The path that took me to Vietnam started at Penn State when I enrolled in the ROTC program in my freshman year in 1965. This was a decision based upon the certainty that I would eventually be going to Vietnam, one way or the other. So instead of waiting for the draft and going in as a private, I decided to do my tour in Nam as an Artillery Lieutenant in the Army.

  During my 4 years at the Penn State, majoring in accounting, I knew in the back of my mind a day would come when I would actually be reading my military orders that would send me to Nam. But I can remember the day in 1970 very clearly when I had these papers in my hand and my eyes were frozen on only a few words. One was "Vietnam" and the other was "Top Secret Clearance". It sort of took the wind our of me for a few seconds. My specialty was the self-propelled 8" howitzer. And on top of that I was trained in the assembly and firing of its atomic round. My first thought was "GeeWiz….I am going to be firing nuclear weapons….".  That was the only reason my order would have had "Top Secret" in them.

 So, off I went. The plane ride was the most  uncomfortable in my life. They packed us in like sardines. The charter airlines were making big bucks. Comfort going or coming was not on the menu. I was nervous. And I remember actually studying my artillery notes in flight. Laying in a battery and aiming it in the right direction so you don't kill the wrong people is not an easy task. One slight error, one degree off would be a disaster. I can remember someone in training who laid in a battery 180 degrees off! Not good. And someone else fired a round incorrectly and it landed in a barn killing a cow.

  We were informed that the airplane was starting its descent to land in Saigon. The plane went into very tight and fast turns to avoid being a target from someone on the ground. Once off the plane, the first thing I felt was the oppressive heat and humidity and the loneliness. And then I had to sit tight for a couple days waiting for my in-country orders. I had no idea where I would be sent. The rumor was that if you were artillery, you would be assigned to a South Vietnamese unit as a forward observer calling in artillery rounds.

  This was a fate next to death. The life-span of a forward observer was measured in days or minutes back then. So I paced a lot, waiting. Finally, I was told I was going to Can Tho in the Mekong Delta. Had no idea what it was like down there but I was told it was a Combat Aviation unit. Now what in the hell was an artillery officer going to do with Huey gunships and Cobras?

  The flight down to Can Tho was surreal. The view outside the cargo plane was of a moonscape. The land was pitted and scared and laid waste by endless bombings. Again, the descent again was death-defying with tight and fast turns to avoid ground fire.

  The waiting was agonizing. I walked around the compound with a couple new friends to see what we could see. We happened upon the morgue -- a bunch of freezer boxes outside for the temporary storage of the guys who did not make it. In our macabre nervousness, we all posed for a group picture indicating our bravado at death's door. The fascinating thing was this picture never came out. It was the first picture I took in Nam and the only one that never was developed. Some sort of sign?

  Well, to make a long story shorter, at this moment my accounting degree was needed more than my artillery skills. They needed someone to replace the three officers who had been running the Officers Club. Their tour was up and my was just starting. Ok, it sounded cool at first. It had its ups and downs. What did I know about running an Officers Club, a restaurant , waitresses, USO entertainment…???? Nothing.

The End...

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