When the door of the colorful Braniff International 707 opened at Bien Hoa Air Base, we were introduced to Vietnam's unique smell: a combination of cordite, jet fuel, smoke, cooking odors, burning human feces, and the most oppressive humidity I had ever experienced. We had just been exposed to the "burn pit" that was South Vietnam.
I have never been one to journal or take notes. My outlook on life has always been,
"Do what needs to be done today, then move on to tomorrow." I had been reluctant to write a book about my year in Vietnam since it would all be based on the memories of what occurred fifty-six years ago. However, my counselor told me it would be good therapy, so I'm writing it. With a few exceptions, the book will not include dates, times, or exact chronological order.
I did benefit from internet sources that helped confirm some dates and events in which I participated. Most of the photos are from my own collection.