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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