extinguished all the internal lights on the plane. The interior of the plane was pitch-black. “This is it,” Keil thought. “The war zone – we are here.” The darkness seemed to increase the noise and vibration of the aircraft as it descended through the turbulent air. The fuselage shuddered violently, rattling the trays and coffee pots in a nearby galley. Duane screwed his eyes shut and pressed himself into the back of his seat. Would they ever get on the ground? Opening his eyes slightly, he peeked out the window and saw runway lights below them through the rain-streaked plexiglass. “Well, so far, so good,” Keil said to himself. “We haven’t been shot down, yet.” As the aircraft touched down with a hop and a bump, there was an audible sigh of relief. It was as if all the soldiers onboard had been holding their collective breath and had begun to breathe again at the same time. The plane taxied to the terminal building and the door was opened. The men stood quietly and began to file off. When Keil got to the door, he was hit by a wave of humidity and a fetid breeze that reeked of jet fuel, mildew, and stale piss. “Wow,” he thought, putting his hand to his nose and mouth. “I could have gone all day without that.” The soldiers were moved into the terminal building, formed up for a roll call, and then moved outside to buses that carried them to the 22nd Replacement Battalion, a few miles away. That is where they would be inprocessed over the next few days. The men collected their duffle bags, handed their personnel records to a clerk, and then stood in line to draw two sheets, a pillowcase, and a blanket from the supply room. They were then marched to a one-story wood and screen-wire barracks with a tin roof. It was about 20 feet wide and 100 feet long, with a concrete floor, and was lined with metal bunk beds. It was nearly midnight, local time. Keil had no idea what time it was in Michigan. “Get some rest,” the NCO said. “Lights out in five minutes – Reveille at 0600.” Keil made up his bunk, undressed quickly and crawled in bed. He would shower in the morning. Right now, he was too exhausted to do anything but sleep. The sheet and pillow case felt damp from the humid air, but he did not care. It was wonderful to be able to stretch out his sore legs. As he buried his face in his pillow, he could hear the sound of the pre-monsoon rain beating against the metal roof above. “I wonder if these camps are ever attacked,” he thought as he began to drift off. “Welcome to Vietnam, Duane,” he said to himself, softly. “Welcome to hell.” _______________________________ TO BE CONTINUED… Copyright © 2014 Gary B. Blackburn
Posted on: Wed, 14 Jan 2015 21:03:28 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015