I joined Headquarters & Headquarters Battery 2/35 Artillery, based in Husky Compound at Xuan Loc, at the beginning of October 1968.  There, I learned OCS classmates Benny Clayton and Bill Kuhnke died at different places in the same week.

I remember as an AO (Air Observer) being treated by Army pilots (I can't remember their names, but I think they were all Warrant Officers) to split-S and other aerobatics in their O-1 Bird Dogs, to chilled air at 3000 feet and to breathtaking flyovers of many intriguing places (the Xuan Loc Flying Association's Web site provides perspective on Xuan Loc and its air operations).

O-1 Bird Dogs heading home after mission (October-November 1968; southwest of Nui Chua Chan at left)

I remember seeing the Signal Corps' relay station atop Nui Chua Chan (also known to us as Signal Mountain) east of Xuan Loc.  And seeing the long beautiful beach at Ham Tan with large gill nets spread out to dry and round boats pulled ashore from the South China Sea.  And seeing the Mekong Delta's endless rice paddies in full flood.  And seeing (and even smelling) Saigon's tightly-packed neighborhoods under rusting corrugated roofs.  And seeing the sprawling Michelin and other rubber plantations with their dark green uniformity and their great houses with swimming pools.  And seeing crater-pocked swaths of defoliated triple-canopy forest east and north of Xuan Loc where the US Air Force had dumped B-52 loads and Agent Orange.

Husky Compound (on the bare ground) at eastern edge of Xuan Loc (October-November 1968; looking east)

Xuan Loc with Highway 1 cutting through rubber plantation beyond (October-November 1968; looking northwest)

Defoliated canopy (October-November 1968; east-northeast of Xuan Loc)

Water-filled bomb craters (October-November 1968; east of Xuan Loc)

I remember calling in numerous fire missions on suspected NVA/VC positions, and being struck by how impersonal and largely ineffective they were.  I remember I could direct no fire into rubber plantations, even if I spotted the enemy in them, which I frequently did.

I remember the terror of landing hard on a plantation airstrip after a dud rocket chanced through a wing while we flew low, then waiting for Charlie to appear before our rescuers.

I remember accumulating hours toward an Air Medal but fell short.  I remember my monthly pay of almost $600 ballooned with the addition of $110 in flight pay .

I remember the battalion's Operations Officer, Major Harry Soyster, who would later command the Department of Defense's Defense Intelligence Agency.  And I remember Specialist 5th Class Larry Budde.  Each worked in the battalion's Tactical Operations Center where I functioned as an Assistant S-3 when not flying; indeed, Major Soyster was my boss and thought me brash.  Their names are linked forever in my Vietnam veteran's memory.

I injured my back and neck at Husky Compound while diving for cover in the black of night during a horrifying mortar attack, one of a number.

I was reassigned in late November 1968 to A Battery 2/35th Artillery where I would serve as an Artillery FO.