I joined the Air Force as a 19-year-old youngster, in August 1959.  I had decided there had to be an easier way to make a living, than working on a farm.  After a few years of various assignments, Uncle Sam decided, in January 1967, that it was time for me to take a vacation, to sunny Southeast Asia.  It was wintertime in Minot, North Dakota, so I figured the new venue would be warmer.  After an all-too-short leave, to move the family home and visit relatives, it was saddle-up-and-go time.

We had to take some training at Hamilton Air Force Base, California.  This entailed doing all sorts of fun things, such as qualifying with the M-16, the M-60 machine gun and learning about other pertinent subjects.  Then we were loaded onto the big bird.  We left from Travis AF Base at 0200 hours, on the beginning of a more or less uneventful flight Westward.  Our en route stops, included Hawaii and Wake Island, for fueling.  At Wake, one of the "blow torches" that makes big bird go, had to be fixed.  Next stop was Okinawa, which would later become home for me, and finally onto Tan Son Nhut Air Base, Republic of Viet Nam, after a total of 17 hours of flying.

Yes it was warm there!  They shuffled us (and our stuff) into trucks and buses and headed for the processing area.  First, a head count was taken to make sure no one had decided to get lost.  Next came a long, boring briefing about the country and its customs.  Names and assignments were then called out.  I knew I would be staying at Tan Son Nhut.  At Tan Son Nhut I was a Staff Sergeant (E-5) working as a technician in the Precision Measuring Equipment Laboratory.  We repaired and calibrated test equipment used by technicians of the other services.  I was passing time and looking out the "windows."  Really, there were no windows, but the building had a slanted open siding to allow air to pass through, with open tops and screen wire covering the whole wall.

I kept hearing this strange thunder, but noted there was not a cloud, in the sky.  After some time, it dawned on me, that I was where I was and that it was not the thunder, I was used to hearing.  Now, I know NO real troopers would have done that.   But, give me a break!  I was young and naive, so I assume it was to be expected, besides I had never heard a 105 mm being fired.  Well, none of that thunder ever got to me as most of it was going out, not coming in, which was surely nice.

Welcome Home,

Harlan N. Hatfield
TSGT USAF (RET)