Donut Dolly: An American Red Cross Girl's War in Vietnam

Chapter 4 Hot Landing Zone

93 ✚ Chapter 4 ✚ Hot Landing Zone Monday July 25, 1966, An Khe, South Vietnam About two weeks before I transferred from An Khe to Dong Ba Thin, Sandra and I were working in the office. Opening the mail, she mumbled to herself, “Here’s a letter from the division commander. I wonder what he has to say.” She opened the letter. She startled. “It’s an invitation to dinner at the general’s mess. This is big.” She glanced at the calendar, and then reached for the phone. “We’ll have to clear a couple of things from the schedule. I’d better call them back right away and let them know we’re coming.” At that dinner we would meet the general’s aides, the brightest bachelor officers. Wherever we went, we were quickly surrounded by attractive, intelligent men. But we never knew which ones were married. This general had certified his aides to be single. In training, the Red Cross director had warned, “Some men will not tell you that they are married. If you want to know if a man is married, ask his commander. He will know, and tell you.” Thursday, July 28 An officer from the 1/9th Cavalry, air reconnaissance, telephoned. “We’re celebrating our 100th Anniversary. We want to invite the Red 94 Donut Dolly Cross girls and the nurses.” The men usually invited the women when they had a party. “It will start in three hours. I’m sorry. We didn’t find out about it until a day and a half ago.” We usually had more than three hours to get ready for a party, but for a 100th Anniversary, we could do it. On time, a tall captain wearing an old-fashioned black Cavalry hat with a gold band stood in the door of our tent to escort us. I thought, Wow. Does he look sharp. A Cavalry hat, right out of history. The captain drove the bouncing jeep with all four of us clinging to it. “We threw everything together. Nobody knew it was our 100th Anniversary until we got a note from our counterpart, the Vietnamese 9th Cavalry, to congratulate us.” I thought, They’ve been busy fighting the war. “We went scrambling to our records, and, sure enough, it’s our 100th Anniversary.1 We started to work on it on the double. We pulled all the men in from the field, set up the banquet, and a day and a half later, here we are. We appreciate you girls coming on such short notice.” The evening had begun with the banquet of wine and steak. We arrived late, so by the time we ate, the party was well underway. Our dinner completed, all the Red Cross girls left the table for the ballroom. As I walked through the double doors, a captain put his arm around me. “Would you like a drink?” Military and Red Cross protocol dictated that nobody touched us. Putting an arm around us was unheard of. It annoyed me. But these men had been in the jungle and could be excused some things. I smiled, ignored the question, and walked on. People were singing accompanied by a guitar, and then a band arrived. Dancing was fast and energetic. The party got louder. By now it was on the verge of a fight. The 9th Cavalry was known for its bad behavior. I figured, That’s what you have to be for reconnaissance. I was having a good time, except for the groping captain. Every time I got near him he put his arm around me, frustrating my attempt to stay away from him. He was the burdock seeds that used to cling to my socks when I was a kid. I went outside where it was warm and humid and was Hot Landing Zone 95 talking to a group of people when someone came up behind me, put his arm around my waist, and pulled me away to another group. I thought, Keep your hands off me. It was the captain, drunk by now. “I want you to meet some people.” I let him introduce me to three or four officers and then excused myself. I was gone about a minute, when that arm went around me again. He knew, when it came to the Red Cross girls, the rule was: don’t touch. I became angry. I took a...