Phu Cat, Phan Rang and Dalat Convoy photos:
Photos of Dalat AB convoy, the first day photos when we (53 SPs) arrived to open Phu Cat and also Phan Rang as a Gray Eagle Camp.
About 13 Jan 1966, SSG John Achelpohl and I thought our plane, a C-123 had been shot down as it dived toward the runway at Bong Song Airport located adjacent to what would later become runways for Phan Rang Air Base. We were tired, hungry and thirsty. We had just spent the last three days hitching rides starting at Alameda Naval Air Station, CA finally ending up at Phan Rang. We got a jeep ride over to the Air Police area which was a few ugly looking disorganized tents set up on concrete pads. I couldn't wait to get something cold to drink, get assigned a tent and take a shower. There wasn't even anything that even looked like an orderly room to report in to. There is this group of about ten guys just standing around and I said where do we report in. One guy said you just did. I asked where our tent is and he said you are looking at it, pointing to a huge burlap bag with a tent that had to weigh several hundred pounds. I walked over and tried to move it and it didn't even budge. I looked at John who is the eternal doer and optimist and he said, let's get started.
We picked up a few of the poles and knew we were in big trouble. After a few minutes, the guys started laughing and said they would give us a hand. I asked where we could get a cold drink and they said there is none. I said well where is the snack bar. There is none. I said well what about a glass of cold water. They said there isn't any. The water you can get out of the trailer or from the bag over there which cools the water by condensation. I go get a drink of this water which is the temperature of blood. You can drink a gallon but it doesn't quench your thirst. I don't know why but I am ready to panic. Never in the civilized world have I been somewhere where I couldn't quench my thirst even in the deserts of Turkey and Libya.
Welcome to the world of six holers, pee tubes driven into the ground, c-rations and nothing cold to drink. Tent ropes are a hazard for the drunk or unwary because they leave a nasty rope burn. Electrical cables on the ground! What do we do when the monsoon comes? Last tent in the row can't see zip anyway because the bulb is too dim.
I get adjusted to the sweat and grime and carrying enough equipment to qualify for a Panama pack horse up Nui Dat every night at sunset and come down at sunrise. One morning I thought I would have breakfast at the mess tent. I go over and sweat is just rolling off this cook's face onto an old fashioned field kitchen grill. I asked what was for breakfast. "Coffee, no sugar, no cream and pancakes, no butter, no syrup". I asked what else. He says "That's it".
I get over to the tent for a couple of hours sleep. By 0930 the tent is so hot, I am soaking in sweat. It's either head for "The Strip" or go crazy in frustration at being thirsty and sweating so bad I can't sleep due to the heat. After a couple of beers, I walk out back of the bar to the "Restroom", a pit five feet by five feet and no telling how deeply filled with (how do I word this) used beer. I have to get close but no too close because Dude if you fall in there you will dissolve before you can crawl out.
Well, back to the camp because guardmount for Nui Dat and the other outposts come early since you have to walk up there and after dark, you will be in serious danger of breaking a leg or worse and you have to have your equipment laid out so you know where it is and what's yours.
But you get used to it (or learn to put up with it) and take convoys to break the monotony.
Newell Swartz
