Apocalypse Then Vietnam Stories

Phu Lam Vietnam, 1971
It happens occasionally. Someone decides to clean out the garage or that dresser drawer that's been collecting junk for decades. They run across a small stack of photos, faded now, shot in a once dangerous part of the world, now another handful of worn survivors who were lucky enough to make it out to tell the tale. The photos below were kindly contributed to my Vietnam collection by Howard Hickman and John Marecki who attended my performance at the Phu Lam signal station just outside of Saigon. They whooped it up and so did I. You can tell from our expressions that we were all having a special time, escaping for a moment from the reality of a war that never should have been.

Here you can see two of my Philippino band, all in identical shirts.
My conductor was a New Zealander named Bobby Bennett.

Takin' it right down to the boys in front!

Shakin' that booty while the boys are rockin'!
(Those heads in the foreground make this look like
Mystery Science Theater 3000.)

Singing a sweet ballad.

I always bring someone onstage to sing with me.
Here I'm in the arms of the handsome commanding officer at Phu Lam, LTC Tourtillott.

Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. I made it back alive, but in bad shape after being medevaced from Saigon with other wounded.

That blurry arch up ahead says "Welcome to Quang Tri." It was close to the DMZ. The helo pad was in front of the general's hooch in case he had to make a fast exit. General Hill allowed me to use his quarters. He was the nicest general I met there.

Boys and tanks dug in out where the bullets flew.

They were glad to see someone from home. I wonder how many made it back.

Flying to my next fire station. I always felt safe with a gunner on each side of me.

New Zealander, Bobby Bennett, who is my hero still. He helped me through three months of sheer hell. My little loyal Philippino band would follow me anywhere. They thought that if I was willing to go, somehow it would be safe.

Belting out a song for the boys.

Note that the drummer had my name on the bass drum and my picture on the snare.

A special officer's club performance in the delta.

This happy camper got a good grip when he came onstage to dance.

And went away happier still.

Looking forward through the cockpit of a C-130 transport plane. I was put aboard this for one leg of my tour because helicopters were too vulnerable to enemy fire. The C-130 was slow (120 knots) but strong and flew high.

Looking through the cargo bay door in the tail section. The crewman standing is about to tie a strap around my conductor, Bobby Bennett, so he can hang over the edge of the cargo bay and take pictures.

This is one of Bobby's shots showing clearings burned in the bush by napalm.

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