GUARDIANS OF FREEDOM
Saluting Those Who Served in the U.S. Army
Bill Holdwick in Vietnam, Part 5
by Janis Stein

Join me in the continuation as Bill Holdwick recalls his early days in Vietnam: digging latrines, witnessing a helicopter crash and the greatly anticipated mail call - all in a day of the life of a soldier.

It would take a week before all their necessary equipment arrived, but eventually everything was coordinated and the troops convoyed to the location where they would be setting up a more permanent camp. Bill and his comrades had no idea how far they had traveled, but the troops ended up about 60 miles north of Saigon.

The soldiers set up camp near the little town of Phoc Vinh and immediately went to work. A permanent latrine had to be dug, and a shower had to be constructed. Soldiers put away their pup tents for the time being and set up sleeping quarters, tents big enough to accommodate 25 men. Barbed wire called constantine wire encased the compound, and it was razor sharp; filling sand bags was a daily chore, and soldiers sometimes piled the barrier four-feet high. Since Bill was now in a combat zone, anyone surveying would be a sitting duck, so for Bill it was back to KP and guard duty.

The soldiers were allowed to travel the quarter mile into Phok Vinh where there was a small shopping area. South Vietnamese women and children were always present, but rarely were there any Vietnamese men in the area. Soldiers went to Phok Vinh in the daylight hours only; towards evening, the soldiers sought the safety of their base. Racial profiling was alive and well; since U.S. soldiers couldn't tell the difference between the North Vietnamese and the South Vietnamese, they trusted no one.

Mail call was a highly anticipated event, and Bill received mail about three times a week. Since the soldiers were unable to receive mail on the boat on their trip over, letters really piled up for some of the men. Bill had 56 letters waiting for him when he arrived in Vietnam, and he was happy to read every single one of them.

In mid-December, Bill and another soldier, along with a sergeant, followed orders to go to Saigon to survey for a commercial road the engineers were planning to build on the outside edge of Saigon. For two weeks, the survey crew did what was necessary to make the proper calculations. Though Bill could have accomplished the mission in just a week had he been working by himself, the Army moved at a slightly different pace, and it was best to go with the flow.

It was next to impossible not to think of home, especially during the month of December. Bill imagined his mother making all the traditional holiday preparations, and though he wished he could be in her kitchen, he accepted the fact he couldn't. The temperatures in Vietnam were extremely hot, and Bill found himself longing for a good old-fashioned Michigan winter. Instead, he celebrated Christmas in 1965 in a tent in Saigon. While he sat in the mess tent and looked at the few cheap plastic Christmas decorations, he managed to find a way to count his blessings. First and foremost, he was still alive, and he was eating a turkey dinner with all the trimmings, courtesy of the United States Army.

While Bill was busying surveying, he witnessed a U.S. helicopter preparing to land. Bill was about 150 yards away when he realized something was wrong. Experiencing technical difficulties, the chopper was about 100 feet in the air when it began to fall. The helicopter crashed to the ground, parts of it flying in all directions. Four soldiers were on board, and while only two of the crew were injured, fortunately everyone survived.

When the surveying for the road was completed, Bill's crew met up with a dozen trucks that had come in to Saigon to load up a variety of supplies including food, pop and beer. After the supplies were loaded, Bill and his two comrades convoyed with them back through the jungle 60 miles to Phoc Vinh. Traveling through the jungle was a bit unsettling, and Bill could almost sense the North Vietnamese lurking just out of sight. With a mile left to travel, Bill's truck blew a tire. The only choice they had was to stop on the road and change the tire. Two or three men stood guard and while the soldiers worked fast, Bill's heart was pounding faster. The feeling that the enemy would be coming after them was unmistakable, and they were completely exposed. Their paranoia proved to be just that, and equipped with a new tire, the truck and its soldiers made it safely back to the U.S. camp at Phoc Vinh.

Back at Phoc Vinh, it was more KP and guard duty for Bill. On occasion, the soldiers were served their meal by their superiors - anything to raise morale. Since there was no refrigeration, the food left a bit to be desired. Large cans of SPAM were plentiful, though, and soldiers could fill up with a big slab if they so desired. The worst thing of all was the dehydrated pork chops. Never did Bill chew something so tough!

Drinks consisting of cans of pop and beer were rationed among the soldiers. The men could purchase one can of pop and one can of beer a day, each costing ten cents. Bill always traded his beer for a second pop though not because he didn't enjoy a little alcohol. Rather he doctored his pop, whether it was orange or black cherry in flavor, with a little whiskey. For just $1.80 he had gotten his hands on a full quart of Canadian Club whiskey, and he guarded it with the same degree of intensity as he guarded the post!

Bill's compound was located along two roads that intersected, and though the gate was closed at night, the soldiers kept watch. While one soldier caught a little shut-eye lying atop some old and wet sand bags, the other had his rifle filled with live ammunition, ever ready.

Soldiers in Bill's unit, like their families back home, had mixed feelings about the war, though they knew their job was to serve and not question. Some soldiers were ready to kill anybody and anything, while others had a milder attitude; they would do their duty, and if at the end they found themselves still alive, they would eagerly go back and try to fit into the world they left behind.

When Bill started Basic Training he earned $68 per month, but now that he was in Vietnam, his combat pay totaled $264 monthly. A week after he arrived in Vietnam his rank went from PFC (Private First Class) to Specialist 4th Class (Spec-4). During the mid-1960s, joining the United States Army voluntarily was a three-year commitment, but for those who were drafted, the term was two years, though in times of war, the rules didn't necessarily apply.

Be sure to look for the continuation next month as Bill Holdwick shares his memories of Saigon.

© 2006 Janis Stein