Regardless of what the 'anti-American' press and Jane Fonda (the infamous Hanoi Jane) tried to betray; the America habitancy can be proud of their military.
It seems strange that in many cases the individuals and groups that did the most criticizing of their troops are the ones that gained the most from their military.
True Glass Door Refrigerator
Without our great and loyal military, we would not have our leisure that we enjoy.
When I arrived in Vietnam on my first tour in January 1967, I was sincerely proud to be representing America and our government in every way.
I have all the time had Christian beliefs and it has never been difficult for me to appreciate my surroundings and especially habitancy in the surroundings. This was especially true in Vietnam. The Vietnamese were kind gentle people.
On this tour in Vietnam I was assigned to the Close Air sustain Section, Headquarters, 3rd Air Force. Our Army personnel received requests from Army combat units for close air support. We then worked with the Air Force as a decision was made as to what type munition and aircraft would be most effective.
In fact, I, like most American troops persons in Saigon, enjoyed a safe comfortable life in a Saigon hotel. My hotel was in the town of this big busy city.
I remember that I arrived at my office about 8 a.m. And spend most of the day in-processing and meeting the crew that I would be working with in the Tactical Air sustain Element. The office was settled on the third floor in a very large modern construction and it was air-conditioned.
The Army and Air Force teams were understaffed and I was welcomed with open arms. Office personnel worked nearby the clock seven days a week. The twelve-hour day shift ended at 7 p.m. By the time the night shift was briefed it is near 8 p.m.
Soon after the evening briefing was complete, my five new friends and I loaded into an eight passenger bus and began a most bright ride through busy Saigon. One has never seen busy, crowded, and noisy streets until Saigon is observed. At least I had never seen whatever like it.
An hour later we arrived at the Plaza Hotel, which was an eight-story concrete building. It housed at least 200 Americans. The front entry was near the busy street and was guarded by a four man Vietnamese troops guard force which was protected by an effective concrete wall.
When I entered the hotel I had an immediate feeling that I was going to like the accommodations; even before looking my room. Several large fans were noticeably bright the hot air.
We passed by a reception desk which was staffed with a Vietnamese man and woman. Both were very friendly. My friends related that all of the staff was friendly and helpful.
One of my friends remarked, "Guess what, the elevator is working today." He explained that it was not unusual for them to walk to their rooms on the fifth floor. The two-man rooms were nice and also had a large fan. We were hungry and it was agreed that we would meet in the hotel restaurant, on the third floor, in fifteen minutes. We did and I was legitimately impressed.
Miss Than, a very nice Chinese woman, checked our meal cards as we entered. I was told that her father owns a large import/export company in Saigon. (At least some habitancy are not being adversely affected by the War).
She spoke gorgeous English. There was a nice option of American and Vietnamese food. I definitely fell in love with Vietnamese food that evening and I seldom eat American food while the next twelve months.
About 10 p.m. I returned to my room. My roommate was not there, so I stripped, showered, and was soon lying on my American style bed resting and mentally reliving my first day in Vietnam.
I was wild-awake nearby 11 p.m, so I dressed and decided to look for a place to get a beer. The bistro was closed, so I went to the reception desk. The lady was now alone. When I asked if there is a near-by place to buy a beer I was surprised that she too spoke lovely English.
She explained that she had a few warm Cokes and beers under her counter and that I was legitimately welcome to have my choice. I select a Bud. I offered to buy her a beer. She explained that she preferred Cokes and would accept my offer for a Coke.
We talked for about an hour. She explained that she worked on an American base for a year and tried hard to learn thorough English. She had worked here in the hotel for a year and enjoyed it very much.
She also explained that her wage was more than she would make in a Vietnamese job. She added explained that she ordinarily worked the night shift and that she had a very small comfortable room thirty minutes from the hotel.
She referred to me as "Mr. Jim", because it was easier than saying, "Mr. Gene".
"Do you know what I miss most from the air base?" She asked.
"What?" I asked.
"I miss those big tasty red apples." She replied. After that I tried to bring her an apple or two each day.
The next morning I was waiting by the lobby exit at 6 a.m., as planned. Our minuscule bus arrived right on schedule and the eight of us squeezed on board. The traffic was as busy and hectic as it had been the evening before.
I'm told that the hotel was owned by a wealthy Chinese man and that he insisted that his staff, especially the women, not socialize with Americans; other than being friendly and helpful while on duty.
Mr. Chung, also Chinese, was the driver assigned to our section. Our section chief, Col. Green was a full-Colonel and Mr. Chung was his hidden driver. Col. Green enjoyed a hidden trailer as his quarters on base and roughly never left the base for any reason,; therefore his enlisted staff had roughly 100% use of the minuscule bus.
Mr. Chung went out of his way to help all of us in any way he could. In return we all tried to do things for him, like insuring that he had Cokes and apples to carry home with him each day. The 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch your back" philosophy legitimately worked.
The second day a sergeant came by the office collecting money for one of the office cleaning ladies. Her child was desperately ill and she had no money to pay for the medicine and doctor. As usual a fair number of money was collected.
Our office sponsored a Vietnamese child's home. Besides taking presents on Christmas and hosting an American style Christmas, we also collected extra money when there was a extra need. In Vietnam in 1967 there was all the time a extra need of one kind or an additional one and Americans all the time poured out good will with money and concern.
Our office was only one of many offices that sponsored and supported needy Vietnamese in many ways. In April we were asked to donate quite a lot of money to buy 200 small radios from the Base Exchange.
Colonel Green wanted to make a visit to a Vietnamese troops hospital on the outskirts of Saigon and he wanted to assure that at least 200 patients had a tiny radio gift.
We drew cards to resolve which seven of us would accompany him to the hospital. I was lucky and make this very extra trip.
It was a shock to see the deteriorated condition of the hospital construction and the incredible crowded conditions. As we drove into the hospital parking lot I saw beds and patients on every balcony. In the hospital, beds and chairs with patients busy every available free space in the halls and rooms. The bedding was old, stained, and worn; but very clean.
The hospital was understaffed, but the doctors and nurses were doing a distinguished job. They all appeared very over-worked, tired, and near-exhausted. The saddest sight of all were the patients. I guess that at least 80% were amputees; mostly lower extremity amputees.
When we met with the doctors and nurses, Col. Green presented the radio gifts. He decided to give each physician and nurse a radio also.
I asked why so many patients had feet or legs amputated. The chief physician quietly explained that the most tasteless injury was from mass mines, a small anti-personnel mine, designed to injury the feet and legs.
These minuscule mines were scattered like corn seeds in a field by the enemy soldiers. These heartless communist enemy cared less if the mines hurt or killed children and civilians.
The physician explained that by the time the injured arrived at the hospital many or most already had an infection. He explained that the hospital did not have enough permissible antibiotics to stop the infections; thus it was very tasteless for gangrene to set-in.
He added explained that few Vietnamese doctors had the training, as most Americans had, to stop gangrene or to do the permissible amputation. He explained that it was foremost to exertion to save the knee, since with a workable knee an synthetic leg was most effective.
Therefore, they most often did not take a opening and let the gangrene spread to the knee; they amputated more fast than most American doctors would. This trip was a real wake-up touch for me.
A few days later Mr. Chung industrialized pneumonia and was hospitalized. Col. Green assured Mr. Chung that he would not be replaced. We all donated money for his bills and gave him gifts for his family. He later paid all of us back many times with fond gestures.
It became an enjoyable disposition to stand at the reception desk and chat with the Vietnamese night staff, which was ordinarily only Miss Kim. Several weeks later I made my normal gallivant to the reception desk, but Miss Kim was not there. Instead, an older Vietnamese lady was on duty.
I asked about Miss Kim and the lady stated that Miss Kim became very sick and was rushed to the physician and was operated on very early this morning. I related that I wanted very much to visit Miss Kim.
The lady smiled and asked if I was Mr. Jim. She explained that she saw Miss Kim just before the surgery and that she explained that Mr. Jim might want to come see her. She asked me to give you the address if you do want to visit her. You should take a taxi...and remember that she loves apples.
I asked if Miss Kim would be back to work soon and the lady replied that Miss Kim was extremely sick. After I got Miss Kim's address from the lady I rushed to my room, put two applies in my pockets and fast left the hotel and hailed a taxi.
The driver was soon at the address and pointed to the side door. As I coming the house I saw a very old lady sitting in a chair by the building. I showed her the note and address and the lady held my arm and guided me to Miss Kim's door and opened it.
I legitimately did not expect to find the terrible site I saw. The room was small, no fan, and minuscule furniture. I saw a female lying in a smaller than particular bed and she was asleep.
On a chair, which was near the bed, was medication and a glass that had flies crawling on it. I quietly took the glass to the tiny sink to washed it. The water barely ran from the pipe and it did not look clean. There was no dish towel, so I used my T-shirt.
When I returned to the bed, Miss Kim was moaning. I whispered, to avoid shocking her, "Miss Kim, is there whatever I can get you or do for you?"
She tried to smile, but her big smile was not there. "Thanks for coming. It is so nice of you. Yes, will you hold the medicine directions so I can read the note" She asked.
I held the small paper close to her face. She asked, "How many of the big pills are in the envelope." I replied that there were ten. She whispered that she had missed taking her tablets. She asked what time it was. I told her it was 8 p.m. "I've missed two tablets...I think. Will you get me some water and one big tablet and two smaller ones?" She asked.
I watched the dirty-looking liquid ultimately half fill the glass. "Will you try to lift me so I can drink?" She asked. When I slipped my hand under her neck and shoulder and attempted to lift her she screamed. I apologized and she explained that they had operated on her stomach and the pain was awful. I ultimately managed to get her lifted enough to swallow the pills.
I settled her medication near her pillow and sat close to her bed. She was wet with perspiration, so I took an old cloth, ultimately soaked it with water, and moderately wiped her face and neck. She whispered, "Mr. Jim, will you take one large pill and two smaller ones and put them on the chair before you leave? I can't afford to miss any more pills." She said as she tried to smile.
Miss Kim's older friend sitting covering the room spoke no English and I did not feel she would sit up all night with Miss Kim to assure she took her medication. I whispered to Miss Kim that she would be all right, but I was not legitimately so sure myself. I gave her a tender kiss on the head and left. I had already decided that I would return at 1 a.m. To assure she took her pills.
I returned to the hotel and began to look for a few items to take to Miss Kim. My roommate had a large plastic water can in the bath room. I filled this can with 'clean' water and found a sack in which to place a few rags and a towel, liquid soap (from my room mate's shelf), an extra toothbrush, and paste from my case.
I returned to the desk and asked the lady to please assure that I was awake at 12:30 a.m. She did and I was back to see Miss Kim at 1 a.m. Sure enough she was asleep and had missed the medication time.
She was shocked that I had returned to care for her. She was still very sick. I used the fresh water to wash the glass and then to moderately wipe her face, neck, and arms. She tried to smile, but it still didn't quite happen. She managed to take the medication and then she dozed off again. I left feeling very sad and concerned for her.
I was due on shift 7 a.m., but I wanted to check on Miss Kim. I left a note on my friend's door saying I was already at work. At 6 a.m. I then took a taxi and again went to Miss Kim to assure she had her medication.
She was awake and this time totally shocked that I had again returned to see her. "Why do you do this for me.?" She asked. "No one has ever done this much for me. Tell me why, Mr. Jim!"
"I'll tell you why. You have a cute-nose." I then bent over and kissed her minuscule nose. This time she did carry on a smile. I soon left, but many things were going through my mind. I was still worried about Miss Kim. I was also mental about my house and hoping someone would help them if a similar situation arose.
When I got to work I explained the situation to a friend on the night shift. He asked if Miss Kim had a frig in her room. I say no. He stated that was normal...few habitancy here have refrigerators. "Gene, there is a small frig in the storeroom. It belonged to a sergeant that left for the States. You can have it." He said.
Later in the morning I was explaining in more detail what had transpired. My best friend offered to cover for me while I did some shopping at the Exchange. I bought disposable plates, cups, napkins, utensils, a concentrate of pots, some soft foods, disinfectant spray, and bug spray.
When I returned to the office, Jeff, my best friend, offered to accompany Mr. Chung and me and help with the refrigerator. By 8 p.m. We had the frig in the van and were on the way to see Miss Kim.
When we arrived Miss Kim had managed to turn over a bid and I notice that she now had fresh trousers and shirt. She explained that the old lady washed her down and helped her convert clothes. She recognized Jeff and remembered his name. When she saw the frig she began to cry.
Mr. Chung was happy to help us, but refused to come into Miss Kim's room.
The next qoute was hooking up the frig. The plug did not fit the wall outlet. Mr. Chung again came to the saving and soon returned with a young electrician, who had the frig operating in five minutes.
Miss Kim was obviously feeling some better, but not much better. She promised not to miss any more pills and made me promise not to come back until after work the next day.
When I did return after work the next day I was legitimately shocked. Miss Kim was propped up slightly and had a big smile. The room looked like Mr. Clean had made a surprise visit. I asked how the room got cleaned.
She smiled and explained that she made a deal with the lady next door. The lady could share the frig if she kept the room clean and helped until she got well. "You see, Mr. Jim, I'm a real company girl...especially when I have a frig to negotiate with." She joked.
"Miss Kim," I asked "Will you elaborate what all happened. What was your problem?"
"I had a minuscule stomach ache for two days, but it was not bad, so I didn't get worried. About 1 a.m. I began having terrible pains and I called my work mate and asked him to come fast and ease me. I took a taxi to an old house physician friend.
I could not get out of the taxi and the driver got the physician to come to the taxi and see me. He immediately diagnosed the qoute as a ruptured appendix and said it would take too long to get to the hospital and that the hospital likely did not have a night physician on duty...and likely did not have an empty bed "etc".
They carried me to his apartment, where he had a tiny clinic and a small operating room, but no outpatient beds. After a quick exam he and his wife began preparing me for an operation. They fast put me to sleep and I'm not sure what time they operated, but I stayed at his house until late afternoon.
The physician said it was great that I recover in my room than in the hospital, because he could more legitimately check on me and that I would be safer than in a hospital. I was all right until the ambulance came to move me. I opinion I was going to die. The slightest move made my stomach hurt so badly that I opinion the stitches were tearing out.
"Mr. Jim, the physician could not believe what you have done for me. He asked me to pass his thanks to you also."
Miss Kim was back to work in two weeks. I think I noticed that all of the staff was a bit friendlier after Miss Kim returned. I continued to spend time at the desk talking with Miss Kim until the day I departed Vietnam.
I naturally thank my God for giving me a safe return home to my family. I am also thankful that He guided me, as He guided so many others, to do a few good things for a few habitancy in Vietnam.
'Professional' American press reporters could have amplified the many good things that the American troops did and ended in Vietnam. Unfortunately, too many of the American press reporters 'were not professional'.
They too often blew isolated incidents out of proportion. Similar to the Jane Fonda type demonstrators and others who condemned the Vietnamese war; they successfully brain-washed the American communal into believing that the majority of their troops in Vietnam were village-burning, women-raping, savages, and shot-gun barrel-sniffing drug abusers. The American press often acted unprofessional.
Almost all troops personnel in Vietnam were good Americans.
(c)Gene Hudgens
Most military Persons Tried to Be Good Americans in Vietnam
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