Spending a year in Tuy Hoa, South Vietnam, was the great adventure and learning experience of my life. It was hot beyond belief. The monsoon rain was harder than any rain I have ever seen and it went on for days. The rain would need to be experienced to comprehend its power.
I saw a woman with a big blonde, blue eyed baby on her shoulders that looked as if it would be bigger than its Mother in a week or two.
To my surprise, I took showers with fully clothed mama sans.
I ran into a guy from my High School 14000 miles from home, in a war.
Mama sans cooked squid on the protective revetment around my hooch. By noon it had cooked in the sun. After eating the squid, the mama san took the oil from the squid and ran it thru her hair which made it shine – and smell.
The water treatment facility rarely worked and we had turds floating in the South China Sea with us as we swam.
I learned management there. When under attack, most of the mechanics in the jet shop would report to the perimeter. Of those not chosen to fight – I was a terrible shot – I was chosen due to time in service to lead a crew of mechanics to get engines fixed for awaiting fighter bombers. It was stressful but I learned how to get the guys going. One night while walking to the shop, the VC spotted me and began lobbing mortars at me. Combining my surprising speed at running with their inaccurate targeting and mostly God’s help, I can write this note. April 8, 1970 should have been my last day on earth.
The most wonderful thing I learned was perspective on what is serious or important. Not having a gun to shoot back at an armed enemy is serious. Losing a job is no big deal.
I have written a movie script of my adventures which has caused the problem of the true events being so unbelievable that they can’t be believed. Let me know if anyone reading this wants to make a great movie.