March 1971
“HOT AS HELL”March 3, 1971
Dear Mom and Dad,
I got a little scratched up yesterday on a contact way out near the river but I’m okay and didn’t need much but a bandage on my right hand. We were working with an OV-10 Bronco spotter plane and had a little long range tangle with 3 VC who managed to scoot off and disappear.
We’ve been through 2 corpsmen since Doc Donoghue left. The first guy kind of froze up on us after one day and had to be replaced. The Doc we got now seems solid.
Thanks for the package. I got it today. It’s hot as hell here and I don’t feel like writing much. I’ll write soon,
Love,
Alan
“DEATH IN THE FAMILY”
March 5, 1971
Dear Mom,
I got your letter yesterday about Grampa. I’m so sorry. Grampa was a great guy. I know you must miss him bad. I do already. I’m really sorry I’ll never get to see him again. They won’t let me take emergency leave unless it’s a member of my “immediate family,” which means mother, father, sister, brother, son or daughter only.
We are way in the back of our AO today and waiting for a resupply chopper. I’ll put this letter on it. Try not to worry too much, Mom. I’m pretty good at taking care of myself. Like Dad says, keep your socks up.
Love,
Alan
“THE GOOD LIFE”
March 7, 1971
Dear Mom and Dad,
Hooray, today I’m out of CAP 10 and out of the bush! I packed my gear this morning and rode into CACO 2-7 (7th Company HQ) on the resupply truck. I knew they needed a radio operator so I had some guys put the good word in for me. CAP 10 hasn’t been the same since Tom left. I needed to get out.
So now I’m lying on a real mattress in a plywood hooch and tonight at 2400 hours I start my first graveyard shift in the commshack. It’s this little plywood shack covered with sandbags and stuffed with radio gear and maps and stuff. They’ve got pizza here and Carling Black Label beer. And Schlitz! And sandbags and barbed wire! I’m livin’ the good life now!
Well, I’ll write again soon. Now I’m gonna stretch out and “unlax”, as Dad would say.
Love,
Big Al
“PRETTY SCREWED UP”
March 11, 1971
Dear Mom and Dad,
Last night I was working in the commshack when CAP 10 got hit and called in. They had a Marine critically hit and it turned out to be Ronnie Ross, a guy who joined CAP 10 the same day I did. He got 13 rounds in the groin, a full magazine on auto, by the South Vietnamese PF lieutenant who runs the counterparts out there. I know the bastard, been on patrol with him. Anyway, it was crazy. Lt. Ivy was on the radio trying to calm Hutson down, I was on the other net trying to get a Dustoff (medevac helicopter from Danang). Hutson was screaming over the radio, and everybody had their guns on everybody else out there. Lt. Ivy sent Lt. Grebenstein and a small force out to keep everybody from killing each other.
What a night. Finally got a duster out there and the CO pulled the CAP out of the bush, but it doesn’t look good for Ross. The PF says he thought Ross was VC, but it’s kind of hard mistaking a 6 foot 2 black man with an M-60 as a dink. The word is there was bad blood between them and the PF smoked him on purpose.
I’m okay still. There’s some scuttlebutt that 2nd CAG will be pulling out in June or July so maybe I won’t have to do a full year here. We’ll see. I may be eligible for R&R pretty soon and when I find out I’ll pass the word. Some guys might get early outs after their tour is over but I probably won’t cuz I’ve still got 3 years to go. Remember, Dad, when I wanted to go to West Point? Never ever made those grades. Remember when I said I was going to make the Marine Corps a career? I don’t think so now. Things are pretty screwed up over here.
Love
Big Al
U.S.M.C (Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children)
“NOISE AND SMOKE”
Undated (maybe late March)
Dear Mom and Dad,
We got mortared in CACO last night! And here I was thinking I was safe. I was sleeping and big clumps of dirt and schrapnel started banging into the walls of my hooch. Got up, pulled on my boots, grabbed a helmet, ran outside and we were taking serious incoming. Four or five guys were working our mortars. We had lume coming in. I went to the commshack and hung out cuz it was almost time for me to go on duty anyway.
Lots of noise, lots of smoke, not enough sleep. I gotta get a new job. It’s dangerous around here. Can’t write more now.
Love,
Big Al