Hugh Savage's Memories
Page 4 of 5
I had a hand in the layout and construction of the longest panel bridge in Viet Nam at the
time of its completion. Better known as Bailey Bridges they are made up of modular
parts that can be manhandled and are pinned together to create a bridge. (The French had
left behind their version called an Eiffel Bridge.) Our bridge
crossed the Song Ba Riverto provide a direct access between the Division and the An Khe airport. I helped lay out
the crossing location and the route to the airport. The crossing location was determined
by an outcropping of rock in the middle of the river that we used as a foundation for a
pier. We grouted anchor rods into the rock, built a form out of pierced steel planking cut
to conform to the rock’s shape and filled the form with concrete. The bridge was
assembled on the division’s bank of the
river and then pushed across on rollers to
the pier and then to the far side of the
river. The bridge was dedicated to SP4
Eric Williams who had drowned under
mysterious circumstances a few weeks
earlier at the water point. He was
reported to have been a good swimmer.
I enjoyed my work and I had a fine
Platoon whose morale was high. The
long busy workdays helped the time go
faster. I would go to bed about 9pm each
night and be up at 6am. The evenings
were a little harder for there was little to do. I tended to stay in my tent reading, writing
letters or listening to the radio – either Armed Forces Radio from Saigon or short-wave
radio from India, Indonesia, China or wherever. I did not go to the O’Club very much. It
did not seem prudent to get drunk every night when there was a chance that you might be
in a firefight. More and more often we would find ourselves in our bunker on alert in
case we were needed to restore a penetration of the perimeter. We were never called out
but elements of B Company were while I was there. Especially after those nights I would
be glad to see the morning.
A popular song of the time by The Cyrkle had the refrain
“And I think it’s going to be alright
Yeah, the worst is over now.
The morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball.”
At each sunrise the words would go through my mind. In spite of a solid 9 hours of sleep
most nights I found myself falling asleep during the day. After lunch I would catch a
quick nap in my tent. Yet I was frequently at risk of falling out of my jeep because I
dozed off. My jeep driver learned to wake me
up before we arrived at our destination.
Sp4 Brownell, My Jeep Driver
Toward the end of my tour we began doing
more projects outside of the Division
perimeter. Mostly maintenance on Route 19,
repairing potholes, damaged culverts, etc. It
was not as interesting as the work at the Base
Camp had been but more significantly, we
were much more exposed to enemy action.
Though we usually had a squad of infantry for
security, we still felt naked. About the same
time we began getting intelligence reports of
finding VC sand tables with the Division
perimeter sketched out. A large VC unit was
rumored to be in the area with a mission to attack the Division Base Camp. Local
laborers that worked in the Division area had been caught making sketches. I was getting
short but I wondered if I was getting short fast enough. Fortunately for me nothing
happened. Other than Eric Williams we had no combat casualties while I was there but I
learned later that the unit’s good fortune did not last.
With about two weeks to go my
replacement arrived. I spent a couple of
days getting him oriented and then stepped
back to let him take over. I spent my last
days much
6ft - 7in and Short
like the boat ride over; reading
and sunning. I did not want to return with
a farmer’s tan. Finally THE DAY arrived,
Thursday, June 30th, 1966! I flew down to
Saigon, spent the night at Ton San Nhut
airport, was awakened about 5am for a
flight that would not leave for another 16
hours. The plane made the most vertical
take off I have ever experienced to avoid
small arms fire or worse but we were on
our way back to The World. We stopped
for fuel in Japan in the middle of the night and again in Anchorage, Alaska where some
poor soul got dragged off the plane by the MP’s for threatening a stewardess. What a
stupid thing to do! We got off the plane to stretch our legs but were glad to get back on
because it was cold out. We flew through the night across Canada on our way to Fort
Dix. I was so excited to be going home that I did not sleep for the entire flight which
lasted about 24 hours. When we arrived at Fort Dix late Friday the post was deserted.
Monday was the 4th of July and everyone had left for the long weekend. There was no
one available to process us out. It appeared I might be stuck on post for four days and I
was just an hour from my home. Finally, a Major gave us all a 3 day pass and told us to
come back the following week. Only then did I call my parents and tell them I was back
and could they pick me up? As it happened, my parents had a dinner date with one of
Dad’s shipmates from World War II that evening. I do not remember much about the
dinner. I had been up for about 50 hours. I doubt my conversation sparkled. When I
finally got to bed I did not wake up until the middle of the next afternoon. It was good! I
had been away for 11 months and 1 day and was home to stay.
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