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Dedication

I dedicate this book to those Vietnam veterans who have or still are struggling with memories that haunt them daily. I hope sharing my experience in returning to Vietnam will give them ideas that maybe they can consider returning to the scene where their thoughts were manifested.

Acknowledgments

First, my cousin Greg Bain and his wife Clare LaMeres. Without them, this trip would not have been possible. They supported in sponsoring this trip that would change my life; they will always have a special place in my heart. Thank you.

Also, Mr. Giang, our tour guide, who made this trip special. He was the best of the best tour guides one could ever have for visiting Vietnam. Throughout the trip, his knowledge and history of the areas we visited made those places even more interesting. He constantly researched and tried to find an orphanage that was the focus of this trip. The story of his harrowing ordeal after the North Vietnam invaded the South made this trip even more exceptional.

Our driver, Mr. Ky, who professionally weaved us through traffic that would terrify most people; he performed like a choreographer.

Elyssa Fernandes of Audley Travel, and her staff, worked over several months to put together a tour that tried to meet our needs. Her interest in my original book and assistance to market it is greatly appreciated.

Finally, a special thanks to the Vietnamese people for being so gracious and for welcoming veterans to their country. At almost every place we visited—whether museums, businesses, or hotels—we were met with smiles and kindness.

Chapter 1

Beginning the Trip

It was November 3, 2019, 0400 hours. I was standing at the curb in front of Delta Airlines at Orlando International Airport. The air was fresh from the night rain. The palm trees were swaying from a light breeze. A contrast to pine trees in Montana. My thoughts wandered back to October 2018, to my hometown—Kalispell, Montana. I had a book signing on my first book, “You Are Never Alone,” and it was during that book signing that several people asked if I would ever want to go back and visit those areas that had the most effect on me. “Yes, I would like to go back,” I told them, knowing darn good and well that wasn’t anything I would be able to afford any time soon.

Fast forward one year and here I was, about to embark on a trip to Vietnam to rediscover those places that had such a tremendous impact on my life. I didn’t have a clue how this trip would affect me—the people I would meet, the changes to the landscape, or the many surprises along the way. I was hoping for a better understanding of the Vietnam War and how the Vietnamese people survived to make their country a fast-growing travel destination. And I was also hoping to better understand the events that had so dramatically transformed the optimistic and fearless young man I had once been into the haunted and troubled veteran I had become.

Chapter 2

How it Started

It was the day after my first book signing in October of 2018 that I stopped by my cousin’s, Greg’s, office. We hadn’t had much time to chat the day before and I wanted a chance to catch up a little. “I was listening to you yesterday while you were talking about your book,” he said. “The questions were interesting, but I noticed when they asked you about going back to Vietnam, you said you couldn’t afford to.”

“Yes,” I said, “it’s beyond my capability, at least for now. One nice lady gave me $60 toward the trip,” I said, “which was really great, but I’m still about $10,000–12,000 short.” We both laughed.

“My dad never talked about his experience in the World War II,” Greg said, his tone serious. “I knew from Mom he had flashbacks and memories of that War, and he had mentioned wanting to go back to the Philippines, but that never happened.” I nodded, but said nothing. “I understand more about Vietnam from your book,” he said, “and I think it’s important that you return.”

“Well…” I said, “a trip like that would be off in the future.”

“No, you don’t understand. I want you to start planning that trip. Clare and I will go with you, and we’ll pay for everything.”

I looked at him in disbelief. “Did I hear you right?”

“Go ahead and get the process started,” he said. “Figure out what places you want to visit and pick some dates, and we’ll make it happen. That’s the least I can do. I couldn’t help my dad, but I can help make your dream come true.”

I was speechless. “But let’s try not to go in the rainy season,” he said.

“Yes, and maybe not the hottest months either,” I added.

And that’s how it started. I left his office feeling like I had just won the lottery and spent the flight back refining my list of must-sees for the trip. When I got back to Florida, I immediately checked with a travel service, and they put me in contact with their overseas agent, who did not leave a favorable impression. While there were several different tours to Vietnam available, none of them covered areas of interest. I made several more phone calls and discovered that Audley Travel made custom arrangements to several locations around the world. Elyssa Fernandes, a Thailand and Vietnam Senior Specialist, was our chief contact. Finally, after numerous e-mails and phone conference calls between Greg, Elyssa, and myself, the Vietnam portion of our trip came together. Clare worked with Elyssa on picking the hotels. Clare also arranged the airlines part of the trip.

It was decided that we would leave for Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) on November 5, 2019, from Los Angeles International Airport (LAX), and return to the States on November 19, 2019. We would travel to several locations that were significant to me and include a short cruise down the Mekong River. The only location that was iffy was the orphanage. The people on the ground in Vietnam weren’t having much luck locating the facility.

Chapter 3

Orlando to Los Angeles International Airport—November 3, 2019

I was up early, having slept poorly the night before while thinking about the upcoming trip. I kept wondering if this was really happening and wasn’t something I had conjured up and convinced myself was real. The fact that several other people were involved, and that the ticket agent at the Delta desk treated me like a normal passenger, bolstered my confidence. As I put my bag on the scale and handed her my ID, she smiled.

“I see you’re going to LAX,” she said. “Vacationing in California?”

“No, Ma’am,” I said. “Heading to Saigon.”

“I only have your reservation to LAX,” she said, double-checking the computer screen, “returning here on the 19th.”

“That’s correct,” I said. “My arrangements for the Saigon part were made by other parties and we’ll be overnighting before going on to Saigon tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a nice trip,” she said. “I see your hat says you’re a Vietnam veteran. Going back to visit someone?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “My demons, among other things.”

“Wow! Well, you have a safe trip and I wish you well,” she said, as I reached for my carry-on and turned to leave. “And thank you for your service,” she added.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said. “You have a nice day.”

The Orlando airport uses trams to move passengers from ticketing to their departure terminals. It’s all very efficient. I went through security and caught the train to the assigned concourse and, once there, stopped at a coffee shop as it was still 0’dark thirty, meaning the sun had not come up yet. I then proceeded to the gate with so many thoughts going through my head; it was hard to sort them out. With forty minutes to boarding, I called home to touch base one more time. Clare had arranged seat assignments in business class for this direct five-hour flight. It was a luxury that I could really appreciate.

My flight arrived in LA on time, about an hour before Greg and Clare were scheduled to arrive from Montana. I picked up my bag and waited for them in baggage claim. While there, I met a young couple, probably in their fifties who were going on a cruise. We chatted about their cruise and my trip as well. It was a nice visit that helped to pass the time.

I spotted Greg and Clare, gave them a hug, and we grabbed our bags. We headed up the escalator to catch a shuttle to the Hyatt Hotel. We got to the hotel mid-morning so the room wasn’t ready yet, but we were able to check our bags and catch an Uber to the Manhattan Pier. When the Uber driver dropped us off, a cop on a bicycle came over and gave him a $55 ticket for stopping where he did. That was a bunch of crap! Clare gave the drive money to cover the fine. We walked around enjoying the sights, as tourists do, and marveled at how calm the ocean was. There were not many people on the beach, and only a few were swimming or trying to surf on the small waves. We found a corner restaurant by the pier and had lunch before heading back to the hotel mid-afternoon.

After getting checked in and settled, we met at the hospitality room for a drink. By the time we finished dinner, we called it a night, knowing the next day would begin the experience I’ll never forget. I don’t think I slept at all that night. I had thoughts of where I was heading once again and wondered how much different it would be this time. Rather than packed into a military aircraft with a bunch of recruits destined for Pleiku, Vietnam, this time I’d be traveling first-class on a commercial jet with my cousin and his wife, heading to Saigon.

Chapter 4

LAX to Tokyo—November 4, 2019

We left the Hyatt around 8 a.m. as we had to be at LAX three hours before our flight departed. Check-in went quickly, and we took the escalator toward our concourse. As we stepped on the moving stairs, Clare got tangled up in her suitcase and twisted her leg. Despite the pain she limped right along, although she would continue hurting for the first few days of the trip. We stopped at the club lounge for a snack and drink before our flight, which was already an hour late.

We boarded the All Nippon Airways (ANA) Boeing 787-9 Dreamliner, and each had our own cubicle in buvsiness class. The seat could be used as a recliner or a bed and came with our own pair of slippers and a TV. The service was great, and we didn’t want for anything—the only way to travel on a twelve-hour flight. The Japanese flight attendants were all the same height and shape, wore the same hair style, and looked like Quintuplets. They even changed their outfits during the flight when they served food and drinks.

Author’s Photo Collection

Clare, Myself, Greg aboard Boeing 787-9 Dreamliner

The flight was comfortable, but I didn’t sleep much. Mostly I just dozed and thought about the trip ahead. Would I be able to visit my old bases? Was the orphanage still standing? Were there kids living there? Would I find what I was looking for? That was not clear to me, but I was hoping for peace from the pass. I needed to find the orphanage. To me that was the most important part of this trip. If no longer there, then at least find the location. Best yet if I could locate any of the nuns who worked there. I may then find out what happen to the kids after I left Vietnam. But it’s been fifty years, be a snowball’s chance in hell of that ever happening. I knew my expectations were greater than what I could truly hope for. What I gain from this trip will come to me when I get back home.

During the flight, Clare had problems walking due to the escalator mishap. One of the flight attendants noticed and arranged for a wheelchair in Tokyo as our time between flights would be short, and our connecting flight to Saigon departed from a different concourse.

We landed in Tokyo a few minutes ahead of schedule. Greg and I took off to the proper concourse, while Clare was taken by wheelchair on a shortcut to meet us there. As it turned out, Greg and I got lost; the signs were confusing and ended up outside the security area. Thanks for the help from a flight attendant, we were directed to the right concourse but had to re-enter through security to get to it and the gate. I stopped off at a restroom near the gate and, when I finally caught up with Greg, he said Clare was already on board. That was good news as we were a little stressed.