The observer, on this Veteran’s Day, still grateful that he had a desk job in Long Binh, South Vietnam.
He was enjoying a private room in the barracks, riding in an climate-controlled bus to an air-conditioned office, assisted by pretty Vietnamese secretaries and taking advantage of modern technology. The equipment even included electric typewriters and copying machines. They were just beginning to experiment with fax machines. One could even call home once a week after a long wait for the telephone at the first sergeant’s office. 
The observer’s assignment was as a legal clerk, primarily because he had typing skills. He kept up with University of Louisville football and basketball by getting on the mailing list for the Courier-Journal’s special sports section for the troops. And a cousin would see to it that he always had the latest UofL schedule posters behind his desk.
The closest he would come to combat would be overnight guard duty on the perimeter of a sprawling Army base. Watching the weeds mostly, once seeing a distant U.S. helicopter spraying thousands of rounds at an unseen enemy. Then there was the cobra that suddenly appeared on the ledge one night, causing the observer to fall backward off his perch. A quick call to the commanding officer obtained permission to shoot the serpent.
He would escape the office in the late afternoon to play volleyball on the large blacktop parking lot, where he would incur his only mishap in Vietnam, a broken arm, getting him out of guard duty for six weeks. Another highlight would be getting selected as Soldier of the Post while on guard duty — he was the only soldier out of six knowing the name of the Vice President of the United States at the time — Spiro Agnew — believe it or not.
He knew he was blessed with such circumstances at the time, coming in daily contact with soldiers from outlying areas serving in unbelievable conditions, crawling around in the rain and the mud much of the time, shooting, being shot at, waching close friends and bitter enemies die, wondering, hoping, counting the days, praying that they would make it home, some of them today still attempting to cope with what all they saw and did.
To those guys and to the troops still doing it in those hell holes in the Middle East, thanks from a mere observer for your sacrifice.
One. Two for good measure.
It’s reassuring to know we had people of your top caliber on duty back then, Charlie, and it’s so good to know we have conscientious citizen soldiers protecting our rights and freedom on duty around the world today.
Tell us, though, how many shots did it take to slay the serpent?
Charlie, thanks to you and all Vets for your service to our country and the cause of freedom.
Courtesy of a 2S student deferment and then a high lottery number, I never served. I have always revered those who have, such as you and my father.
My dad served in the Army Engineers in WWII, drafted in 1943 despite being 37 yo, married with one kid and another on the way! They cleared mine fields, built temporary bridges and the like behind the front lines.
He received a Purple Heart from shrapnel received from an exploding mine. Throughout life, his story was that his sargaent stepped on a nearby mine as they were clearing a field.
One day, after dad had received his diagnosis of terminal cancer at age ~86, I was alone with him in his hospital room. He began to tell the story of his war injury again….only, this time it had a different ending. After the sargaent stepped on the mine, it blew his body up in the air. The body came down head-first…on another mine! The sarge’s upper and lower body were blown apart…some of it onto him. My dad cried…the first time I had ever seen him do so.
Dad had carried that witness around inside himself for over 50 years! What else could he and others never share? The horrors!!
God bless you, Dad, and all other Vets, today and every day we live in freedom.
Thanks for sharing your dad’s story, Tom. Sorry he had to go through that terrible experience. We never know what some people go through for us. Hopefully we never take them for granted.
I was at Ben Hoa, an Air Force base right next to Long Binh, Charlie. You’re probably leaving out a lot details because it wasn’t that pleasannt for any of us. Thanks from a fellow vet for your service and sacrifice.