Hugh Savage's Memories
Page 5 of 5

vi) Hong Kong R&R

Almost precisely in the middle of my tour I was given R&R leave in Hong Kong. I went with 1LT Larry Hallstrom the XO of B Company who had been one of my room mates at Fort Campbell. We had a couple of days in Saigon before we flew to Hong Kong. In the evenings from the O’Club deck on the top of the Continental Hotel, we could see the flashes of artillery fire in the distance. We flew out of Ton Son Nhut airport over the South China Sea arriving in Kowloon, the part of Hong Kong on the mainland, a few hours later.


1LT Larry Hallstrom in Saigon



We spent the first few hours wandering around the city relishing the fact that the chances of getting mortared or shot at were extremely remote. We were looking for a shop we could have some clothing made for us when out of a crowd an Indian walked up to us, called us by name, told us we were from the 70th Engineer Battalion and had just arrived in Hong Kong and offered his tailoring services. The man was a complete stranger so we were stunned that he knew so much about us. We procured our tailoring elsewhere. We were not completely free of hazards however. It took some effort to remember when stepping off the curb to look right first for oncoming traffic. They drive English style on the wrong side of the street in Hong Kong. We were unable to completely relax since it was Chinese New Year which is celebrated with firecrackers. Lots of firecrackers which sounded very much like M- 16 rifles on automatic.

We were having drinks at our hotel bar when we met two school teachers from Australia on holiday, Deirdre and Judy. We spent much of the rest of our time with them on tours and out to dinner. One evening we took a water taxi to reach our restaurant floating in Hong Kong Harbor. Another dinner we sought out a place not frequented by tourists in which very little English was spoken. As we each placed our order the waiter became increasingly agitated. Finally he got us to understand that the Chinese custom was to order communally. Then everyone shares the dishes. The four of us had ordered enough for a dozen people.

A railroad tour took us to the border with Red China. It seemed very strange to be looking into the territory of the people who were supporting our enemy in Viet Nam. We toured ancient rural villages and crowded city streets. We took a bus tour of Hong Kong Island that included a tram up to the peak of the mountain and a stop at the British Navy PX where I met a young US Navy Ensign I knew from College. He was on leave from Viet Nam and had met his parents there.

The extremity of the change from the conditions we had become used to in Viet Nam made the whole experience somewhat unreal. We had the company of women of our own age who spoke English and did not wear a uniform. The chances of earning a Purple Heart were nil. The parks near our hotel and the weather reminded me of New York City in November. If for only a moment, we were back in The World.

c) Reserves

The ROTC graduate has obligated himself to a 6 year commitment of which two years is to be full time active duty. While on active duty being an Army officer is your only job and you go where they send you. The remaining four years can be as a reservist while otherwise living as a civilian. If an active reservist, you have to attend two weeks of summer camp and attend drills one weekend a month and a few nights a month. It can be a good part time job. However, if your unit is called to active duty, you have to leave your civilian life and go with them. If an inactive reservist, you attend no summer camp or drills but your name is kept on file in case your skill is needed during a national emergency.

One of the engineers in the Boston office of Metcalf and Eddy was also a Lieutenant Colonel in the Reserves. As soon as I came into the office from the field Col. Jack approached me to see if I would be interested in joining the unit he commanded. It sounded interesting so I thought,” why not?” Shortly after my assignment became final I also got a notice from the Army telling me that I was exempt from the Active Reserves because of the “critical” nature of my employment as an engineer. I was assigned to a platoon that stored maps. Another part of the Company printed maps or at least was capable of doing so. Our drills were held in a big old warehouse on the Boston Harbor. There was not much for us to do except shuffle papers with one memorable exception; the time we prepared for riot control. It was the late 60’s and there was a real potential for civil disturbance with feelings running high over the Viet Nam war. By this time I was in graduate school and did not relish the prospect of confronting my classmates or undergraduates wearing a gas mask and brandishing a bayonet. Our summer camps were more interesting. We went down to Fort Belvoir near Washington, DC where we trained with the Army Map Service. They prepared and printed maps that look very much like the US Geological Service’s topographic maps. One year I was part of the advance preparation team and went down earlier in the spring to prepare. On my way home, I was sitting in the Baltimore Airport waiting for my flight when I learned that Martin Luther King, Jr. had been killed and Baltimore was in an uproar. I was very relieved when my flight was called.

After a couple of years in Col Jack’s unit I transferred to an Intelligence Company where my prospects for promotion to Captain were better. This unit’s summer camp was at Camp Drum in western New York State where Dad had gone with his Cavalry unit before World War II. This was the summer before Mommy and I got married. In fact we were not even engaged yet. For some reason I was one of the few who was allowed to drive my car out there. Most of the rest had to go on the unit’s trucks and busses. I became very popular during the weekend when we had some time off. I drove a car full of officers up to Ottawa where we drank and raised hell. Actually they drank and raised hell. I was the only single man of the group and did the least flirting. I may not have been engaged yet but I was obviously more committed than I even realized.

One day the unit I commanded was assigned to grade a road in the back country. They did not need me so I went back to the Battalion. Shortly after I returned I got a radio message that they were being shot at. They could hear shells going over their heads. I ordered them out of there immediately even if they had to leave their equipment behind. We found something else for them to do for the rest of the day. In the meantime I went to the Armored unit to find out where the screw up had occurred. We never should have been down range while they were firing their tanks’ cannons. We straightened things out and having nothing much else to do that afternoon I accepted an invitation to observe their firing practice. We arrived at the firing range after a spring busting ride in which foot deep mud puddles were given no more consideration than I might give a leaf on the highway. They even let me fire a few times. It was much better than firing a rifle: Much bigger bang! Of course my battalion commander, a trolley driver in civilian life, got the word that I had been firing on my own men.

Once I finished graduate school I had a decision to make. I was on track to be promoted to Major soon and I had accumulated 8 years of service. I was almost halfway to qualifying for a pension. However, the company I joined was lukewarm about their employees being in the reserves. If I wanted to, I could use my vacation time for my summer camp. That made the decision easy. There was no way I was going to leave my family at home while I used precious vacation time playing soldier, so I resigned my commission and left the Reserves.

d) Military Habits

I acquired a number of habits traceable to my military experience, especially in the way that I dress. I try to keep my shoes shined, if not spit shined; they are at least not scuffed and dirty. I line up the pleats on my shirt and the fly of my pants and make sure my belt buckle is also lined up accordingly. My shirts are tucked at the waist so that it is flat across my stomach and back. My shirts have a little starch in them. I almost always have a pen and pencil in my shirt pocket and a knife in my pants pocket. The latter is a scouting legacy. I often have my calendar on me to make notes or appointments just as I did in the Army. That does not automatically mean I look at it in a timely manner.

I try to be sure I have duplicates of critical items such as glasses. I had at least two pairs on my person the whole time I was in Viet Nam; one on my face and another in my pocket. When answering the phone I do not just say hello but identify myself although I no longer indicate the organization to which I belong as I did on active duty. And our telephone number is not “seven two nine - eight oh two six” but “eight zero two six”.

I am proud I can say that I am a veteran. I feel that I have contributed my share to the country of my birth. Next to getting married, for me, completing my military service was one of the last steps in becoming an adult. Nevertheless, I have never joined a veterans’ organization such as the American Legion or Veterans of Foreign Wars. When I completed active duty there was no fanfare like there was at the end of World War II. When I came home the war was not over and we ultimately lost. My first public recognition as a veteran came about 30 years after I had returned home. At a school function in Brunswick, it may have been around Veterans’ Day, the veterans in the audience were asked to stand and be recognized.


            




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