Happy Hour at Naval Detachment Dong Tam Enlisted Men's Club

The time was approaching 0900 hours 26 March, 1969 and to the casual observer Boatswain Mate 2nd Class Ron Zurco's unhappiness might be attributed to his current whereabouts, which was riding the coxswain flat on a United States Navy River Assault Craft.

More specifically, Zurco, the twenty-two year old boat captain, was guiding fifty six feet of heavy armored and armed steel boat weighing seventy seven tons at five knots exiting a narrow canal and entering a major river, the Song My Tho, in South Vietnam's Mekong Delta. The troop carrier, or Tango boat 91-74 as it was referred, was carrying a crew of seven and a platoon of ninth infantry grunts. The remainder of the crew were exiting from their respective gun positions. Jim Handerson, the Gunners Mate 2nd class was lifting himself from the upper 20mm cannon turret. Les Smith, the radioman, and Brian Janes, a boatwainmate striker, were standing in their adjoining .50 caliber turrets. The Engineman 3rd class Brian Wiley was down below trying to get one of the two 64HN9 Detroit Diesel's to run smoothly. He suspected water in the fuel and hoped for a bad fuel injector. The two Seaman deck hands, Javier Sanchez and John Wilson, were down below in the well deck securing their battle stations, the four .30 caliber Brownings, which were affixed to the gunnels of the Tango boat.

"Hey Boats", Wiley yelled up to the coxswain flat. The name "Boats" was moniker for," Boat Captain Boatswain Mate 2nd Class" . Zurco didn't answer. He was deep in thought about the shit his life had become. He should be playing college football right now for the Academy, instead of being on some polluted canal in Southeast Asia. He had the talent as a linebacker, but just not the luck or the family connections. He wanted Annapolis and got the rivers. To make matters worse, he received a "Dear John" letter two weeks ago and was still stewing about his girlfriend of 4 years, Jane, dumping him while he was away serving his country. She said they should date other people. He knew from other's experience that was an euphemism for I found someone else and have been sleeping with them on a regular basis. Her kiss off letter didn't really surprise him. The recent correspondence had been increasingly distant and questioning his participation in the war. She was a student at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, so he figured her attitude was related to that anti-war environment. He had started the response letter; not able to get past the greeting: "you bitch, who in the fuck am I supposed to date over here...." He knew that he would not become one of those "Dear John John Waynes" who volunteered for every suicide mission just to get the pain of rejection over with quickly; staying drunk seemed like a much better idea. Being drunk or badly hung over had pretty much been his waking state for the past two weeks. It was not improving his mood.

"Hey Boats", Handerson yelled toward the coxswain flat.

"What the fuck do you want", Zurco didn't appreciate being disturbed from his deep thoughts which took him away from this crew and this place.

"Wiley wants you, he's been yelling for you, maybe it's about the engine," the Gunners mate persisted as he aways did with matters between the Engineer and the Boat Captain, who didn't seem to have a real good chemistry going. Handerson, unlike the rest of the crew, had a couple of years of college behind him and through that experience learned to diplomatically navigate difficult relationships.

"What do you want Wiley", Zurco looked to the aft deck of the boat, where the 21 year old blond and thin as a rail Engineer had now positioned himself to better communicate to the Boat Captain. He had spent the past two hours down below in the engine room where it was 120 degrees and he was sopping wet standing on the aft section of the boat, the fantail.

"Port engine ain't gonna make it", Wiley yelled up to the coxswain flat. "We're gonna have to run back to Dong Tam on the starboard engine."

Zurco's thoughts drifted and he didn't respond immediately. When he did respond it wasn't to the immediate situation at hand. "Ya know Wiley it is a long standing tradition of Naval Sailors to imbibe in alcoholic drink. The wooden sailing ships of old were plied with rum rations for the crew and exploits of sailors on shore leave are well known."

Wiley knew and lived the story. More importantly he understood the Boat Captain. The tradition of the U.S. Navy in the 1960’s forbade the possession and consumption of alcohol on the vessels in the fleet, however, there were some exceptions on the mobile bases, and all shore installations provided well stocked Officers and Enlisted Men’s Clubs. In Southeast Asia and particularly in Viet Nam most bases possessed, at the very least, a club run by the U.S. Army to serve the troops; many had both an Army and Navy club...Officers and Enlisted Mens.

This was the case at a base located in South Vietnam’s Mekong Delta. Dong Tam was a joint Army/ Navy base located 45 miles southwest of Saigon in Dinh Tuong Province. A dubious distinction is that Dong Tam lay immediately northwest of the Song My Tho's {river}Thoi Son Island. To the combat troops in the area this was known as V.C. Island. From this parcel of land the Viet Cong produced mines and launched attacks on U.S. Naval Vessels. A Viet Cong sapper group received credit for planting two five hundred pound bombs under the starboard side of the USS Westchester County, a navy supply ship on the morning of November 1, 1968. The resulting explosion killed 25 of the crew, five U.S. Army Ninth Infantry soldiers, a Vietnamese Tiger Scout, and Vietnamese sailor in their sleep.

Wiley had vast experience in this area; a veteran of many combat operations during his two years in-country. To the immediate west was the Con Son and Ban long Secret Zone, where in the mid to late 60’s the U.S. Navy Assault Boats loaded with U.S. 9th Infantry and ARVN Infantry would knock on the door of this V.C. stronghold and announce they were taking over the neighborhood. The winding Rach Ba Rai {river}, in confluence to the Song My Tho, allowed the troops access deep into the Con Son area known as Snoopy’s Nose. This comic strip dog’s snout leapt into your mind as the area was viewed on a map or from the air. To a riverine sailor on the deck of an assault boat this area also looked of impending danger and nightmares. It would smell of cordite, diesel and death. The 9th infantry grunt found it to be all that and deep sinking mud, menacing punji sticks which could incapacitate infect and kill, impenetrable fortifications, leeches, jungle rot, and humping through some of the deadliest terrain in the delta. Snoopy Nose Veterans would recall the V.C. setting up on the land in the middle of Snoopy's upper nose, the backward bend in the river, springing an ambush only to have the river flotilla firing on friendly boats as they rounded blind bends in the river; a place where battles were not measured in hours but days. There were times when every boat -no matter the largest assault boat or the smallest Boston Whaler-in the riverine force was used to shuttle troops and ammunition from the supply ships on the Song My Tho up the winding Rach Ba Rai.

Kinh Xang Canal lies to the Eastern Border of this area and runs northwest of Dong Tam and is known as Rocket Alley due to heavy enemy contact for transiting Riverine Forces. Not since the American Civil War 100 years ago had the U.S. Navy been involved in this type of close up riverine warfare. Troops dreaded the oft repeated order from the commanders, "We're going back to Snoopy's Nose".

The Tango boat's position was ten miles west of Dong Tam and they would ride the current of the Song My Tho to reach the base. With one engine it would take four to five hours depending on the current, which was now flowing in their favor. The navy mission had already been aborted due to low water conditions on the canal they were to enter. There would be one boat accompanying them as escort, but the other boats on the operation would head back to the mobile base, anchored five miles east of Dong Tam. The escort boat was an Assault Support Patrol Boat(ASPB). She was six feet shorter in length, but carried no Army troops. The ASPB provided fast fire support to the other boats of the Riverine Force. She had 2 12V71 Detroit Diesels which could run the boat a maximum 16 knots. The crew of six was armed with twin .50 caliber, 20mm cannon, and 2 Mk-grenade launchers. Only problem being some of these boats sunk when they ran to maximum speed then backed all the way down on the power, as the wave created by the boat would wash up on the shallow aft deck and flood the compartments. That would not be a problem today, as they would be drifting at less than 5 knots with the Tango boat. Hopefully, they would not have to provide a tow; that just complicated driving these boats in the swift current of the Mekong river system. Tango boats were difficult to maneuver in the best of conditions, with one engine out Zurco was pleased they would be going to Dong Tam rather than docking at the mobile base. The current would not be a factor at Dong Tam and he would have plenty of room to avoid "bumper cars" and the embarrassment of most of the 91 Division crews watching his attempt to tie up to the floating ammis which constituted the floating mobile base. In Dong Tam the Tango crew would drop the Army platoon on the main dock. They would eventually be transited by choppers to the combat zone.

Wiley recalled being told that Dong Tam was an invention of U.S. Army Commanding General, William Westmoreland. In 1967 he needed to develop a terra firma area in the watery Mekong Delta to support his Ninth Infantry Division. When deciding on a name for this vacant rice paddy 5 miles west of My Tho, the general looked to his Saigon based translators at MACV for a name meaning unity, they came up the name Dong Tam; literally meaning, unified hearts and minds. To troops living on the base it could have easily meant place of snakes, dog sized rats, steaming sand, and constant Viet Cong attack.The base was also to be built up as a major shipping facility for South Vietnam. The base was one square mile in area....built up by the Corp of Engineers and possibly Viet Cong posing as innocent peasant workers -from river dredgings The base lay north of the main shipping channel of the Song My Tho. Boats transited a watery entrance having the approximate dimensions of a high school football field...60 yards wide, a 100 yards in length. Upon completion of the base and so typical of most areas in Vietnam the original villages were sealed off by concertina wire and declared off limits to U.S. Military personnel. Highway 4 was the one main road leading out of Dong Tam to Saigon... best traveled in heavily armed convoy. To keep Dong Tam Base secure it was necessary to run frequent riverine operations into this area.

Dong Tam Army/Navy base supported the artillery troops of the U.S. Ninth Infantry, U.S. Navy River Patrol Repair Facility, and several other classified small units. This pile of river bottom sand was also home to the Tango boat crew's unit which was the Mobile Riverine Force/River Assault Division I. They spent little time there as they lived on and patrolled the rivers of the Mekong Delta. Riverine mobile bases were self supporting with supplies and artillery, so they traveled hundreds of miles from the Dong Tam base in Dinh Tuong Province to areas of operation in Kien Hoa and Go Cong Provinces.

Zurco, from his own inner world, added, " when in the neighborhood, we find our way to the base and a little makeshift bar that was comfortably an all Navy Enlisted Men’s Club." For the past few weeks Zurco had been substituting Jim Beam for milk on his breakfast corn flakes and where he would get his next drink was constantly on his mind. Word has it when the base was built one of the first structures to go up was this hole in wall lean to type of building. It wasn't very large and at times felt like being in one of those cardboard refrigerator containers. Space limitations dictated most of the patrons remained outside.The E.M. Club, as it became known, was sandwiched between Navy barracks and a machine shop. Originally built by and frequented by Navy Seabees, it eventually became a hangout for mostly river crews or river rats as they became affectionately known. The Seabees had the unit logo of a an oversized black and yellow bumble bee holding a Tommie Gun and wearing a World War II style helmet. The River Crews’s logo was the comic book character, Biggy Rat holding an M-16 wearing a boonie hat on his head and a bandolier filled with ammo across his chest. They were painted on opposite sides of the outside door. The Riverine Sailor's occupation of the shack was a deperate act to be somewhere not surrounded by water. Base personnel didn’t feel the need to come and rub elbows with folks that didn’t shower that often and frequented the larger and more civilized Army club, which sometimes had one of those metallic off key sounding Asian Rock and Roll Bands flown in from Thailand, Taiwan, or Japan performing. It also had black tile floors compared with the Navy's wooden decking and a fully stocked bar with beer and whiskey; a juke box; and a bouncer in the form of an Army M.P.

Zurco was thinking, but kept the thoughts to himself, as he was the Boat Captain and didn't want to sabotage morale any more than already existed. He found a certain disconnect in the wisdom of The Command to offer a place for nineteen and twenty year old testosterone and adrenaline addled sailors whose career was to run cramped in gun turrets with fully loaded automatic weapons down small river living in pure terror of what lies around the bend in the river...to offer them unlimited quantities of alcohol to be drunk in the hot sun. He would reconcile those thoughts by figuring this is the same command that sent them down these small river, so felt that pretty much said it all. Usually it didn’t take very long at all for one of these sailors, just a couple of brewed and canned in 1955 Carlin Black Labels, in the 104 degree sun and standing on the dredged river sand with the sun and heat reflecting up like some kind of blow furnace in all it’s sweltering fury to start feeling just downright mean. To take that fear and that rage lying right beneath the surface and put it right out there on your sleeve. When that happened nothing was safe. It would start off with someone saying something innocent enough which usually just got blown off. In that oppressive heat with the golden black label flowing though your blood stream it just did not set well at all. Soon it would be fist a cuffs and drunken sailors like so many before would be off to the fights brawling bar room style. Busting up stuff and each other. Then as quick as it started it would be over...no Shore Patrol...no Military Police to break it up..it would...just..be over..then men back to drinking and laughing. The Ninth Infantry at Dong Tam had an artillery unit, which often would be firing barrages while the navy party was in full motion.Those shells were heading out toward the Viet Cong who felt the need to fire rockets and mortars in return. Often it was the other way around. The V.C. would start it and the Arty Guys would try to finish it. This was not a rare occurrence. In fact in the middle of the night as they lay fast asleep on their base anchored in the middle of the river they would get caught in these little disputes between Charlie and the Ninth Infantry Artillery boys. This loud and chaotic interaction would result in a scramble the boats alert. Boats would scramble and position for fire missions in the total darkness of the night and trying like hell to get out of the intersecting fields of fire..sometimes they wouldn’t move fast enough and get barraged by either Charlie or “friendly fire”.When on shore and in the middle of the day when these artillery interchanges took place the crews would usually retreat to sandbagged bunkers until the firing died down, then like the river rats they were would slink out of those darkened tunnels and slither up to the watering hole for their next round of flat, warm swill.

"Ya know", Handerson, the philosopher and poet laureate of the crew re-entered the conversation,"while on month long patrols in the GoCong and Kien Hoa Provinces the Riverines would long for returning to the Dong Tam E.M. Club, and meet with fellow travelers who had been on operations elsewhere. It was a time to catch up on who was still around, who had been killed or wounded, or for just back in the world. We cherish those times like nothing else in this small piece of hell. Often you would have the most personal conversations with someone you just met. You were so totally focused on the same reality...the war..the experience..the waterways..the machinery and mechanics of this war. It was like you could be having this conversation with someone and pick it up where you left off with someone else. You would share much with someone and then never see them again...occasionally wondering what became of them....did they survive..make it back to the world..did they die alone in some rice paddy...what...when..where...what for?"

The crew within earshot mulled what Handerson had to say, but did not respond.

"There were times they reunited with guys they went to school with from the same home towns or met guys from the same state." Henderson continued not certain nor caring whether anyone was listening.

Zurco, who was from Green Bay, Wisconsin, not participating in the conversation at this time thought it seemed like the population of the whole damned state was there with him on the rivers. Sometimes the guys from Wisconsin would fight with the guys from Illinois over the Packers and the Bears. That's the way it was with Zurco and Wiley. Zurco from Wisconsin and Wiley from Chicago with a natural rivalry of professional football teams, geography, culture and lifestyle. When the alcohol went down the gloves came off and there was no navy, rank, or boat crew, just the two of them fighting one another in the sand. "Mainly, the crews just enjoyed themselves the best they could under the circumstances...laughed as much as they could...and cried when they drank too much", Wiley mused.

Sanchez who had been listening to the conversation from a standing position next to Wilson on the outboard starboard side of the coxswain flat whispered out of earshot from the Grunts,"We wear the standard army jungle fatigues and boots. It is all Army issue and there being a long standing tradition of Army and Navy rivalry, often we got the short end of the deal. So, when at the base, after visiting the club for awhile several drunk sailors would sneak in the back way of the Army supply shack and requisition -oh a couple hundred or so new sets of jungle fatigues and boots. These were new fatigues, not the second hand one the Army gave us, which usually had several holes in places that you just didn’t want to think about and made you a bit uncomfortable."

Wilson nodded to the affirmative, recalling his sojourn into the supply shack and wondering if Sanchez was so drunk that night he did not recall they had been together on the raid.

He recalled how they would, occasionally, during a rocket attack just slip quickly away from the base on the boat and enjoy the peace and quiet of the dark night and mysterious river. Listening only to the reliable hum and rumble of the boat’s diesel engines as the sound of the firing barrage receded in the distant night.
The crew, to a man, was anticipating the excitement of getting to the base and drinking some cold beer. The early morning temperature was already climbing to the high 90's with the promise of oppressive heat and humidity. The engine repair would probably take several days. Two or so days of unscheduled in country R&R would be a real treat.

Conversation aboard the boat had ceased as each man was thinking about the break from action which awaited them in Dong Tam.

The Radioman , Smith decided to tune in the AM radio and listen to Armed Forces Radio Vietnam (AFVN) as they drifted into Dong Tam. The crew really enjoyed listening to the music of The Doors and the Animals. He thought the all time favorite song was We Gotta Get Outa This Place. There was not music this morning as D.J. Specialist 4th Class Bruce Dadd was announcing the death of IKE, the former U.S. President, General Dwight Eisenhower. Handerson started to comment on the military industrial complex which inevitably only he would understand the meaning of how this related to IKE. Smith was moving to turn the AM radio off and fire up his tape player, which contained many of the songs AFVN didn't or couldn't play, when the AN/VRC 46 boat radio started to hum with radio traffic. He tuned the squelch and the volume up to better understand what was being said and he realized the 74 boat call sign was being repeated by Dong Tam Naval Detachment. " Dragonfly Tango 74...Dragonfly Tango 74 this is Whiskey Boxer over."

Zurco picked up the mike responding, " Whiskey Boxer...Whiskey Boxer....this is Dragonfly Tango 74 over..."

"Dragonly Tango 74 this is Whiskey Boxer..interrogative on your intentions for today over", the Dong Tam operator responded.

"Whiskey Boxer this is Dragonfly Tango 74, my intent is to dock for repair in several hours over," Zurco replied, puzzled as to why he was being called. It was a fairly ordinary event to go into Dong Tam and did not require clearance.

"Dragonfly Tango 74 be advised that Dong Tam suffered catastrophic loss early this morning. This is Whiskey Boxer out." It appeared the Dong Tam operator was having a difficult time holding himself together to talk and just wanted to end the radio transmission.

The crew would learn from monitoring radio traffic that about 2 a.m., the usual time for incoming at Dong Tam, nobody knew much about the details, Charlie was real busy and launched a murderous bombardment of rockets and mortars onto the base. He hit the ammo dump. The explosion and ensuing concussion was so tremendous that it took down a chopper flying in the vicinity. The crew looked toward Dong Tam and saw that the black smoke from the ammo dump could be seen for miles. That was bad enough but they also came to understand their little E.M. Club took a direct hit. as did several other clubs and the base liquor store. There were several personnel on the navy side of the base killed and wounded. Their little E.M. Club was no more. A radio operator from the mobile base broadcasting the news speculated this event caused a hush thoughout the river division, as though an old friend had died. Soon the scuttlebutt spread that Charlie did it on purpose, his sole purpose for the raid that night was to blow up the club. It was an act of psychological warfare they were told. Most believed that to be the truth.

Handerson, now standing close to Wiley on the fantail, was visibly shaken. Two good buddies of his were stationed at the Dong Tam navy side; he worried about their welfare.

Wiley, having trouble comprehending this evolving situation muttered to Handerson, "I don't think Boat's mood is going to improve anytime soon."

Zurco was staring off into the distance at nothing in particular as Dragonfly Tango 74 drifted aimlessly with the current. MUSIC Roadhouse Blues,The Doors.