At the end of 1966 I transferred from 3/5 to 1st MPs at Danang Airbase. The CO was looking for a driver, and I had a Government Driver’s License.
This Military Police duty with 1st MP’s at Danang was pleasantly different from the fifteen to thirty days jungle and rice paddy operations I had become used to with 3/5. Now being the CO’s driver, he would tell me to get the jeep, and we would then go to check the security of the convoy routes in and out of the base. It felt like he was the sheriff, and I was his deputy. Whenever we ran into a skirmish, or other problems, he would go in one direction, and I would go in another. When I returned, if the jeep was still there, I waited for the captain, and if the jeep was gone, I found my own way back to base hitching a ride with a convoy.
Danang’s airstrip and port facilities were the centers of the military universe for the Marines, Navy, and Air Force. Besides the fighter jets leaving and landing, there was constant activity with the supply and redistribution of ordnance, gear, and food from the ships to the base, and then to the convoys heading out to the Battalion locations.
Sometimes the fast pace became even faster. When the words “Crippled Phantom Approaching” came over the loudspeaker, a runway became cleared, and fire vehicles would be dispatched, within seconds.
Even though this was a combat zone, and the element of danger was always present, I felt somewhat relaxed. I had changed my mantra from the Stone’s “The Last Time” to Roy Orbison’s “Mean Woman Blues” as my thoughts about returning to the “world” had been increasing. Having known several who had said they were “short,” but ended up returning home in body bags, I was not going to brag until I was “next.”
One of the interesting duties, I did occasionally, was to walk along the jet fuel pipeline that ran in from the harbor. This was a dusk to dawn patrol where you would walk back and forth to the beach from the base, making sure everything remained secured. During the daylight there was a lot of work done along this pipeline, but after dark there was a curfew and everyone, including the local police knew this was a “free fire zone” and you would be shot on sight.
As I had the run of the base, a Force Recon team I knew from my 3/5 days, seemed to have the run of the country. Making themselves known as they were walking toward me on the pipeline one night, I said “Man, can’t I hide from you guys anywhere?” We all laughed, and then they explained they needed me to get them a case of 45 caliber rounds for their grease guns. They did not have time for requisitions and such as they were in the middle of something and needed to be elsewhere within 24 hours. I told them I would stop by the ammo dump before my duty began the next evening and bring them a case. I did not mention their presence to anyone, so the following night, I brought them their rounds and they were on their way. Being that my CO wore the “gold jump wings” I knew he would have agreed with my decision.
