[Penn]

As the decent began through the clouds at 20,000 ft., everyone, except those on a return trip, that could look out the small window to view the landscape below, did. The First banking turns over the turquoise blue sea dominated the view, as the plane continued its decent, an incredible jagged white line of sand came into view, separating the tranquil sea from the emerald green of the jungle. A panorama so beautifully set; it obscured the impending imminent danger it held.

On landing and rolling down the runway the view reviled an intensely busy airport, with planes taking off and others unloading their human cargo. Soldiers marching in single file across the jammed packed tarmac, while in the distance helicopters and fighter jets were silhouetted against the pale blue of the sky.

Mesmerized by the bustling activity, the dream state was brought to abrupt attention with the opening of the plane’s door, carrying the rushing scent of the country into the consciousness that would leave an indelible imprint, etched in the perception, you were a long way from home.

That sensual realization of arriving in a foreign land without a point of reference, dispelled the excitement of adventure with the uneasiness of the unknown. As we deplaned, everyone searched for the intangible consensus they were not alone in their thoughts, making small comments to the first of many lasting experiences as they strode down the long aisle, exiting into the harsh grey light of an early October afternoon in 1970, at Bien Hoa air base in the Republic of South Viet Nam.

The welcoming sign at Bien Hoa airfield, noted the airfield was first established by the French and had been in operation since 1953, and that the base had processed over 1million servicemembers. On the margin, an odious inscription penciled in by one of those soldiers from long ago, sarcastically stated you had 364 more days to go in the land of milk and honey.

The weight of that engraving was further amplified in the crossings path of in processors and out-processing soldiers, with the latter mocking the new arrivals time to go, by noting their days on rotating out or “shortness”. It was, by any standard, the beginning of a new in country vocabulary that was quickly absorbed and manifested to overcome the stigma of being a NFG.

The in-processing system, years in the making, was streamline and efficient. From clothing supply to in-country classes that broadly covered the demographic make-up of RVN, to instruction navigating mocked up trails, identifying tripwires, and where to go should the base receive incoming, was a 5day nonstop event ending with assignments, during that process you where offered the opportunity to request an assignment or unit. If the request met the needs of the Army, the assignment would be granted.

Two of my childhood best friends were already in country with the Americal Division, one was an Infantry grunt with 1/46th and the other a mounted Cav quad 50 driver with the 11Inf Brigade. There was a rumor while in processing that a Spec 4 in assignments could help get you assign to any unit requested. Sought and found, my assignment came through to the Americal 23rd Infantry Division, 11th Infantry Brigade, based in I Corp, Chu Lai, RVN