I served Mass today. I also played a little black jack-lost $3.50

Here’s a little puzzle for you.

Mary is as old as Ann was when Mary was as old as Ann is now. If Mary is 24, how old is Ann??

I returned to Echo Battery.

Today, I had my hair cut fairly short…as a matter of fact, my skull feels like a piece of velvet, the hair is so short. While it was being cut, the "Gooks" laughed and called me "Buddah" and when I returned, the guys called me the "Monk"

[This short haircut was in preparation for the next move, mentioned below. The local vendors cut my hair in the local style, with hand operated manual clippers. I passed on the shave with the straight razor.]

The front "porch" of the FDC/Comm bunker on Con Thein 

We [Echo Battery] moved to Con Thien, a muddy mess where the "Gooks" fire artillery at all the time.

1220-we took about 15-20 rocket rounds-NVA type. No one was hurt as far as I know.

The sun is out today and the mud is beginning to dry up. The hooch/bunker I live in is about 7 feet long, 8 feet wide and 4 feet high. Three of us live there.

Let me say that the two other guys in the bunker with me are L/Cpl. Terry (Short) Crosby and L/Cpl. L. E. Frederick. No Mass Yesterday.

Seven of us were on the other side of the Hill getting some 30 ft. 2x8’s. We were scraping mud off them to make them lighter. A mountain gun fired and landed and went off 30 feet away before any of us had a chance to get in a hole.

While it was blowing up, three of us dove in a hole nearby. The other four ran for a big bunker. The only thing that saved us from being scratched or even killed was that the round fell directly into the bunker next to the one we jumped into before it blew up.

That was close. So Cpl. Sopco said, "Go on back when you get a chance. We don’t need the boards."

"Who said?"

"I did, now "make your hat" (move-run-go as fast as you can...in Vietnamese; deedeemau!)  when you get ready."

This is our seventh day up on Con Thien. Every time Terry and I get out of our holes to put more stuff on top of our bunker, we get incoming and right back inside we go.

Last night, Terry, Fred and I all had to "go to the bathroom" like crazy. Seems that every time we’d try, we’d receive rounds. So we all took off together.

Took us about 3 minutes to "walk" the 50 meters, to our business and "walk" back.

We sat around in the hole last night ‘till about 0130 singing the oldest songs we could think of. Wild!

Our bunker is right around the corner from the FDC (Fire Direction Control: where the fire missions coordinates are called into and translated into clicks of elevation and azimuth on the 105 howitzers.)  and that’s about the only time I leave my hole - to stand radio watch.

Today, Echo got two confirmed Elephant KIAs, carrying ammo for the NVA.

[Aircraft spotters would fly overhead, spot enemy movement and call their position back to us for fire missions. After the fire mission, the spotter plane would make another pass to verify the results of the mission.]

Today, I filled sand bags most of the day. It was a quiet day, except for a few mortars early in the morning.

Then about 1700, we were hit with about 25 rounds of 85mm mortars. Close.

Then Cuda told me it hit so close to his hooch that it ripped open most of the bags we filled today.

About 0100 this morning, we were hit with 120mm or 140mm rockets. Took 1 KIA and 3 WIAs. The attack lasted about 3 hours.

It has been an exceptionally quiet day. Only a few rounds…

I had radio watch from 1200 ‘till 1800.

I think our roof is too heavy. It began sagging tonight. We could hear the center beam cracking, so Terry and I got us some boxes and propped it up. I hope it holds.

It held. But bright and early the next morning at 0700, we got up and completely disassembled that bunker and built a new one, from scratch.

It is about 8x6x5 feet high. It looks like an old hunting cabin on the inside.

Today, we put the final touches on our new home. A new row of sand bags one foot away from the wall and roof high, with dirt between the wall and sandbags.

We also got a Coleman lamp from the Lieutenant. –Just like uptown!

We rearranged racks too.

Last night Fred slept with his feet under Terry’s rack and I had mine up on it, so he couldn’t win, no matter which end he slept at.

Saturday, 20 Oct ’67

Terry Crosby left Con Thein today to get himself ready for R & R. He won’t be back. He goes home soon, to be married November 2.

In the past week, we have picked up at least five new people. Three are in radio and two sleep in our log cabin, giving us a total of four. We now have a bunk rack and two cots.

It keeps warm at night but the lieutenant gets all torque (Angry/ Twisted out of shape/ tense and tight and pulled to the limit.)  when we make a lot of noise ‘cause we used the wall of the FDC bunker for our left wall. (The sound travels easy.)

Monday, Oct 22 ’67

Today, we decorated our hooch with an official Rebel Flag. Yahoo! (Back then, I didn’t realize the potential of that word: Yahoo!)  Sgt. Davies decided we ought to put another row of sandbags around our house. He said "It’ll look prettier."

This morning, 1,500 meters from the DMZ, five men and myself held a police call for three hours in Echo’s position atop Con Thein for General Krulak, who didn’t make it. [He didn’t show up.]

Today, Fred and I had L-Z (Landing Zone) watch. We took about 25 rounds of 85mm mountain-gunfire, plus sporadic fire all day. Oh, yes; a new radio operator showed up today. It is reported that he is 6’6". Tex isn’t even that big.

Coplein, who leaves in three days and Beaucorelli who got here three days ago were wounded today. Coplein was scratched on his head and the corpsman shaved a spot about 6 inches in diameter to put a Bandaid on it.

And in four days, he goes to Australia on R & R. …says he will buy a wig.

Beaucorelli got it in the end (Bottom) - A total of five pieces of shrapnel.

We just took two more rounds of 85mm recoilless rifle and we heard, "Corpsman on one." Gun one. It hit the same bunker that Fred and I sat by this morning. Tex and Mike were shook up, but safe.

I read so much in the papers about the protests of this war.

"A woman burned herself to death…in protest of the war in Viet Nam."

Stars & Stripes: a newspaper that was published about once a month in Viet Nam by the U. S. Military

"Joan Baez is jailed in Draft Protest"

Stars & Stripes

I overslept five minutes this morning so I was punished by filling sandbags all morning.

I have had what I thought to be Jungle Rot on my shins for months now. Today, the Corpsman said it was a mild case of Cellulitis.

Got news that Dad may loose two of his fingers due to an accident at work.

I had radio watch from 2400 ‘till 0600 so I slept in this morning ‘till 1200. 

Engineers have built Echo Battery two huge Ammo bunkers and now every day COMM and FDC has to let all of its available men help on it. Fill sand bags; fill boxes with dirt; tote ammo. My hands are killing me. Even my calluses have calluses.

I am going to try to "skate" today. (The process through one gets off easy and does not contribute - through his own choosing- in any way whatsoevere to the labor force as expected.) - - - I didn’t skate it.

We handed hand-to-hand, 1,200 "105 mm" rounds into a bunker. That’s about 35 tons.

One day, 29 Sep’ 67

Tonight, my pistol and camera were stolen. The serial numbers were turned in and there was supposed to be a shake down (an inspection where the area is thoroughly searched.) but I doubt that they will find either.

Today, I had LZ watch and we were told that the "Gooks" were going to hold a T.O.T. on us at 1100.

Well, 1100 came and nothing happened, but at 1110 it came. Not really so bad, but they put quite a few rounds on us. Nobody hurt.

The helicopters wouldn’t even land because we took rounds all day.

I just heard that the ammo and fuel dump got hit again today, too. I guess it is good we have been getting these re-supplies. Rounds will be scarce for a while.

Tonight, while on watch, I was writing letters. I had on my shower shoes so my feet could air out. I looked down and here was a 7-inch centipede crawling for my foot.

I jumped and Mosley stomped. 

One K.I.A.: The centipede.