The only two ships I set foot on during my four years in the military were the U.S.S. Newport News (a heavy cruiser) for one night escorting a med-evac; and three weeks on the U.S.S. Sanctuary as a patient in December 1968.

(talk about a "land-locked sailor").

 


U.S.S. NEWPORT NEWS

 


U.S.S. Newport News-
Man, could those big guns rock the boat. Now I know
where some of the support we had came from.

 


U.S.S. SANCTUARY- Spent Christmas 1968 on board.

 

 

 

Guess where I spent my R&R?

I really loved Sydney. It was great to be
back in "the world". But from 120 degrees to 40 degrees was tough!

 

 

Quang Tri:

My last few months in Nam were spent with Third Shore Party Battalion in Quang Tri where I ran sickbay, did MedCap to various towns throughout the province, and assisted in rendering medical care to civilians at the Quang Tri Hospital. Reasonably quiet duty except for occasional threat of incoming. Nothing in comparison to my time with the men of "Mighty, Mighty Bravo".

 

 


Third Shore Party, Quang Tri

 


Awards Ceremony- Quang Tri

 


Quang Tri Combat Base

 


Corpsman's Hootch
Third Shore Party Battalion

 

 

HOMECOMING!

My year in Vietnam culminated with processing through Okinawa and on to
Naval Station, Long Beach, California for discharge. In spite of pleas from certain individuals (including one General) to re-up, I decided that I had experienced enough of the good life and opted to enter college instead. When I landed stateside at El Toro and rode in the cab up to Long Beach, many thoughts raced through my head. Here I was less than a week from being in Vietnam and now I am back on American soil. Suprisingly, I did not experience the rejection that so many vets write about at airports or bus terminals.. It wouldn't be until several months later at college that I would come up against the anti-war movement and had to wrestle with that situation. (But that's another story for another place and another time).

 

My homecoming was memorable. Mom and Dad had strung a sheet up on our
garage door with the words "Welcome Home, Alan". I appreciated that. I felt somewhat uncomfortable with all the neighbors that came over that first evening. But I held it together well. That was, until the reporter from the local newspaper showed up to take pictures and "get a story". I would not speak to him and not so politely asked him to leave. I wonder if this was the beginning of my 25 year "put it on the back burner" attitude towards the war that soon developed?

But, hey, I was home. I was safe! The Marines were a thing of the past and

Vietnam was thousands of miles away.

OR WAS IT???