Thirty-Eight
“If
it is not right do not do it; if it is not true do not say it.”
Marcus Aurelius
The
mission of the division and the MEF continued, with non-stop planning for
contingencies and exercises. The next mission was to be a deployment to
Thailand. Elements of the division were to join the 37th MEU for an
exercise called Cobra Gold. The exercise was a longstanding show of force by
the US Marines of the Pacific with our nation’s oldest ally in Asia, Thailand.
Intelligence briefings for the staff by the G-2 indicated that Thailand was
experiencing some internal tension, as large-scale protests had been brutally
put down in recent weeks. If the situation escalated and evacuations of
American embassy staff or civilians became necessary, the 37th MEU
would have a leading role.
The
flight to Thailand took 6 hours, and we sat cramped on nylon covers that had
been stretched over a narrow metal frame to create seats. The Pacific is an enormous
ocean, and even places considered to relatively close are separated by vast
distances. We flew with our weapons and gear, crammed into the back of a C-141
“Starlifter” cargo jet. The C-141 was a workhorse of a transport aircraft,
having seen extensive use in Vietnam to move troops into, out of, and around
the theater. One of them had been used in 1973 to bring home the last American
POWs from Vietnam, earning it the nickname of “Hanoi Taxi”. We landed at the
Utapao airport, on the northern end of the Gulf of Thailand. From there, we convoyed
to a Vietnam era resort that had been converted to a Thai Marine Corps
compound. The buildings of the compound looked out from a rise to the soft
white sand of a tranquil beach below. This area would be the HQ base for the 37th
MEU, and this is where the communications center would be setup that would
include the radios, telephones, and computers that would allow the Marines to
communicate, command, and control operations. I would supervise the
installation of the network of computers and integrate it with tactical systems
of subordinate units. We hit the ground
running, taking a quick inventory and then working steadily to bring the
systems online. As anticipated, friction appeared, and problems with power, electronic
components, and even a short circuit caused by the six-foot wingspan of massive
fruit bat were worked through. It took us a couple days, but we completed the
setup and the Major in charge proudly proclaimed the words every Marine
communications officer longs to say, “Comm is UP!” The exercise proceeded as
scheduled, and shifts were setup to keep the operation moving around the clock.
When
we were off shift, we were often granted liberty to go to nearby Pattaya Beach
for dinner and an evening away. The beach had been a favorite R&R
destination of American troops during the Vietnam War, and after the end of the
conflict it became a haven for European tourists. A line of Thai taxis, known
as “Bhat busses” waited in the parking lot to ferry us to the beach a few miles
away. “Bhat” was the name of their currency, like our dollar. The Bhat busses
weren’t really busses, they were small open bed trucks with rickety wooden
benches that had been bolted on. The ride to Pattaya Beach was a perilous
adventure as the balmy tropical breeze soothed us while the driver’s seemingly maniacal
driving made us hold on to the benches for our lives.
Upon
establishing our HQ at the beach, we had been told to report to a briefing by
the unit medical staff. Before reporting to the country, we received inoculations
for various exotic diseases like the plague and yellow fever. Once in country,
malaria pills were issued, and we were advised to take them daily and warned of
the vivid dreams they would cause. They cautioned us sternly of the dangers of
the land we were now in. From venomous snakes and spiders to stinging jellyfish
and foul local water, we were warned to be on guard to protect our health. Most
of the briefing, however, was devoted to putting the fear of the Almighty into
us about the women of the resort area. An evening in their company could result
in a range of painful and embarrassing conditions, several of them having no
cure. The newest was known as AIDS, and up to a quarter of the women we would
encounter were thought to be infected with the lethal virus. AIDS had a long
period of incubation, and those infected would no doubt infect their loved ones
back home before dying an agonizing death after years of suffering. Their point
was driven home with scores of graphic photos depicting what we could expect
from bad behavior. Critical body parts would turn black with rot. Ulcerous
sores would ooze with painful infection. Additionally, there were criminals
lurking in the shadows. Marines bold or dumb enough to end up alone could be
expected to be beaten, robbed, and left bleeding in a dark alley. Wide eyed
Marines listened to the cautions and studied the pictures with interest. Most of them promptly went out and ignored the
entire presentation. As we left, we each were issued a blue card. The front had
our name, rank, and unit, and identified us as a member of the US Armed Forces.
It said in case of emergency to present the card at the nearest police station.
A message in English and Thai was printed on the back:
I
am a United States citizen in Thailand at the invitation of the Royal Thai
Armed Forces. I speak little or no Thai. It is essential that I contact my
superiors. Please assist me by notifying one of the following. Thank you for
your assistance and cooperation.
Phone
numbers below included the US Embassy, and our unit HQ. Marines had clearly
gotten into trouble in this place before.
If
you’ve ever heard the phrase, “to spend like a drunken sailor on shore leave”,
know that there is truth behind the expression. While deployed with the MEU, we
received pay every two weeks. We could opt to take all or part of that pay in
cash, and most Marines chose the latter. On payday, a table was setup outside
the HQ, and the paymaster sat behind it with sturdy chest filled with cash.
Marines and sailors would stand in line until it was their turn. The name would
be checked off, the Marine would sign the ledger, and be issued the appropriate
amount. At the next shore leave or liberty in town, the money would be spent
with reckless abandon on drink, food, trinkets, and entertainment. I waited
patiently in line, having opted to take most of my pay in cash to fund a few
purchases I wanted to make.
The
first night was a kaleidoscope of lights, booming dance music, outdoor bars,
markets, and throngs of people. The women we had been warned about were
everywhere, only they weren’t women, they were teenagers. Most appeared younger than me, some
heartbreakingly so. We ducked into a bar and the scene was depressing, even
though the Christmas lights strung around the bar lent a festive glow. About a
dozen girls were sitting on stools near the bar, and each wore a round badge
with a large number on it. The salty Marines explained the operation to me. If
you wanted the company of a girl for part or the entirety of the evening, you
would tell the old lady behind the bar the number. She would tell you how much,
you would negotiate the price down, and once agreed, the girl was your date. The
girls would sometimes leave their perch to roam the dark room, moving from
table to table initiating conversation. The conversation would lead to a
request to buy her a drink, which was conveniently double or triple the price
of a regular drink. We referred to these young ladies as “buy me drink-ee
girls”, after their signature phrase requesting a purchase. Other girls were
also in the bar and would take turns dancing on a small stage. One beer later,
we were back out on the strip. Marines and sailors were everywhere, and before
long I heard a familiar voice call out “COWBOY!”, which had been my nickname during
a summer training session. One of the Drill Sergeants from a northern city had
confused my central North Carolina accent for that of a Texan accent during a
rant, and the name stuck. The
voice was that of my longtime friend Steve, who was also a lieutenant and had
several Marines with him. We made our way to an open air kickboxing ring and
spent the rest of the evening watching matches and trying to talk drunk Marines
out of getting in the ring. We mostly succeeded, but one young Marine couldn’t
be dissuaded, and ended up flat on his back from a roundhouse kick to the head.
At some point, a group of Thai girls joined us. Their English was poor, but it
was much better than our Thai, so we communicated the best we could. They told
us the best places to go, and where to avoid during our stay. A Lieutenant in
our group hit it off with one of the girls, who was known as Tic and was about
our age, with a short bob haircut. After an evening of conversation, food,
beer, and entertainment, we climbed aboard the Bhat Busses for the base. Over
the course of the exercise, we returned when we could. We would inevitably run
into Tic and one or more of her friends, who would join us for a beer,
clubbing, or to watch kickboxing.
I
spent time in the open-air market areas, studying options for one of the
purchases I had in mind. I had always wanted a nice pair of civilian dress
boots, and there were several shops in Pattaya that would craft a custom pair
from a range of exotic materials in addition to the standard leather. I settled
on my decision and the cobbler measured my feet carefully. I returned a week
later to proudly retrieve a set of custom-made crocodile boots that I still
wear today.
Our
free time when we could leave the operation was typically “Cinderella” liberty,
which meant we had to be back at the base by midnight, so we could be ready for
duty the next day. One weekend several
of the officers were given weekend passes, and we decided to go to the Thai
capital of Bangkok, about two and a half hours away. I had heard that Bangkok
was a great place to find a deal on jewelry, especially emeralds and sapphires.
This would fulfil the second purchase I had planned, something nice for
Elizabeth. Bangkok was much like Pattaya, but on a larger scale. There was more
of everything. We visited the Golden Buddha statue, the floating market, and an
ancient palace. I carved out time for a trip to the jewelry district, where I
found exactly what I was looking for. I bought a beautiful set of emerald
earrings as well as a sapphire ring for Elizabeth. I knew the deep color of
both stones would look amazing with her red hair, and I looked forward to
seeing her try them on. Our final excursion was to a show that depicted a
historic Thai scene where warriors had once battled while riding elephants.
After the show, the crew let us climb up on one of the elephants and ride him around
the open field. Thailand was not a place where safety restrictions got in the
way of a good time.
