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R & R

 

Once we got back to Di An, it was my turn to sign up for R & R (rest and recuperation). I had been in Country for a little over 9 months. I had talked to the other guys in my platoon and they had suggested Bangkok, Thailand. Once I got to Headquarters to sign up, a soldier came out of the office and said, "If your name is DeMusey you are next." I said, "that's me!"  I asked him if he was in 2nd Platoon.  I think he got to Vietnam the same time I did, and we checked in together. He said yes, he was and his name was Martinez. He then asked me where I was taking my R & R.  I told him I was thinking about Bangkok. He told me that he was going to Hawaii because he was from California. I told him that I was from California too, but I was not married and only married people went to Hawaii. He said, I am not married either, I am going to hop a flight out of Hawaii and go home to California and if I wanted, I could tag along with him and fly to California with him. I said, "won’t we be going AWOL if we did?" He said, "I got that covered, I know how to do it and not get caught!"  I thought, wouldn't it be nice to see the family again. I said, "okay, I will sign up for Hawaii too!"  I went inside and signed up for R & R in Hawaii.

 

In a few days we flew out of Cam Ranh Bay headed for Hawaii. I sat next to Martinez on the flight. We arrived in Honolulu, Hawaii and we were bused to an Information Center for the Military where we were given a twenty minute speech on how we could not leave the Hawaiian Islands, and if we did, we would be considered AWOL.  As soon as the speech was over, Martinez and I grabbed our bags and went outside where Martinez flagged down a taxi. With both got in and Martinez told the cab driver to take us to the Airport. The driver knew exactly what we were up to. It was only obvious that we were GI's. I let Martinez do all of the talking since he told me he knew what to do. He worked out a plan with the driver for us to each give him air fare for a ticket to Los Angeles and to wait in the cab while he would go inside the Airport and purchase two 1 way tickets. Soon the driver returned and said here is your tickets.  All we had to do is go inside right now, go straight to the terminal and board the plane because it was going to take off in 10 minutes. Martinez asked me if I had $10.00 because he wanted to give the driver $20.00 for doing us the favor. After giving the drive the $20.00 we exited the cab and did as he told us. We hurried to the terminal, handed the person our tickets and we were allowed to board the plane. I was nervous because this was all going too smoothly. In less than 10 minutes we were in flight to Los Angeles. Once we landed in LA, Martinez told me good bye and disappeared into the crowd. I made my way over to a telephone booth and placed a call to my sister Donna, in Jackson. Once she answered I said, "Donna, don’t ask me any questions, just go to Sacramento to the Airport and pick me up in about an hour. I will tell you all about it when I see you." I then hung up the telephone and made my way over to the ticket counter and purchased a ticket to Sacramento.

 

Once I arrived in Sacramento I was greeted by my sister, Donna.  We hugged and kissed and I told her that we needed to get out of there.  We jumped in her car and we were headed to Jackson. I told her what I had did and that in 6 days from now could she bring me back to Sacramento Airport where I could fly back to Hawaii and then go back to Vietnam.  She said sure. Once we got to Jackson she took me to our Mother’s house. She told me that Momma would be home from work in about a half hour and that I should hide in her closet and when she opened the closet I could jump out and surprise her. I did just that. Momma opened the closet door, where I was hiding, and I jumped out and said, "hi Momma!" I thought my Mom was going to die. She started to cry and said, "are you home for good?"  I told her no, that I was AWOL from Hawaii.  I said, since I was so close to California, I just had to come home and see everyone. She was a little mad at me, but having me home for even a little while it was worth taking the chance.


I had completely forgotten, but while I was home, the Amador County Fair was going on. I figured that if any of my friends were in the County, they would go to the Fair on Saturday night. On Saturday night I went to the Fair where I saw a bunch of my friends. Chris Martin, Dave Grijalva, Ernie Peters, Roger Campbell, to name a few. We drank beer even though we weren’t of age, and everyone asked me how many gooks had I killed. I wasn’t comfortable talking about Vietnam and what I had been going through, so I said, I didn’t know, so let’s party while I am home. I had my Mother’s camera with me and I had several pictures taken with my friends. While I was home, I got to see my two other sisters and my brother-in-law, Tom. Before I knew it, my 6 days were up. My sister Donna took me to the Sacramento Airport where I bought my ticket back to Hawaii. I said good bye, and told my sister that I would be home for good in a few months and that if she wasn’t doing anything then, she could pick me up at the San Francisco Airport. We hugged and I boarded the plane.


 

Once I arrived in Hawaii, I had 1 day to myself before I had to report in to be flown back to Vietnam. Every where I went, I was looking for Martinez. I didn’t see him, but I thought that tomorrow for sure I would see him when we boarded the plane to go back to Vietnam. The next morning came, and after breakfast, I had to report to the Information Center. I was a little early but that gave me a chance to find Martinez. Most of the GI’s were reporting to the Information Center with their wives. They would check in and then tell their wives goodbye. It was an emotional moment for both of them. Tears would be coming down the wife’s and GI’s eyes. As the time got closer for the group to leave on the bus for our flight back to Viet Nam, I didn't see Martinez. A lady with a clip board, standing at the door of the bus, asked your name and Service Number as you boarded. She would check your name off as you entered the bus. I was one of the last ones to enter the bus and did not see Martinez. Could he have decided to not come back? Once I arrived back in Vietnam and rejoined my platoon, I checked with Headquarters and asked if Martinez was back from R & R, and was told that he was AWOL.

 

As soon as I settled in to my hooch, all of my friends asked how I like Bangkok. I told them I didn’t know how Bangkok was, but the Amador County Fair was great! They all told me that I was full of shit and that I was making it up. I told them that in a week or two I would have pictures to prove that I went home for R & R. No one believed me until I showed them my pictures.

R & R
Bye, Bye Radio

Bye, Bye Radio

It didn’t take long before I was back in the groove again. We were going out regularly and I started to feel the short timer pains. I had 2 months to go and I was still carrying the radio for Lieutenant Kudla. Every time we would go out, I would ask Kudla if he had been giving it any thought as to who was going to carry the radio for him once I left. He said, "I don’t need anyone but you to carry my radio." I told him he had better give it a serious consideration because the radio was starting to kick my ass.  I was a Sergeant, I wanted to be a squad leader before I left for home.  Kudla never took what I said serious.


While we were back at Long Bien, the fire siren went off. We all grabbed our gear and ran up to the helipad and got on the waiting helicopters. I found out that there was a sighting of VC setting up booby traps in and around these rice patties and we were to go and find the VC. We flew for a half hour or so and we were descending down into a rice patty where we were let off. We quickly got into formation and started down the dike between two rice patties. Soon the dike disappeared and we were walking through the patties. It was wet and the patties were full of water. To me, because I am short, the muck was up to my waist. It was more difficult for me to be walking in the muck than most of our guys, plus I had the weight of the radio and all of my gear to weight me down even more.


We walked and walked and walked. No sight of VC, just more rice patties. We had been at it for nearly two hours. At times, the patties were so deep that I had to lean forward onto my belly, so that my feet could come to the surface.  I crawled for a while before my weight would make my legs sink back down into the muck. I told Kudla that the radio was kicking my ass and could he get someone to carry it for me. He told me to suck it up and do my job. The farther we went, the more the radio was kicking my butt. I was dog tired. It was humid and hot. The only good part of being in the rice patties was it was cool. My forehead was wet from perspiration and the sweat was running in my eyes, making my eyes burn. Just when I thought I could go no farther, we had reached a dike that was out of the water. Everyone was climbing out of the rice patty and now standing on the dike. Kudla wanted us to walk the dike and get out of the rice patties and into the jungle that was parallel to us. I asked Kudla if he knew who was going to be his new Radio Man. Kudla again told me to just do my job. This is not what I wanted to hear. We had come upon a canal filled with water that we had to cross to get into the jungle and out of the rice patties. As we waited for the man in front of us to cross the canal, I again asked Kudla who did he want to carry the radio for him? He looked at me and again said, do your job! I told him that he had better make up his mind before I crossed the canal, because if not, the radio would go into the water. I told him that I was through and I was not going to carry the radio for him or anyone any longer. Kudla entered the canal and was helped out on the other side. It was my turn and into the water I went.

Someone took my picture in the water. Once I was out of the water, I told Kudla, "This is your last chance. Who is carrying this radio?" Kudla looked at me and didn’t say a word. I slipped off the radio from my shoulders and looked into Kudla’s eyes and looked back at the water in the canal and I threw the radio right in the middle of the water. Kudla quickly told the private behind me to jump in and get the radio. Bye, bye radio. I have packed you for over 9 months and it was time for me to be a squad leader. For the rest of my tour I was the squad leader for the 3rd squad.  My final weeks in the bush were pretty routine. We went on night ambush patrols where I was the 3 squad leader in charge of 5 men. I was finally working as a  Sergeant and not having to carry that heavy radio.

 

One day after night ambush patrol at Nhon Trach, the “Dust Bowl”, we came in the base camp and went to breakfast. It had been raining all night and continued to rain after we got back from chow. The roads at Nhon Trach were nothing more than graded dirt, and when it was dry it was very dusty, thus the name “Dust Bowl”. Our tents sat up the hill from the roads and we had a pretty good view of the camp. As we sat under the ponchos we had set up near our tents, a few of us were talking and goofing off. There was vehicle traffic on the muddy roads down below us but we never paid any attention to it. We were just talking, waiting to get tired before we would all lie down and take a nap and get rested for that night’s ambush patrol. All of a sudden a deuce and a half (A truck in the 2½ ton weight class) slid off the road at the bend in the road just below us. Someone mentioned it and remarked how slick the roads were in the rain. We could see the driver of the truck that slid off the road get out of the cab and walked around it and accessed the situation. The 2½ ton in front of him, still on the road surface stopped and was yelling to the driver in the mud. Soon the driver still on the roadway tossed the other man a long towing strap and he started to hook up the strap to his bumper. The driver on the roadway attached his end to the rear bumper of his vehicle. The driver of the vehicle off the road, soon found out the strap was too short for him to attach to his bumper, and asked the driver on the roadway to back up a little to give him more slack. The man in the mud stood in front of his vehicle as the driver of the vehicle on the roadway started to back up. His truck wheels now had slipped off of the roadway and started to slide down the hill. We could tell he had his breaks on because the back tires were not moving, but sliding in the mud directly at the stuck vehicle. The driver of the stuck vehicle did not have a chance to react. The 2½ ton vehicle now hit him and pinned him between the two trucks. We did not hear any sounds from the man trapped between the two trucks. We could see that his head fell forward and down. He died within seconds. The other driver in the vehicle could see what had happened in his rear view mirror on his truck and tried to pull his truck forward, but the tires just kept spinning. Before we knew it, several people were at the scene including a Chaplin. The first vehicle was finally pulled away, unpinning the young man who had just lost his life.  An image like this lasts forever....

 

Once we drove back to Di An, we started to get ready for a shower, then put on clean clothes and get something good to eat. Two new men came into our hooch and asked where they could put their belonging.  They were asked if they were drinkers or pot smokers.  Both men said they were drinkers.  I decided that I would show them where they could bunk and put their belongings.  Without taking my shower, I told both men to report outside with me for their first detail.  Once out side, I told them to walk with me.  We headed for the outhouse.  Behind the outhouse was a field.  I ordered both men to search the field for a stick, and once they found a stick they were to come back and report to me.  Both men took off and soon found sticks and reported back to me.  I took them behind the outhouse and opened the door below.  I said, "men you are about to learn how to burn shit."  My day had finally come!

Goodbye, Vietnam

Goodbye, Vietnam

Before I knew it, I was down to my last 3 weeks. Delta Troop 3/17th Air Cav had a policy that anyone who was down to their last 3 weeks would come out of the field and start their processing out. I will never forget that one of the places I had to process out was the Re-enlistment Office. I knew this was a waste of my time, but it was mandatory that everyone had to do. I entered the office and I was greeted by an E-8 Sergeant. He said that it was his duty to explain re-enlistment to me and that it was my duty to listen. He went on the say that he knew I was only 19 years old with my whole life in front of me. If I wanted to, I could re-enlist for 6 years, and by the time I got out I would still be a young man at 25 years of age. I immediately said no. He said, "Wait, now if you signed up today they would give you a 30 day vacation to home starting today?" I said, "No thanks." He then went on to say that the Army would promote me one grade, to E-6 Staff Sergeant starting today. I again said no thanks. He said, the Army will cut me a $10,000.00 re-enlistment bonus which would be mine as soon as my 30 day leave was over. I begin to start thinking about it. I would only be 25 when I get out, promoted to E-6, 30 day leave and come back to a $10,000.00 check. It sounded too good to be true. I then said, what is the catch? He then went on to tell me that after my 30 day leave to home I would come right back to Vietnam, my same outfit and have to pull one more year in the bush. I then stood up and said, "hell no!"  I have already been injured 3 times, had one Purple Heart and seen too much death over here to last me for a life time. The Sergeant said, he understood, but it was his job to explain the re-enlistment program to me. I had been in South Vietnam all of my tour and it was rumored that our Unit was going to be moving out of Di An and heading up north somewhere. I thought, the south was bad enough, I don’t even want to think about going up north.


Before I knew it, September 29th, 1970 was here. I was bused to what we called the big silver bird to be flown home. As I got on the plane, I looked around for Bob Potts, since we had arrived the same day in Vietnam, he should be leaving the same time as me. I did not see Bob and I took a seat. This was it, I thought. 1 year of my life had just ended and I was on my way home for good. As the plane lift off the ground, I looked down at the country and said to myself, bye, bye Vietnam, this will be the last time I ever see you.  I was proud of serving my Country.  I was happy to have made good friends while I was there.  I was sad that I lost my good friends Barney McCoy Smith and SSG Willie Hayes.  I know I would never be the same.


Once I got off the plane at San Francisco, I was trying to see if Bob had been on the plane. I was taking my time walking from the plane to the terminal. People were standing outside the chain linked fence with their faces pressed up against the fence yelling, “Baby Killers, Murders” and other insults along with spit that was coming from all directions. I soon gave up lagging behind looking for Bob because the spit was coming to close. I thought, I just got back from putting my life on the line for our Country for the last year, and this is my welcome home. Wow, how unfair.  While processing out, a Sergeant said if anyone wanted to file a disability claim they could, but it would take an extra 2 to 3 days before we would be released.  He said an Army Doctor would have to see us before we could leave and it would take between 2 to 3 extra days before he could see us.  No one wanted to wait another minute there, they wanted to go home.   I did not see Bob while processing out at San Francisco.

My sister Donna picked me up at the airport and drove me home to Jackson. I was having a hard time adjusting to being home. I often wondered how Bob was doing. I soon realized that I did not have his phone number, didn’t know where he lived other than Vallejo and I didn’t even have a way to drive there. My friends stopped coming around except for a few. Nobody wanted to talk about the war, not even my Brother-In-Law. So, like most Vietnam Veterans, we just kept it inside and went on about life.

Trying to adjust back to civilian life

(Dave Grijalva, Don Garbarini, me, and Tom Garbarini)

 

In August 1971, I married my wife Karen. If it wasn’t for her, I probably would have ended up in prison or would have died at an early age. The last time I saw Bob Potts was sometime in the winter of 1971. The wife and I were coming out of Mel’s Diner in Jackson after eating, when a corvette came pulling into a parking space where I was standing and almost hit me. I thought, what the hell is a matter with this idiot. I heard, “Bill!” I looked inside the car and it was Bob. He had a young lady with him. They were stopping at Mel’s for a cup of coffee to go, because they were on their way to Lake Tahoe to go skiing for the weekend. We talked a few minutes while their coffee was being prepared. We hugged and said that one day we would get together and talk.  In 2015, after communicating with Bob's niece, through e-mail, I found out that Bob had passed away in June of 1995.  He had two failed marriages in his short life. I know for a fact that he suffered from PTSD. I miss him every time I think of the Army or Viet Nam.  I wish I could have been more involved in his life.

Vietnam was the longest war in American history and the most unpopular American war of the 20th century. It resulted in nearly 60,000 American deaths.  Even today, many Americans still ask whether the American effort in Vietnam was worth it.  We were young and did what we thought was right! Too young to vote, but not to fight!!

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