GI's best Christmas ... Thanks Sonny H.!

True personal account from a friend in Waverly, Ohio.

                     Ramey

 

 

                       CHRISTMAS AT THE 62^nd ENGINEERS IN PHAN RANG VIET NAM 1966

            Life in Viet Nam was for me, a 20 year old from Franklin Furnace Ohio, horrible.

No, we were not getting hit by Charlie every night or two, and we didn’t go on patrol. …….We played army.

Every night after a 12 hour day in the field, some jerk officer was holding a pre-ig inspection. That means every GI is doing extensive cleaning and polishing of his equipment while the brass was at the PX tent drinking beer. This was every day, seven days a week for about five months!

            We did this stuff until around Christmas and the harassment began to let up a bit.

Everyone was getting the holiday off unless of course you were a cook or something.

            Oh, it felt so good to just lay in the sack after 0500. I just lay there loving it.

            “Hays!”

            Oh no, “what”?

            “Get dressed. You’re driving the deuce and a half.”

            “You have got to be kidding.” He wasn’t. I complained and moaned around but did what I was told. I met a buck sargent and a 1^st. lieutenant at the truck. We all piled in and I was told to drive to Phan Rang. This was a small town about 3 clicks from our compound.

            The sargent directed me around until we came to a place that appeared to be a school. It was an orphanage.

            Sarge got out of the truck and a few minants later, he was leading about 20 beautiful kids to the rear of my truck where we helped each one onto the bench seats located on each side of the bed. They were dressed so fantastic in their native clothes.

            This was the beginning of the most wonderful Christmas I had ever had. How could I ever imagine it would be in Viet Nam.

            We took those kids back to the 62^nd Engineer’s compound where they ate Christmas dinner with the rest of us GI’S. Oh, they loved it.

            After we ate, Santa Clause showed up and began to hand out presents to all the kids, calling them by name. (This Santa kind of looked like the sargent that had ridden into town with me that mourning.)

            Time passed, we returned the kids to the home and this experience was burned into my memory from that time on. Thought I might have to go to field hospital and get my smile surgically removed.

            Truth is, my wife and I don’t celebrate Christmas. I don’t even like it. We have our reasons why we don’t but this story is not about that.

            It’s about, “the best Christmas I ever had”, 46 years ago today.

            May God have blessed those children.