Later in the afternoon I was ready to return to Chu Lai. I was ready, but there were no aircraft headed back to the base. This was bad, it was very bad, and I really needed to return to the base. I found two shiny Hueys on the pad with some aircrew members nearby. I approached them and found the Officer-in-Charge (OIC).

"Good afternoon Sir, are you guys headed back to Chu Lai?" I said.

"Yes we are," he replied.

"If you have the room, I sure would appreciate catching a ride back with you. So I can go out on my mission tonight," I said.

"Well this is a VIP flight, and you will have to get permission to ride from them," he said.

I was wondering who "They" might be. If it was some Big Brass, I figured I might have some chance. If it was Colonels, I was probably out of luck; they seemed to think they were so much more important than we enlisted men were. There was a very rigid caste system in the Army then and there probably still is, and that has it's own reasons and justifications. That was not, however, going to get me home.

"Where are they?" I asked. He pointed up the ramp and I saw some civilians being escorted by some Colonels. It was not a good omen for me, I thought.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"It's Mamie Van Doren," the officer replied.

It turned out that she was in Viet Nam to entertain the troops. I'm not sure if she was with the USO or if it was an independent effort. Oh great, I thought to myself. The officers will want to be with her and I will be left out in the cold. I just wanted to be in the extra aircraft, which was assigned to fly along in the event the lead aircraft had a mechanical failure and went down. It would be pretty embarrassing to lose some VIP's to the NVA or VC.

"Who do I ask?" I said, as I looked at the approaching group. He indicated one of the civilians! I was going to have to ask a civilian if I could ride on an ARMY helicopter so I could get back in time to go fight in the war! I was only 21 years old and that seemed incredibly ludicrous to me at the time.

Fortunately the Colonels would not be going with them. That left more room for me and I felt I had a chance. Surprisingly, to me, it went well and I prepared to get into the second helicopter so I would not intrude on the very pretty blonde woman that was about to enter the lead bird. She was wearing a pair of white jeans and a brown t-shirt with a golden dragon on the front; her long blonde hair fell about her shoulders. I was motioned over and invited to board her aircraft. I thought that was very nice of her and I assisted her into the aircraft. Her manager also boarded. I was going to sit apart from her; I certainly did not want to be encroaching on her space. A beautiful American woman with perfume was a rare commodity in these parts indeed. She patted the nylon seat beside her, in front of the transmission, indicating she wanted me to sit beside her. I slid onto the seat and we strapped into our respective seat belts.

We made small talk and she took my hand in hers as we did so. She was in country to raise morale and she spent as much time in the hospitals with the wounded as she did on stage. It can be a punishing grind that leads to exhaustion. Never enough time for the countless numbers of troops to see and comfort. Soon the volume of noise rose to very loud levels, since we were not wearing helmets, but she still wanted to talk. She asked about the area and what I did. I told her and then I thought I would point out My Lai 4 to her where the much written about massacre had taken place. I pointed out areas near there, where we had taken fire from the enemy on various occasions. I wanted her to know that large numbers of NVA operated within that area. The residents were more than sympathetic to the NVA; the Viet Minh had been firmly entrenched here against the French as well as the Japanese during WWII. The villagers manufactured booby traps for them. All the while she continued to hold my hand. She seemed genuinely interested and concerned for my welfare. She was very sweet.

We flew on the relatively short ride (about forty minutes) to Division Headquarters. Never once did she release my hand. She would be performing that night at the Officers Club. I would be performing that night behind my mini-gun for the NVA or VC. I am sure her performance was much more appreciated by her audience, than mine would appreciate my performance. We landed and I thanked her for coming to entertain the troops and we said our goodbyes. I made my way to a roadside and began to walk and hitch a ride to get back in time to the flight line. I made it and we flew most of the night performing our missions.

Since I worked at night I only made two floorshows, as we called them. I never really regretted that. As an enlisted guy I guess I had one of the more personal encounters with an American performer than most would ever experience. I still thank her the most for her three-month stay in Viet Nam performing for the troops and visiting the wounded. If you have never visited seriously wounded soldiers that were recently injured, you know nothing about war. It is the most heart wrenching experience; it is beyond the imagination of any person other than a nurse or doctor or their comrades that rushed them onto the waiting dust-off helicopter. It will scar your heart and the hurt is palpable. Thank you Mamie for your Patriotism and your love of your fellow Americans. She really cared about our troops and she did something about it!

Copyright Russ Carmean

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