Living in the Zoo

Life in the flora and fauna of Vietnam certainly challenged all incoming troops. The fauna would bite you. The flora would either tear at your clothes, or wiggle overhead to let the world know your exact position. We traveled the mountain tops, the grassy plains and the rice paddies. Each area held its own unique challenge to the American soldier.

My first recall comes from our initial days in Phan Rang. Those were the days of in-country training. A large group of our medics slept on cots, in a general purpose tent. (This was the last time we were all alive together.) Our dwelling rested upon a cement slab. This was the Army equivalent of five star accommodations! Here was the only place, I can recall, that we had mosquito netting.

As the Vietnam darkness fell, we soon learned the value of the netting. A mysterious noise disrupted the banter flying from cot to cot. We were rehashing the training events of the day. An unidentified flying object buzzed, drowning out the spoken word. It sounded like a four engine prop at full throttled. We soon discovered this to be a Kamikaze mosquito… and he had friends.

I am from Maine. Our state bird IS the mosquito. These buggers were the loudest creatures I had ever heard. They made you want to put covers over your head, in the 120 degree temperature. All we could do is laugh…and cover up tight. We put a lot of trust in those bed covering nets! We were fresh meat. I was never again bothered to same intensity. Of course we kept a liberal supply of insect repellant going forward.

Our next creature was found abruptly on the Currahee trails, especially in wetted areas. Vietnam is filled with leeches of all sizes and descriptions. They all love the warm pits of your body. If you don’t smoke, you will light up to get rid of leech. Their bite proves painless. However, just pulling them off can get painful; the spouting blood can also work upon the squeamish.  I saw a foot long leech crossing our trail one day. It curled my toe nails…just to think of him in my pits.

Scorpions proved to be most terrifying. I have dug more than one foxhole in a scorpion bed. Those were the nights I slept above ground…piling in the hole only under the most extreme duress!

I remember walking behind a replacement, in some God-forsaken rain forest. A large scorpion fell down on his open chest. He tried to swat it. That was his first mistake. The bugger bit him good! My soldier screamed and fell writhing to the ground. I bent to my knees, as he gasped for air. We took his shirt off…to keep him from getting another good bite. The scorpion crawled out of the shirt, as big as day. Once my troop got his breath, he wanted to share his last will and testament. It took a full ten minutes to convince him that he would live to see another day! A Benadryl, cold compress and few sips of water restored his soul. With that…we hit the Currahee trail again!

Fire ants were my main nemesis…other than our formal enemy. I grew to fear these fierce beasts of the forests. I asked an experienced trooper what to do, if I ran into one of these creatures. He said, “You will know what to do.” Well, enough said.

Not many days hence, I felt a significant pain all over my body. I mean…everywhere! On a pain scale of one to ten…this was a twelve! I threw my helmet, ripped off my shirt, tore my pants to the ankles. Within seconds, I was butt naked…somewhere in the middle of Vietnam. Speaking a little French, I discovered a swat team of fire ants, in various strategic places. Once the critters were killed, I carefully searched and replaced my clothes. [That is the unspoken procedure for a fire ant attack!]

Now that I had formal contact with these critters, a paratrooper filled me in. You look for the glossy shiny leaves on the trees. The sheen is the tell tale sign of fire ants. I was never to be bitten again. However, I later saw one crawling on the ground. I lit a match and he attacked it until he died. They are the fiercest critters of the jungle, bar none!

Everybody has an ape story in Vietnam. Mine was a monkey. Somewhere at Ton Son Hut Airbase, I passed an open shower. With time before my flight, a shower seemed like a good idea. I dropped my bag inside the stall. While starting to pull my shirt off, I was rudely interrupted by a monkey.  I said, “Hey.” He started getting increasingly aggressive. He positioned himself between me and the door. The shower was now the last thing on my mind; I would take a shower in Hawaii. I picked up the bag and threw it at him…so I could run for the door. That worked out well. Then the monkey decides that I could leave without my bag. He fought me every inch of the way!

The area was pretty clear, but I found something else to throw at him. (We were never going to be friends.) He was up to my game by now and bit me as I grabbed my bag, located below his feet. I think my pride hurt worse than the bite. As a medic, I thought about rabies. However, I would be damned if I missed that flight! In reflection, I think they trained this monkey to guard that shower stall. He never left his post. I did part with a few choice words, a bruised ego and a sore hand.

Currahees…I have one last critter to tell about. He is a story all by himself. He lived further down the trail.