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Editors Notice: This commentary first appeared on The Struggle Horse, an award-winning nonprofit information group educating the general public on army service. Subscribe to their publication.
I awoke early on the morning of Dec. 6, 1972, to pack and say tearful goodbyes to my spouse, Martie, and our one-year-old daughter, Amy. We’d determined forward of time that my father-in-law “Pop” Lowry would drive me from Temple, Texas, to Love Subject in Dallas, to start my lengthy journey to Okinawa, Japan.
Pop and I spoke little or no because the chilly, grey day blurred by the automobile home windows. I used to be misplaced in thought, and my abdomen turned. How had I ended up headed abroad for a yr with out my household, with the potential for going to Vietnam?
I’d joined the Marine Corps Officer Program in October 1965 as a junior at Texas Tech College. Quickly after, Robert McNamara stated he anticipated our troops dwelling by Christmas. Though President Lyndon Johnson had despatched hundreds of troops to Vietnam that spring, I naively believed the battle can be over by the point I graduated in 1967.
It wasn’t, and I breathed a sigh of aid after I transferred right into a Marine Corps legislation program that yr. Certainly the Vietnam Struggle can be over by the point I graduated from legislation college in 1970. But two extra years had handed since my commencement — seven since I’d joined the Marines — and I used to be headed to Okinawa in what had grow to be America’s longest battle.
After a easy flight from Dallas to Los Angeles, I purchased a ticket on the airport for a bus journey to Norton Air Drive Base in San Bernardino. From there, I deliberate to take a Army Airlift Command flight to Okinawa later that night. As soon as I arrived at Norton, although, the flight scheduler instructed me the army deliberately overbooked MAC flights. There was no room for me, he stated, and the following flight out left in two days.
I walked away, dejected. The clock on my 12-month tour wouldn’t begin till I arrived in Okinawa, and two extra days at Norton felt everlasting. Then, round midnight, a seat on that night time’s flight opened up. I used to be very happy to squeeze right into a center seat on the rear of an previous however sturdy 707. We took off round 2 a.m., and after a stopover in Honolulu, we headed nearly due west to Okinawa—and encountered robust headwinds. The pilot introduced we have been low on gas and would wish to cease on Wake Island in the course of the Pacific Ocean.
It felt good to deplane and stretch my legs and even higher to land at Kadena Air Base after 18 hours within the air. It was Dec. 7, 1972, Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. Subsequent cease: Camp Hansen, the place an previous pal from Camp Lejeune, Capt. Mike Smolenski, greeted me. Answerable for the JAG workplace, Mike was scheduled to rotate again to the U.S. in a few months. Whereas I used to be delighted to see him, I additionally felt a surge of jealousy that he would quickly return to the “world.” Earlier than he left, Mike offered me his small, blue Fiat for a cut price worth of $225.
I didn’t comprehend it on the time, however I had arrived in Japan simply a few weeks earlier than the beginning of Operation Linebacker II, the “Christmas bombings” ordered by President Nixon after a breakdown in peace talks between the usand North Vietnam. From Dec. 18 to Dec. 29 — aside from Christmas Day — the U.S. carried out probably the most intense bombing marketing campaign of the Vietnam Struggle.
The Japanese didn’t permit B-52 bombers and fighter jets to fly out and in of Okinawa. However the U.S. may fly its SR-71 Blackbird spy aircraft and refueling KC-135 tankers wherever. When a deafening roar woke me early on the morning of Dec. 18, 1972, I knew one thing important was taking place. I raced outdoors and watched in awe as wave after wave of the KC-135s headed off the island. The planes flew so low over my BOQ I may see and odor the lingering jet fumes. The prevailing scuttlebutt at work that day, which proved correct, was that the tankers have been headed for a refueling mission over North Vietnam.
Later that night, the refueling tankers arrived again on the island in distinct, nearly choreographed waves. I silently questioned if the identical quantity that left that morning had returned — and the way most of the refueled B-52s and fighter jets hadn’t made it.
The identical situation of early flights to North Vietnam and late afternoon returns to Okinawa continued till Dec. 29, with a break on Christmas. That day, the Camp Hansen Officer’s Membership served a particular meal I described in a letter dwelling to my spouse: shrimp cocktail, turkey and dressing, corn, candy potatoes, banana meringue pie, cranberry sauce, and combined nuts, all for a greenback. “Everyone acquired stuffed,” I wrote.
Afterward, I wandered right into a room of the membership with an old school juke field. For a nickel, I performed a Smokey Robinson music I’d all the time loved, “The Tears Of A Clown.” Among the phrases appeared particularly applicable that Christmas, after I was midway all over the world from family members:
However don’t let my glad expression
Provide the flawed impression
Actually I’m unhappy, oh I’m sadder than unhappy
You’re gone and I’m hurting so unhealthy
Like a clown I seem like glad
One afternoon, I drove alongside the primary freeway close to Kadena and nearly misplaced management of my automobile. The notorious SR-71 Blackbird — nicknamed Habu after a venomous snake indigenous to Okinawa — landed nearly immediately in entrance of me. The noise and closeness of the spy aircraft startled me, and I instantly questioned if it was coming back from a surveillance mission over North Vietnam.
I pulled my automobile off the highway to look at the ultimate touchdown and observed how rapidly the aircraft was wheeled right into a hangar, out of sight. The smooth design of the aircraft struck me — like a protracted, sharp pencil with two tail fins. No surprise it was by no means shot down by the enemy!
The bombings continued till Dec. 29, when the North Vietnamese agreed to renew negotiations. The Paris Peace Accords have been signed just a few weeks later. The Jan. 25, 1973, version of the Pacific Stars and Stripes introduced the battle’s finish for U.S. troops: “CEASE-FIRE! All GIs Out of Viet in 60 Days.”
Fifty years have handed since I arrived in Okinawa simply in time for the Christmas bombings and the top of the Vietnam Struggle for America. However the half-century-old reminiscences stay ceaselessly etched in my thoughts.
David Nelson spent three years on lively obligation within the Marine Corps and achieved the rank of captain. When the Vietnam battle resulted in late January 1973, he was stationed in Okinawa. After being discharged, he spent a profession as a tax legal professional and CPA. He was a tax accomplice with Ernst & Younger, and later vice chairman & grant director with Houston Endowment, a personal basis. Nelson lives in Houston.
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