“Dear mom, dad and Sue, I have 100,00 letters to write today so this will be short. First off, I’m ok. We’re presently in at LZ Terry for a rest. After the last few weeks we can really use it. The VC are pulling and offensive at present and things are pretty hot here. There’s two VC regiments just over the border. At night they come across, play hell with us and before we can bring in effective fire support, they’re back across the border. Bravo company was sent into our area of operations when we were extracted to LZ Terry. The next night two of Bravo’s platoons were virtually reduced to nothing, 14 dead, 40 wounded. It could have been us. They were hit by an estimated 200-500 gooks whose mission was to destroy the first American unit they came in contact with. Tomorrow we go back to the same area. We stay alert and keep our gear straight, we’ll be allright. This offensive is supposed to end in a couple of weeks. I put a little dot on the map to show you where we are working.”
If you return to the map page you can find Cu Chi on the map. There is an area near the border with Cambodia that was called the Parrot’s Beak. That’s where we were operating, trying to interdict NVA units coming down the Ho Chi Minh Trail. As I said in the letter itself, this is a short letter. I’m sure I scared the hell out of my mom with what I wrote. Then I completely changed the tone.
“Dad, thanks a lot for your letter. I do intend to finish school, butI think I might like to work with you – depends on what you’ve got planned.” I actually did join my dad the summer after I go out (June 1970), and it did not go well. So I did return that fall to TCU. “I’ve been trying to think of something to get into. Cape Cod just isn’t the ideal place to make money. I’d like to help you during the summer for sure, that’s is of course if the pay and the working hours are right.” In hindsight, I can’t believe I was dictating working conditions to my dad. He was a my way or the highway kind of guy and we had a rocky relationship for most of my life. Oops I just finished that sentence and I took it back with, “Just kidding. Ask and I am yours.”
“Mom, I got your cookies while we were at Terry. They didn’t last long, so keep ‘em coming. I took the stamps off the package, but I can’t find them.” My brother Rob was a stamp collector. “If I find them I’ll enclose them in this letter. Also enclosed in this letter is several pay vouchers I want you to hang on to for me. There is also a picture of a grunt holding an M-79 grenade launcher, the same one I carry. It’s in the ‘cracked open’ position.”
“Keep those letters coming. I finally heard from Rob. Take care all, Love Dave” Because this letter was short, I included it in it’s entirety. Rob was in the Marines at the time, but not in Viet Nam. I can’t think of anything else to write about this letter except that mom baked great cookies and my sister keeps up that tradition. I’ve tried to duplicate them, but they never come out anywhere near the same. A gym friend who is following this blog mentioned to me today that he read the word “gook” in one of my afterthoughts. I tried to find the reference in previous pages, but couldn’t. If anyone finds that I used the word inappropriately, I apologize for that. I can’t imagine doing that. Back in the early 80s, I worked for Catholic Charities in their refugee resettlement program, working with Vietnamese, Laotians, and Cambodians. I had lost my wartime biases by that time.