Humor in Vietnam: by John Puzzo

John Puzzo

Things happen that make us aware of our humanity, even in the demanding world of an Army Ranger.

Nothing illustrates that better than when peculiar and strange things happened -- things that could have occurred in no other setting than a long-range patrol in the Highlands. They became all the more memorable for that very reason ...

Nicknames ...

I remember once, when lightning struck the side of a mountain where a team had set up an ambush. 

The lightning set off all of the Claymore mines the team had set, arced through the radio, down the handset held by our Lieutenant, and then exited through his jungle boots, singeing his skivvies, and leaving his hair smoking. 

'Lightning Bolt' was none the worse for wear, except for a new nickname, a few minor bruises, and some burnt hair, but the team had to be extracted because the radio was cooked.

On another mission, a team went on high alert and everyone grabbed the clackers to their Claymores, when the guy on night watch heard footsteps coming into their night position just before dawn. 

He roused the team, brought up the artillery net, air assets were mustered for gunship support and extraction and, just before things were about to get noisy, a rooster clucked into view.

We might have eaten the feathery beast under other circumstances. The whole experience earned our high alert team member the nickname: "Rooster".

Both Ways

by David Hamm

I joined the LRRP's in October, 1968. One of the ways we relieved the tension, boredom, and sometimes sheer terror of how we lived was through humor, often directed at ourselves. I can think of these things, even to this day and it makes me smile.

One of the incidents involved a Green Beret named Foster, who was assigned to our unit for a while. 

Our team was taking a break during a mission and monitoring the radio, when we heard Foster call Zero in a highly excited state. He said their team had found a high-speed trail that looked like it was heavily used. 

When the RTO back at Zero tried to get the location of the trail, there was a long pause. Foster didn't seem to understand what information was wanted and kept repeating that it was a high-speed trail.

Finally, the RTO got through to him by asking him which way the trail went. There was another long pause ... and Foster replied excitedly, "It goes both ways."

The RTO could hardly contain himself and asked him to say again which way the trail went. "Both ways! The trail goes both ways, sir."

By this time, our team was literally rolling on the ground, laughing (silently, of course). After this, when someone would ask you where you were going, you said, "Both ways, both ways."

John J. Puzzo
K Company (Ranger)
75th Infantry (Airborne)
United States Army 1968 - 1971

[Excerpts from the book, "The Highlanders In the Vietnam War", which was written by my good friend, John J. Puzzo. If you haven't read John's book yet, I suggest that you do.].

Other Articles by John Puzzo:

Poem, "Waves"
The Lantern

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

Feel free to comment on this post. You are also invited to write about anything you feel comfortable sharing. Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog. You are writing America's history, sharing the truth about the Vietnam veteran, and what it was like in Our War.

The Lantern: by John Puzzo

John Puzzo

I didn’t even realize until I was doing it. It was just my turn, I guess.  I found myself inspecting the new guys’ rucksacks and weapons load prior to a 3-day mission up to the north and west of Kontum.

By summer, 1970, the NVA were pouring down the Ho Chi Minh trail at the rate of about 22,000 soldiers per month and thousands were crossing the border into South Vietnam from their base sanctuaries in Laos and Cambodia.

We were sending some teams up there to pick a few of them off. The weather was bad, so I told everyone to pack rations for 7 days. I think we were there longer than that.

When we got there, the weather on the mountain closed in right away and it stayed that way, so it was a good thing we packed extra rations. We were also at altitude, which affected the weather. It rained a lot and there was thick fog all the time.

We were pulling radio relay for several Hawkeye teams hunting NVA in the valley below. Because of where they were, we had to be in a line of sight to get their radio transmissions, which meant we couldn’t move much. The enemy would know that.

At about day three after nightfall, we heard voices in the darkness and movement coming our way. We thought they had found us.

I got Zero on the net for support and so the good guys could come get us the hell out of there, knowing that finding us at night and in all that soup would be difficult. We were on the outcropping of a ridge line facing the valley below and had nowhere to go but down, or to fight our way out if they hit us, and there were a hell of a lot more of them.

Then they were right on top of us -- and they were noisy. One NVA soldier had a lantern that he shined at us through the thick foliage. He was looking between the rocks and trees right at us but incredibly, he didn’t see us.

Saunders, who was on his second mission with me, I think was on one knee with his M-16 about a foot away from the guy’s face while I whispered in his ear not to shoot unless he came through. I was hoping he wouldn’t smell us.

For what seemed an eternity, the NVA soldier, whose face I could see in the greenish light his lantern reflected off the leaves, peered through the dense foliage right into Saunders’ and my face, and the rest of the team behind us.

The other NVA were talking behind him and poking around everywhere. One of them gave a shout and they started to move away. The guy with the lantern just backed off.

I had Grau and Gomez with me on that mission. It was their first mission as Rangers. They were killed later that year while serving on other teams.

A few days later the weather cleared, the mission was over, and we were alerted that the choppers were coming to get us out. The Black Jack slicks and Gambler gunship escorts of the 4th Aviation Battalion were in the air.

We didn’t just think they were the best chopper pilots and gunship crews in Vietnam -- we believed they ate at God’s mess hall ...

John J. Puzzo
K Company (Ranger)
75th Infantry (Airborne)
United States Army 1968 - 1971

[Excerpt from the book, "The Highlanders In the Vietnam War", which was written by my good friend, John J. Puzzo. If you haven't read John's book yet, I suggest that you do.].

Other Articles by John Puzzo:

Poem, "Waves"
Humor in Vietnam

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale

Feel free to comment on this post. You are also invited to write about anything you feel comfortable sharing. Memoirs From Nam is YOUR blog. You are writing America's history, sharing the truth about the Vietnam veteran, and what it was like in Our War.