Therefore, as the old saying went in those days, if I wanted to get out of SAC, I had to make a drastic move. The next day, after a few of us who felt the same way had a night out drinking, we all marched into the personnel office and volunteered for Vietnam. We walked out, laughing and saying to each other that it would be 6 to 8 months or more before we would have possible orders. We all had orders in less than 30 days. My next assignment, Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam.
May 1968. If memory serves, the flight from the states to Vietnam was around 16 hours. I remember when the pilot came over the loudspeaker and informed us that we were beginning our descent, I looked out my window and saw the dark green mountains and wondered where "charlie" was hiding. I also remember a chill coming over me and saying to myself "shit, what have I gotten myself into"! The guy next to me said "amen". Cam Ranh Bay, the gateway to Vietnam. Every major incoming and outgoing item that supported the war, including new troops, went through Cam Ranh Bay.
My year tour of duty at Cam Ranh was not that eventful. The biggest thing I had to deal with is watching the civilian jets land with new incoming troops, refuel, and watch them take off again with a plane load of survivors who were lucky enough to make it through and go back to the "world" again. It was truly heartbreaking. More heartbreaking than that, however, were the caskets that were being loaded into the military cargo planes. If ever a person needed a dose of reality, that flight line would give it to you.
Towards the end of my tour at Cam Ranh, I went to personnel and selected my top three choices for stateside. I chose great bases with little chicken shit factors. When my orders arrived I was excited, I was getting the hell out of Vietnam. I opened my orders to see what great assignment I had, and there it was, Tinker AFB, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Great! F**KED by the Air Force again.
Tinker was a depot base that was 90% civilian run with the 10% military being the step and fetch it boys. Now I find myself doing some really important work for the war effort by doing inventory control and counting nuts and bolts. Well, to quote an old country and western star I told them "take this job and shove it". I marched down to personnel and, you guessed it, volunteered for another Vietnam tour. In almost the time it took me to pack my bags, I was off to Phan Rang Air Base, Vietnam.
August 1969. Believe it or not, I was home. Unlike Cam Ranh, Phan Rang was considered an R & R site for the ground troops. We had an air-conditioned theater, swimming pool, movie stars (just kidding). I was assigned to Headquarters Squadron this time, not supply, and as I told you at the very beginning, FATE was going to lend a hand. I was roomed (cubicalled) with a fairly decent guy, but he was short and only was there a few days.
My next roommate, who arrived a few days later, was assigned to the broadcast group for the base. They did interviews with the troops, sent the tapes back home to the folks and to the papers, that kind of thing. We hit it off okay, although we were complete opposites in personality. He was very close to the vest and me, well; let us say I was not.
Then one day he comes into our hooch and informs me that Phan Rang is going to start doing a local 3-hour broadcast that will override AFVN's signal. He informs me that all of the bases are creating their own little radio stations and shows and will promote activities that are happening in their own communities. He says he will have to ask his Major, but feels that if I wanted to; I could be his studio engineer for the launch of RADIO PHAN RANG, 101.75 FM.
It was a crazy set-up. We had a couple of Teac reel to reel decks, an amplifier, a monitor speaker, a portable cassette player, a turntable, a telephone and a few cords and wires that hooked everything together. However, the neatest thing was this little switch. When 8 p.m rolled around (and we had a big clock that was God), we flipped the switch which put our signal out over the radio relay station that overlooked Phan Rang.
50 Watts was nothing to brag about, but it covered not only our base, but also the towns and hamlets that surrounded Phan Rang. We use to do a gig where I would call in as "charlie" and request certain songs to be played.
