My Day Off

It was the evening before Memorial Day, 1968. 1/7 had been in the bush on Operation Mamaluke Thrust for weeks. We were in the normal state for grunts, tired and filthy. Our only baths for the past few weeks had been wading river crossings. Imagine our surprise and delight when we were told that we were going to get a “day off” for Memorial Day! We were told that we would be taking our day off at a place called Thrung Duc. It was an Army special forces post near an old French airfield. Unfortunately, it was a few miles away. We walked all night to get there.

When we arrived the next morning, after “humping” all night, a light rain was falling. As soon as we left the jungle behind and entered the open space of the airfield, incoming mortars greeted us. We were nonchalant about being mortared. They were falling on the other side of the field, walking toward us but never getting close enough to be a real concern. After a while the mortars stopped, at least temporarily.

We wasted no time in breaking out the E tools and making ourselves homes, in the form of fighting holes, along the airstrip. There was a cornfield next to us, from which I took a few corn stalks to make my hole more luxurious and comfortable. The corn stalks made a nice barrier against the mud bottom of my home and were relatively soft. I was in the lap of luxury.

Some of the guys put up ponchos over their holes to keep out the rain. I did not. Those that did use ponchos over their holes were to regret it a few minutes later when the mortar attack resumed. My guess is that the break in the mortar attack was a result of the enemy breaking down their mortar tubes to move them closer to us since they did not have enough range to reach us. When the mortar attack resumed, they did indeed have the range. Shrapnel holes began to appear on the ponchos that were used to shelter from the rain.

A fixed wing aircraft landed on the field. I had never seen one like it. It had a very high tail and a rear ramp which opened to unload something. It did not stay long, probably because its crew was adverse to mortar shells.

A Marine ran past our holes throwing each of us a Dixie cup. He explained as he ran past that the Dixie cups were for ice cream that would be coming on the next airplane. Ice cream!! What a treat that would be. I held on to my Dixie cup, and occasionally turned it upside down to drain out the rain that had fallen into it. We waited, and we waited, and….we waited. I must have turned my Dixie up upside down a few dozen times. Several hours later the inevitable word came that the aircraft with the ice cream would not be coming. Perhaps the first aircrew had informed the ice cream delivery aircraft of the day long mortar attack.

Meanwhile, we spent the day playing battleship. You remember that game where you take turns with your opponent designating squares on a paper battlefield where your rounds will land. If they land on your opponent, his assets in that square are killed. The problem with this game of battleship is that I did not get my turn, and you really did get killed if your opponent picks the right square.

Fortunately, my square was not found by the enemy mortar crew. They did find some squares resulting in 13 Marines being wounded. There were a whole bunch of shredded US issue green ponchos.

Our day off ended in the afternoon when the word was passed to “saddle up” and prepare to move out. We walked all night to get to the place where we had been the day before, to resume our operation. Then of course, we walked all day to make up for lost time as a result of our day off.

I much prefer my most recent Memorial Day celebrations. Hot dogs on the grill and cold beer beat playing battleship while periodically turning your rain filled dixie cup upside down any day.