The pilot announced that we would be landing in Saigon in about 20 minutes and we should get ready to disembark. I had a window seat and stared out the window, thinking about how I had gotten here.
In 1963 I was a senior electrical engineering student and had had problems with two of my instructors. Of course, I believed that it was their fault, however, regardless of what I thought, they had to power to assign grades while ignoring test results and they did. I failed both of their courses and, as a consequence, lost my student deferment. A visit to my local draft board indicated that I would be called up in the August draft call. The very kind woman there said that I would probably be put in the infantry and sent to the DMZ in Korea. This did not sound very appealing. I knew that summers were very hot there and the winters extremely cold plus you occasionally got shot at by the North Koreans. Within a couple of weeks, this became a real possibility because my processing for the draft started.
However, I soon received a letter from the Boston Counterintelligence Field Office suggesting that I come in for an interview with the possible goal of enlisting for intelligence rather than getting drafted. Eventually, I agreed and was enlisted at the end of July. After Basic Training at Fort Dix and counterintelligence training (MOS 97B) at Fort Holabird in Baltimore, I joined the Newark, NJ, Field Office. I was promoted rapidly, reaching E-6 in 1965 after two years and four months of service.
Undecided about what do with my life and uninterested in returning to college, I accepted a large reenlistment bonus. As part of the deal, I was guaranteed Area Intelligence (MOS 97C) school and a tour in Vietnam, which at the time was still a small war but an intelligence heaven where careers were being made.
"Please buckle your seatbelts and extinguish all cigarettes. We are starting our approach to Tan Son Nhut Airbase." The plane suddenly became graveyard quiet. In the year and a half since I had reenlisted, Vietnam had become a real war with hundreds of thousands of American troops who were now fighting, rather than advising. The probability of at least some of the men on this plane not coming back was real.
Looking out my window, I could see the individual trees, houses, and even people. The plane was very low, already approaching the runway. Suddenly, the plane banked and changed course. The pilot announced that two fighter planes had priority and would land before us. We would circle around at this low altitude and then continue our landing. I got to see a lot more of the countryside, in great detail since we were so low.
There was a half-hearted round of applause when the plane touch ground. As soon as we stopped moving, people started to disembark, the officers who had been sitting in the front first, then NCOs from the middle, and finally the privates from the back of the plane. I decided that I was in no hurry to stand around in the sun, so I waited and got off last.
Once I was standing on the tarmac, I realized that the ground crew and the stewardesses (the cabin crew was all female so this word is appropriate) were standing under the plane looking up at its belly. I wandered over to see what they were looking at, mainly because there was shade under the plane. They were looking at a row of neat little holes. Someone with a machinegun, judging by the size of the holes, probably an AK-47, had managed to hit the plane.
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