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

Chapter 7 A Veteran under the Desk

169 ✚ Chapter 7 ✚ A Veteran under the Desk Thanksgiving Day, Thursday, November 24, 1966, Phu Loi, South Vietnam On Thanksgiving we got caught in the enemy’s crossfire. The authorities in Vietnam confined most women to relatively safe rear areas. However, in Vietnam, commanders allowed the Red Cross girls to go where few went. We traveled to visit the men everywhere, even to the foxholes, as Sandra and I had done at Buon Blech. Thanksgiving Day, Dee (DeMaris) Walton and I planned to visit the 1st Infantry Division’s 2/2nd Infantry in their field position at Phu Loi. As soon as we arrived, our escort, the Battalion S-1 Personnel/Administration Officer, Capt. Jerald D. Fuhriman,1 found that we would have to wait. He told us, “B and C Companies are in a firefight, and everyone else is in an awards ceremony.” Even Army Chief of Staff Gen. William C. Westmoreland was there. “We can’t see units in the field or in base camp until after the ceremony.” We knew we could not present a recreation program on this visit, but we hoped to serve Thanksgiving dinner at as many places as possible. It would give the men a chance to talk to an American girl, probably for the only time in their year in Vietnam. A smattering of personnel moved among headquarters buildings. Dee and I joined half a dozen men gathered around a field radio on a 170 Donut Dolly jeep. They welcomed us. We discovered that they were listening to the conversations going on among the elements engaged in the fighting that was making us wait. The men brought us up to date, “A unit of our infantry has engaged a group of VC at one end of the valley. The VC broke off and fled down the valley. Our scout helicopters spotted them, and told the commander their strength, position, and movement.” Another continued, “The commander directed another infantry unit to intercept the VC. He ordered the first unit to withdraw, but watch out the VC didn’t double back and ambush their withdrawal.” Over the radio Dee and I heard the commander give the order: “Pull out bag and baggage and all your wounded. Make sure there’s somebody covering your ass!” He called for artillery and for a “dustoff ,” a medical evacuation helicopter, for the wounded. I was pleased to learn that the heroic stand-to-the-last-man, leave-me-behind-saveyourself story line was a Hollywood fiction. The soldiers who listened to the radio cheered and rooted for each unit, even more excited than if they were listening to a ballgame. Their friends were out there. Men like those, who drove for officers, earned a break from combat by showing how good they were in the field. One man almost shouted, “Yes, get the artillery in there, level that house, get that sniper!” Another man asked, “Why aren’t they using the tanks? They’ve got four tanks out there.” A third man exclaimed, “Here comes the dust-off. I see it, over there.” He pointed. The fight was so close we could actually see the medical evacuation helicopter in the sky above the treetops, with a big Red Cross on the side. In agony, I watched it creep. It searched for colored smoke to show where to pick up the wounded. The enemy, no doubt, had plenty of time to take aim at it. “There it goes,” shouted the first man. He pointed to the ship again. It dove into the trees. “Those people will go anywhere. They’re going to A Veteran under the Desk 171 draw a lot of fire on that one.” Everyone nodded, their eyes wide. On the radio the chopper confirmed lift off with the last wounded soldier. Dee and I were relieved. A Hollywood happy ending could be real. We went over to the awards ceremony with the rest of the people. General Westmoreland was there, also the premier of South Vietnam, Nguyen Cao Ky (“Win kow kee”). The awards ceremony filled the parade ground, which looked like a high school football field. A reviewing stand at the 50-yard line extended about a third of the length of the field on the right side. The crowd overflowed and spread outward, standing all around the field, as at the big game on Thanksgiving. This was Thanksgiving. Dee and I joined...