LETTERS HOME--31 THROUGH 40
Letter #31
22 Jan 69
Hi everyone,
Well I've received a lot of mail from you. I also received my package.
It was great and those "pills" came in handy. You might as well start
another one; and if you could, send me some "Instamatic 124" film. I can
borrow my buddy's camera and get some flicks for ya.
I hope you received the paper I sent you about Operation Taylor
Common.
I also received the pictures of Cheryl's new car and one of Bobby.
I've got them wrapped in plastic so the rain won't wreck them.
Well got to go for now, but at least you know I'm alive.
Love, Paul
*******************************************************************
Looking back:
"Pills"... This was a term my father used in his letters. A "Pill" to him
was a mixed drink, Old Thompsons in ginger. In many of the letters he
wrote to me he would say, "I'm having a few pills while I sit and write
this letter."
The "Pills" I continued to get in the packages were pre-mixed drinks in
cans. My father always put two of these drinks in a package, usually
whiskey sours.
... I think it was around this time that, one afternoon late, the word
was passed that a resupply helicopter had lost its external supply load which
consisted of crates of C4 explosive. 1st platoon was told to "saddle up" and
prepare to be flown by helicopter into the mountains to recover the C4
that, if it got into the hands of the NVA, would help make many booby
traps.
I remember staring out the windows of the helicopter and seeing
nothing but thick jungle cover over an endless view of mountain peaks and
ravines. I had no idea how we would ever find a place to land but we did.
As the helicopter descended in a steep, banking dive, a clearing came into
view. And, as we neared the ground, both door gunners opened fire with
their machine guns which scared the living crap out of us grunts. We
thought for sure we had landed in a hot LZ; but, after we ran from the
helicopter and formed a perimeter in the edge of the jungle clearing, we
were told that the machine gun fire had only been precautionary, "recon by
fire."
We only had to go a little ways from the clearing to find the C4. Most
of the crates were still in tact. We were told that if we gathered all of the
crates in a hurry and prepared them to be placed in the cargo net we had with
us, the helicopter would be back for the C4 and us Marines. Sounded good.
We worked feverishly at gathering all the C4 scattered in the jungle. Even
climbed trees to cut the old cargo net to get it down out of the trees. With
our job done, we sat near the clearing waiting for the helicopter; but the word
came to us that we would spend the night in the jungle and be flown out in
the morning. Again, we were only a platoon; and we were all alone in a
massive jungle. The enemy could easily out number us.
Fortunately nothing happened during the night. The next morning the
helicopter came, but the plans had changed again. The new plan was that
the C4 would be lifted out, but we were to patrol back by foot to Mike Co.
I remember that for most of the way, we followed a stream that in some
places was no more than a puddle and in other places was up to our arm
pits. When we got back to the company, we found ourselves infested with
leeches, many in our groin area. We had to burn them off of each other with
cigarettes. 1st platoon was not a happy bunch of Marines that day.
Paul O'Connell
December1996
Letter #32
24 Jan 69
Dear Family!!!
Right now it's about 7:30 in the morning. I had last watch from 5:30
to 7:30. It isn't getting dark until around 7:15 at night compared to back in
October when it was dark at 6:00.
In the last two days, we have discovered an enemy base camp. There
was only one NVA left behind and two NVA girls. We had to kill the guy
and one girl. We completely destroyed the base camp and brought the girl in
as a POW.
If you send me that "124" film, you'll have to enclose some stamps,
as it cost 20 cents to send the film home. You can take the money out of
the bank for the film and stamps.
We are moving again tomorrow to Hill 226. They say this should be
the end of Operation Taylor Common. Then we will go back to An Hoa for a
rest, I hope. My red pen just quit on me. I guess it needs an R&R. So do I!
Well got to go, but I'll write from 226.
Love Paul
*******************************************************************
Looking back:
The following is a story I wrote, back in the summer of 1991, after having
returned to Vietnam in 1990. The story is about the enemy base camp
mentioned in the letter. Even to this day, I have vivid memories of both the
place and the happenings. Both can seem surrealistic at times; and yet, I
know these things happened back then.
"The Enemy Rest Camp" --
Shortly after Christmas, high in the mountains, beneath a mosaic
of green, triple-thick canopy, we came upon bamboo huts built up on stilts
with thatched roofs, scattered along one of the most beautiful mountain
streams, fed by an underground spring. The ingenuity of those who had
built such a camp held me in awe, as my eyes followed the long lengths of
bamboo split the long way, and followed the flow of water within the bamboo
aqueducts which connected each hut with a constant supply of fresh
running water. One had to see it to believe. The sight was right out of Swiss
Family Robinson or some other fantasy.
And there were pigs, forty or more, miles from their natural habitat,
roaming loose through the mountain camp. How and who had herded the
pigs so far and so high into the mountains? This was the question asked.
Our North Vietnamese defector, the Kit Carson scout, said we were in an
enemy-base rest camp, large enough to sleep hundreds; and, although the
place appeared empty except for the pigs, there most likely had been
someone left behind to care for the camp.
A search of the huts exposed no one, but what was discovered
hanging in most were hand-crafted bird cages made from match stick thin
pieces of bamboo held together by short lengths of tough jungle vine. And
yet, there were no birds held captive.
Caves were discovered, some natural, some tunneled by hand; and
our tunnel rats went to work. Many caves had huge, oversized bamboo
baskets filled to the brim with tons of uncooked rice. One cave had
hundreds and hundreds of small cans, red in color, with Chinese writing
imprinted upon them. Inside the cans was the worst smelling fish I had ever
smelt. Another cave was filled with five hundred or more pairs of black
pajamas and Ho Chi Minh sandals and another with well-seasoned caldrons
and other metal pots.
One cave Dillon crawled into on his hands and knees had life in it.
He later told us, after the sun set and we sipped hot instant coffee from
our canteen cups, how everything seemed to happen so fast, how he heard the
drip of water. The drip of water and a sigh. Someone catching their breath.
And then just the drip of water again until the infrared-tinted beam from
his hand-held flashlight shined on two eyes in the dark and two more eyes
and how the four eyes were mesmerized like animals poached in the night.
And, as it always seems, the world stopped, stared, then spun faster
than ever to catch up to time. As the eyes moved towards a rifle just out
of arms' reach, Dillon said he fired his raised forty-five, nearly shattering
his own eardrums. To us outside, being entertained by the two monkeys
swinging in the trees like Tarzans, the shots sounded like explosions deep
inside a West Virginia coal mine.
Minutes later, two bodies were dragged out into the faint light of day,
onto a worn flat slab of a rock -- the body of a girl with her mid-section,
intestines everywhere, blown wide apart and a North Vietnamese colonel,
possibly her lover, shot straight between the eyes. In the late afternoon, we
corralled the pigs and shot them all dead. The next day we watched from a
distance, from a mountain top off to the east, as the jets bombed the hell
out of the camp.
Paul O'Connell
January 1997
Letter #33
31 Jan 69
Dear everybody!!!
Received mail yesterday and got 6 letters from you, 2 from Sharon,
and one from Bobby.
We moved again today, but would you believe we are on the low
lands? It's like being in heaven after the mountains. But, in two or three
days, we'll be back in the mountains.
I've enclosed a picture. Don't worry about the bandage, it's only
covering up a minor gook sore. I hope you like the picture.
Steve must be at the Great Lakes freezing. If you can get his address,
give it to me. Tell him not to become a corpsman because he'll come to
Vietnam and be with the grunts.
Well, got to go for now; but I'm still alive. I might look different in the
picture, but that's because of the strain that's on you over here.
Well, no worry!!!
Love, Paul
*******************************************************************
Looking back:
The mountains were a constant up and down, an awful grueling "hump," day
in, day out. Often we slept with out feet up against a tree trunk; otherwise,
we would have slipped right down the side of the mountain in our sleep.
The jungle was thick; we seldom got to see the sun, even on days that it
shined high overhead above the jungle canopy. Everything was damp and
wet. We constantly battled land leeches and mosquitoes and feared the
NVA that once again had alluded us but left enough signs that the scouts
constantly said we were on the trail of thousands. Deep inside, I know I was
scared out of my wits. Who wouldn't be?
I remember us going back down into what I called the lowlands. Actually it
was what we were told was Highway 14 or QL14. We would patrol this
area for a week or so, traveling very light. We didn't even have our packs
with us. Just our weapons, poncho and poncho liners, cartridge belts, and
bandoleers of ammo. Our packs had been collected and placed in a cargo
net and flown out by helicopter. We were, in a sense, a company-size recon
unit now; and we only had two meals a day, which were LongRats - freeze
dried food, light weight to carry but filling. Yet, two meals a day was not
enough for the "humping" we were doing.
The picture... The picture was of me cradling an M60 machine gun. I looked
12 in the picture. I had tape around one of my wrists which had been
infested with gook sores. In the background was the river that supposedly
separated Vietnam from Laos. To this day, my sister Cheryl says she cries
when she sees this picture of me because I was so young when it was
taken. When I look at the picture, I feel nothing; I have trouble even
thinking that it is me who is in the picture.
Steve... Again, Steve is my cousin who now had joined the Navy.
Paul O'Connell
January 1997
Letter #34
5 Feb 69
Dear family!
We just finished a 12-mile sweep of the Laos border, and we are now
on Hill 305. The big Generals haven't decided when they are gonna end this
operation, but they better hurry because we are all getting pretty tired. Kilo
company has really had it bad, as 6 men drowned yesterday; and they got
pinned down today and took 8 more killed and over 30 wounded. But Mike
Company is doing pretty good.
I have enclosed some pictures taken on Hill 500 of me and my buddy,
Pellman. I'm also gonna send back the other pictures as they are starting to
fade. They were great!
On my next package, could you send some more booze, some devil
dogs, a small jar of coffee or packets, a small jar of Nestles hot cocoa,
small bottle of hot sauce, canned pudding (butterscotch), one sponge cake with
canned frosting (milk chocolate), and etc. I hope it ain't too much.
Getting back to the pictures; notice how skinny I am? I'll gain the
weight when I get home. Also notice my tattoo? I've got two now.
Well, got to go as I've got to write Sharon, Bobby, and "???" from
California. It's some girl I met from Riverside, up near L.A.
Love ya all,
Paul
*******************************************************************
Looking back:
We had traveled southwest along Highway 14 over a two or three
day period. We saw the remains of old concrete bunkers and watch towers
that had been built by the French. We came upon an old, rusting
bulldozer, also from the French days.
Before being on Highway 14, when I heard the word "highway," I
envisioned a four-lane (maybe just a two-lane) highway. At best, Highway
14 was an overgrown jungle trail that followed the Son Vu Gia (Vu Gia
River).
On several occasions, our point element saw NVA on the other side of
the Vu Gia. The sniper team would be called up while the rest of us rested
in column along the trail. We would then hear the crack of rifle fire from
the snipers and then wait to hear whether they had come up with a confirmed
kill. It seemed that most of the time, we never heard anything definite. Some
guys would say that the snipers had killed the NVA and other guys would
say that they had missed. We never seemed to get straight scoop.
One day, along the trail, we found some caves; and inside one of the
caves was more than 100 bicycle frames -- no rims and no tires, just frames.
And along a lot of the trail, the NVA had cut pieces of bamboo (maybe
about 2-3 ft in length) and laid them perpendicular, one up against the next,
to make the trail an "all-weather" trail. I was always intrigued by such
ingenuity...
The Vu Gia flowed at a very rapid speed. I remember the river varied
in width. I remember when we heard about the Marines from Kilo Company
drowning. They were crossing the Vu Gia with their packs on and
supposedly got carried away by the current. I remember hearing all sorts of
rumors about this. Some said their bodies had been recovered while others
had said just the opposite, that their bodies were long gone. All we knew
was that the word was being passed around that Mike Company was going
to cross the Vu Gia also...
Pellman was a buddy of mine from New Hampshire. We had gone
through ITR together and all the other training prior to Vietnam. He had
taken pictures on Hill 500, sent the film home to get it developed; and when
his family sent the developed pictures back to him, he gave me one that had
him and me standing next to each other along one of the trails we had cut on
Hill 500. The two of us looked like skin and bones.
I was jealous of Pellman in a strange way because he was with a
different platoon, and the platoon he was with always seemed to see the
action. What a thing to be jealous about. I remember the day his platoon got
ambushed, and the pointman got shot through the head. The word was
passed that this platoon was coming back into the perimeter and needed
help with their KIA, so I volunteered to go and help them carry him to
the LZ; and when I got to them, Pellman was there. He had been in the
point element when it had gotten ambushed.
I remembering asking him all sorts of question about what it was like to
be caught in an ambush and what they did. I remember all he really said
was that there was one short burst of AK fire, and the pointman went down;
and he and a few others dragged the body of the KIA off the trail. "You
didn't get to shoot back?"
"At what?" Pellman said. "We never saw a thing."
That is what the NVA and the mountains were all about. We never
got to see a thing, but at night we could smell the NVA's fires. Cooking
odors. There was a SSgt in Mike Company who use to say, "I can smell the
'Rag Man' a million miles away."
He use to call the NVA the "Rag Man" or "Luke The Gook." At first,
most of us couldn't pick up the scent that the SSgt was smelling; but, as
time went on, at night, we all could smell the enemy...
Another package, please. "Please keep me alive" is what I was saying.
"Send me life."
The girl from Riverside? I had met a girl from Riverside when I was in
California and had suffered from "love at first sight," yet I never got her
address. So, she was nothing more than a fantasy; and I needed fantasy to
cope with the reality that was happening all around.
As for Sharon, my girlfriend, I think it was about this time that the
end was to begin...
Paul O'Connell
January 1997
Letter #35
7 Feb 69
Dear Family,
MEAL, COMBAT, INDIVIDUAL
BEEF, W/Spiced Sauce
B-1A UNIT
As you can see, I've enclosed another flap off my breakfast. It wasn't too
bad as there were two chocolate wafers and one can of peaches with it.
Plus, I made a cup of "comoffee." It's made like coffee except you add a
packet of cocoa. It's pretty tricky to make at first because ya gotta put in
the right proportions, but I'm the best "comoffee" maker in my squad.
Yesterday was a real cheerful day for us; in the morning around 11:00, the
choppers brought in hot chow for all of us to have two helpings. We had
steak, potatoes, green beans, gravy, bread, and chocolate milk. It was the
first hot chow since Christmas.
Then, at 1:00 pm, they brought in assorted accessories like potato sticks,
corn twist, cigarettes, combs, mirrors, toothpaste, writing gear, socks,
T-shirts, Bibles, and even little pen-light flashlights. Everybody pretty well
got their share of the above.
To top it off, at 4:00 pm, another chopper came in with beer and soda;
cakes; and would you believe, ice cream? Well, they did. They brought
enough ice cream in so everybody got two hoodsies. They had it packed in
dry ice. Plus, we all got a piece of cake and one beer and one Pepsi. So,
yesterday was pretty good.
This morning everybody woke up with the shits. Pardon my language!
Now, I'm gonna write a little bit to everybody:
Tommy... It seems like every day you're getting stitches. You better be
more careful. When I get home, I'm thinking about buying a new drum set so
we can really find out how good we are. I still have the drum sticks that
were sent to me and have really learned a lot of new beats and made up
some of my own. Every once in awhile, I put on a show for the guys and
play on tin cans. So be good and try and stay out of trouble.
Marsha... Well, I heard you've become a pretty good driver. I hope you get
your license in the near future. When you do, be careful; and don't take after
me. Remember the speeding ticket and the accident with the good old
Mustang? Let this be an example for you to drive safely. Maybe when I buy
my new car, I'll let you drive it; but it might be difficult with the big
engine and 4-speed.
Cheryl... Well, I received a letter from Bobby the other day and wrote him
yesterday. There can't be too much worry with him, as war games ain't
quite as dangerous as the "War Games" (huh!) I'm participating in. I hope
you like your new job as the money ($$) sounds real good.
Mama & Dad... Well, I've also enclosed one dollar that we use over here.
It's not gook money but a military payment certificate (MPC).
I want you to draw $25 out of my bank account and give each of the
kids $5 and you people $10. Make sure you do it!!!! The reason is for GP
(General Principles). They use that expression a lot over here.
I should know in about a week when I'll be going on R&R. When I find out,
I'll have you send me most of my money. Then I'll start saving again. I say
you only live once, so I'll probably spend every last penny.
Well, got to go for now; but I'll write later.
Love, Paul
*******************************************************************
Looking back:
I had enclosed the cardboard flap from my C-Ration box. I still have it today
with my letters.
I still remember this particular day in Vietnam that I wrote about. All the
goodies and supplies. And I remember having the feeling like we were being
fattened up for the kill. Maybe this is why I wrote such an extensive letter.
Paul O'Connell
1997
Letter #36
16 Feb 69
Dear Family,
Well, I've finally found a chance to write. I've received a lot of mail in
the past week but haven't received the magazines you said you mailed.
Well, I've finally got a chance to rest. Mike Company has moved to
Hill 508 where there is a huge artillery battery. But check this out. There
are twelve men from Mike Company plus 16 from Lima Company on top of Hill
1081. We are the only ones up here. The NVA can't touch us because of
the way the mountain is. The only way you can get up here is by chopper.
Here's a drawing of the mountain. We are where the "X" is.
Well, R&R comes out in 5 days. Sure hope I get one so I can sleep for
awhile.
We are supposed to go into An Hoa pretty soon, but they've been
saying that for months.
Well, got to go for now; but at least you know I'm still alive.
Love,
Paul
PS Haven't received the "Quincy Sun" for about a month.
*******************************************************************
Looking back:
Nine days had passed since I had last had a chance to write a letter that
would find its way out of Vietnam. I found no reason to write if I thought
the letter wasn't going to get back to the "world." Besides, if we were
captured, we didn't want to have any letters in our packs. Because of this, I
burnt the mail I received from home after I read the letters over and
over...
The magazines I hadn't received were back in An Hoa. The Marine in charge
of the mail kept them for himself -- my Playboys. I would discover this when I
got back to the rear and found Playboys on the mail clerk's desk. The Playboys
still had the mailing labels on them with my name. I wanted to shoot
the mail clerk but others kept me from him...
In the nine days that passed after our feast in the jungle, we crossed the Vu
Gia again to get back on Highway 14. This second crossing was done at a
narrow part of the river by going across by rope, like the "slide for
life" at Parris Island. A Marine from Hawaii was the one who swam across
the rapidly flowing river to get the rope to the other side and tie it off to
a tree. I remember he was carried quite a ways down stream before he got to
the other shore.
The crossing took all day. While we waited for our chance to cross (only
one man crossed at a time; what a target for the NVA, a Marine dangling
from a rope), we took turns providing security for the crossing and for
each other while we bathed in the river. It always felt good to get squeaky
clean, yet it never seemed to last for more than a few minutes...
I walked point for Mike Company when we came back up Highway 14. I no
longer was carrying the PRC25 radio. I was probably frightened out of my
mind yet didn't let that get in the way of staying alert. I remember walking
at a very quick pace along the trail. Maybe I thought I could survive the
point by coming up on the enemy real quick. Or, maybe I was so nervous
that I had no say over my pace. Even to this day, having walked point for
12 "clicks" on Highway 14 is one of my claims to fame...
I guess we had chanced fate and won. The patrols all up and down
Highway 14, two river crossings, and my walking point back up Highway 14
to Hill 508 produced no casualties for Mike Company, but that was going
to change in time...
I spent one night on Hill 508, which was known as LZ Maxwell and had
an artillery battery on top. When we arrived on top of LZ Maxwell and
relieved what other company had been providing security for the artillery
battery, we were starved. I remember the artillerymen watching
us grunts eat C-rations like we were savages. Can after can after can.
Mixing all types of food together. And they watched us guzzle down all
sorts of water. It was so good to be in a place us grunts considered to be a
safe haven...
The day after arriving at LZ Maxwell, 12 Marines from Mike Company were
told they were going to be lifted by helicopter to Hill 1081 known as "Table
Top" or "Parker Pen Relay;" because on top of Hill 1081 was a radio
relay station. I was one of those chosen. I didn't know at that time that
I had really been chosen to survive Vietnam because many of those from my
squad and platoon who remained back at LZ Maxwell would be dead two
weeks later.
Yes, surviving Vietnam had so much to do with nothing more than fate.
Myself and Marines I remember by name, as Reed and Calder, and
another Black Marine I can see in my mind but can't remember his name,
would live to make it home, while Sergeant Thompson, Corporal Johnston,
Merriweather, Christianson, Freeman, and others, whose names I either
didn't know in the beginning or have lost in time, would die in the
jungle...
Hill 1081... I etched a diagram of Hill 1081 on a piece of paper for my
family to see. It really was a "table top"-type mountain. We really did
believe that no one other than us that arrived could get to the top of
Hill 1081 because of the shear cliffs on all four sides that rose up from
the lower mountains below us. On clear days, we had a panoramic view of
all the mountains between Laos and the lowlands leading to Da Nang. We
also had a great view of LZ Maxwell and the hills surrounding it that
would become infested with NVA...
Paul O'Connell
January 1997
Letter #37
18 Feb 69
Dear everybody!!
Well, today I received the newspaper about the snow storm. I wish I
could have been there. It's really starting to get hot over here; but being up
on this hill, it really gets cold at night.
Last night was Tet eve. To the Vietnamese it's like New Year's eve.
They get drunk and smoke pot, then go out and raise hell. I haven't heard if
anybody got hit last night, but we could see all the villages lit up.
Today, we got resupplied. We got C-rations, fruit juices, candy, beer &
soda, eggs, potatoes, chocolate milk, onions, catsup, cigarettes, and writing
gear. Tomorrow we are getting sleeping jackets which are actually Banlon
shirts, so we are pretty well set.
I was wondering if you could send me a transistor radio. It doesn't
have to be anything too expensive. They have station AFVN -- Armed Forces
Vietnam, and they play pretty good music. Plus, send some extra batteries as
they are hard to get over here. I want you to buy it with my money.
Well people, got to go hard boil some eggs for tonight. I'll write
tomorrow.
Love ya all,
Paul
*******************************************************************
Looking back:
On the day I wrote this letter, I had been in the Marine Corps one whole
year and hadn't seen snow since the day I had left for Parris Island...
Some people are not aware that there was some sort of a Tet Offensive in
1969. It might not have been as dramatic as the Tet of 1968; but for those
of us in Vietnam, we would be subjected to an increase in enemy activity. I
get mad sometimes when I look at a history book on the Vietnam War and
don't see much about what went on for fighting after the Tet of 1968.
Unfortunately, a lot of fighting went on and a lot more dying...
Often, Hill 1081 had blue sky and a bright sun shining down upon it, while
the mountains around us of lower elevation would be cloud covered.
Because of this, when the resupply helicopters couldn't descend into the
clouds and deliver their external sling load of supplies, instead of taking
the supplies back to An Hoa or Da Nang, they would climb up through the
clouds and into the blue sky and drop the supplies with us. We were having
a feast on top of Hill 1081 while those below us were starving again
because of the weather...
I remember it was so cold on Hill 1081 and we were so high up in
the mountains that there were no mosquitoes. What a blessing! No
mosquitoes and no having to douse ourselves with "bug juice," insect
repellent that burnt our skin when it got on sensitive parts...
I remember the nice Banlon shirts sent out to us. They kept us warm
at night and made me think about home because I use to wear Banlon shirts
all the time before I joined the Marines...
I think I wanted a transistor radio because up on Hill 1081, the radio
reception was unbelievable. In fact, we often would go inside the radio
shack of Parker Pen Relay and listen to what was going on in Vietnam. This
relay station seemed to know what was going on in the entire country...
Hard boiled eggs... We had eggs coming out of our ears. In fact, I think
one day we even had an egg fight...
Paul O'Connell
January 1997
Letter #38
19 Feb 69
Dear everybody!!!!
I'm in a pretty good mood today as I've finally got an R&R. The two
choices that came up were Okinawa and Hawaii. I took Hawaii. Everybody
says even if you're not married, you can have a lot of fun there. Plus, after
four months in country, I'd go almost anywhere. You can't even imagine the
strain this war puts on ya.
This is what you'll have to do for me. I want you to send $400 of
my money to me by a money order that has to be obtained in a post office
so I can cash it in An Hoa. My R&R is from March 25-31, so I want you to
mail the money on the 12th of March. I'll come out of the field about the
21st of March and go into Da Nang about the 23rd. I figure if you send the
money order the 12th, I should have it by the 18th.
I won't be sending money home this month as I'll put that check
towards R&R also. That will give me about $540. It might seem crazy to
spend all this money, but look at it this way ... when will I ever get a
chance to go to Hawaii; plus, anybody who's been through what a Marine goes
through deserves to go somewhere and have a good time.
I'll write tomorrow.
Love, Paul
*******************************************************************
Looking back:
My father would write back to me how I should be careful with my money.
Letter after letter after letter would be about how I could have my money
stolen or loose it. It would almost seem like I was living back at home
having him harp on and on.
I think I remember that, originally, these R&Rs belonged to other Marines; but
they were either killed or wounded or for what other reasons were not able
to go on R&R. Although neither Okinawa nor Hawaii were places I really
wanted to go to, like I said in the letter "I'd go almost anywhere." Yes,
just the thoughts of getting out of Vietnam was an R&R in its own little way.
(Actually, I wanted to go to Australia; but guys with more than four months
in country were getting the choice to go to Australia. Many wanted to go to
Australia because the girls were "round eyes.")
Paul O'Connell
1997
Letter #39
23 Feb 69
Hi everybody!!!
I'm sure glad I'm still on Hill 1081. Last night, the NVA started their
Tet offensive. They hit An Hoa, and we heard over the radio that the enemy
made it across the runway and blew up an ammo dump. They also hit the
main part of Mike Company and also Kilo, Lima, and India. We heard
they hit Da Nang and Saigon. So, if you read anything in the newspaper
about those things; don't worry, as I wasn't involved. I'm still in perfect
health and unscratched.
Well, got to go for now.
Love, Paul
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Looking back:
Again, with the "Parker Pen" radio relay station on top of Hill 1081 (also
known as LZ Dagger), we were able to learn all sorts of what was going on
in Vietnam. It seemed like every place in Vietnam had been attacked except
for us on top of Hill 1081. It reinforced in our heads that, no way could the
enemy get to us.
I remember we heard over the radio that Mike Company on LZ Maxwell had
been mortared during the night and that the NVA had probed the defensive
perimeter.
I was just so glad to still be alive.
Paul O'Connell
January 1997
Letter #40
26 Feb 69
Hi everybody!!!
Ya probably all wondering why you haven't heard from me. Well, as
you've probably heard, the gooks have been hitting all allied bases; so this
kind of keeps the choppers out of the sky. Plus, we have been fogged in up
here on Hill 1081.
Well, Mike Company on Hill 508, has been under heavy mortar and
ground attacks for the last four days. Every time a chopper tries to get in
there, the gooks mortar the LZ. The gooks have hit every Marine unit in this
area except for us up here. Like I said before, we are up too high for
mortars, rockets, and etc. So don't worry.
I haven't received any mail in the last 9 days; but, when things
cool off, they'll get it out to us. Right now there are air strikes going on
down in the valley. The gooks are actually only 500 yards away down in the
valley.
Yesterday, we all sat on the cliff and watched Mike Company on
Hill 508 get mortared. They have run about 17 air strikes in the last
three days, and the gooks are still down there. The bombs from the jets
make holes about 100x100x100. I can't figure why they haven't got rid of
the gooks, but maybe they haven't hit the right place.
I've only got about 3 weeks before I go to Hawaii. I can't wait
because every night one of my buddies tells me of all the fun he had and
the places to go.
Right now, I'm in need of a bad haircut as it's over my ears by about a
half inch. It's almost like old civilian times. They'll make me cut it before
I leave for R&R. I also got athletes feet on the right foot. The itching is
driving me crazy, but all I can do for it is put foot powder on it. Other than
that and being a little bit dirty, I'm in excellent condition.
Got to be signing off for now, but I'll write later on. May God bless
you all!
Love, Paul
PS. Call Sharon, and read her this letter as I haven't time to write. Tell
her I love her!
*******************************************************************
Looking back:
There was a feeling inside that I should be with the rest of Mike Company
instead of up on top of Hill 1081, despite the fact men were being killed and
wounded there. And yet, I also was glad I was right where I was in what
seemed to be a safe place. We still believed no way could the enemy get to
us. Hell, he would have had to be some sort of superhuman to scale the
sides of Hill 1081.
I remember the birds-eye view of the war going on beneath us. We would
sit on the edge of Hill 1081 and drink coffee and watch the jets scream
towards earth, then jettison their bombs and then climb back up nearly
straight like a rocket. And then, every once in awhile, we would go to the
radio shack and ask what the latest news was from Mike Company. We
would hear of guys being killed and wounded and how the NVA continued
to fight despite the heavy bombing.
Paul O'Connell
January 1997
Copyright © 1996 & 1997 By Paul O'Connell, All Rights Reserved
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