Welcome Home - Then and Now

A Fitting Welcome

by Craig Latham

34th PID
101st Airborne Div. (Ambl)
Phu Bai, S. Vietnam
1970-1971

I'm going to say something nice and then I'm probably going to rant ...

I think what our citizens are doing for our returning soldiers is the greatest thing in the world. We show that they are appreciated for the sacrifices they have made and the paths they have taken in life. 

Now, that being said: Where was this "Welcome Home" for the returning Vietnam War Veteran or the Korean War Veteran (YES these were Wars, too)? 

We were treated badly upon arriving home from something we did that we thought was right. Now everyone is getting on the band-wagon and thinking they can right a wrong done to us by saying, "Welcome Home". 

Welcome to Hell?

What about all the Vietnam Vets who didn't make it this far to hear a "Welcome Home"? 

The homeless Vets that people still don't care about? 

The broken homes from soldiers suffering from PTSD? 

The Agent Orange that the government said wouldn't and wasn't hurting us? 

The suicides? 

The ones who are still missing? 

The ones who breathed their last breath for this Country? 

What about them? 

Our government still treats the Veterans badly. Cutting benefits. All the while, the "Fat-cats" in Washington would have you believe they are trying to help this country, while they line their pockets with our hard earned cash. 

Craig Latham

Yes, give a "Welcome Home" to our returning Vets, but please don't think that just because you say, "Welcome Home" to a Vietnam Veteran, or a Korean Veteran, that everything is forgotten. IT ISN'T. 

My 2 cents', for what it's worth.

“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

1971: Craig Latham

Today, I'm sharing a story, using Mr. Peabody's "Wayback Machine" (remember the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show?).  It's a newspaper article from 1971, featuring an interview The Coshocton Tribune (Coshocton, Ohio) did with U.S. Army News Correspondent, Craig Latham.  Craig, as you know, is a regular contributor here at Memoirs.

Craig Latham

Coshocton Tribune, Sunday, September 5, 1971:

Craig Latham, son of Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Latham of Hay Avenue, has just returned from a year's duty in Vietnam. While there, he was stationed at Phu Bai, where he served as an Army news correspondent in the public information division.

In an exclusive interview with The Tribune, Craig noted that much of his writing in Vietnam was done from the human interest angle.  "Giving the guys something to laugh about," Craig stated. "And, contrary to popular belief," he added, "there are funny things happening over there."

He recalled an incident he wrote about concerning the men getting soft drinks and beer as often as possible. "The drinks are brought by helicopter and they try to keep them as cold as possible." Craig volunteered. "One of the fellows could never find a can opener and, by the time he did, the drink was usually warm. 

 So, he wrote to two of the top breweries and asked them for a can opener. One of them sent 10,000, and the other one, 7,000. He wrote and thanked each of them and mentioned to the one that sent 7,000, that the other brewery had outdone them. They promptly sent 10,000 more. Then the guy had 27,000 can openers, which of course he didn't really need. 

 He put up a sign telling the other fellows to "help themselves". As it turned out, the next time the soft drinks and beer were delivered, the fellow had forgotten to keep one of the openers for himself and he still didn't have one."

Craig's articles appeared in The Stars and Stripes as well as his Division's newspaper, which was put out every two weeks and consisted of six pages.  "Naturally, the material is censored before it is published," Craig pointed out.

He feels the men in the field at Vietnam have a good morale and they laugh at the students back here who are always demonstrating against the war. They don't really let it bother them.  "Drugs are probably the worst problem over there. Marijuana grows right along the road. Thefts are another problem. The youngsters steal from the soldiers something awful, then, of course, the guys can buy the same things back from the black market for a lot more than it's worth." Craig said.

The temperature was about 95 degrees the evening he left and he didn't seem to mind the heat as much as the rain, noting it had rained for five straight months while he was there. The rain didn't last all day, but during those five months there there were one or two showers daily, which caused flooding.

Bob Hope in Vietnam

He was privileged to sit on the stage during Bob Hope's performance in Vietnam and he did a story on actress Mamie Van Doren. Shortly before his departure for home, he mentioned that Miss America and six other young women were visiting the various bases. 

When asked if the boys became involved with the civilians, Craig said, "Yes." He particularly emphasized the fact that the guys aid the orphanages and contribute to them. They also asked their folks to send them things for the children.

Craig is a 1968 graduate of Coshocton High School and attended Kent State University for one year, before volunteering for the military. In February, 1970, he was inducted and took his basic training at Fort Bragg in North Carolina, followed by a course in journalism and photography at Indianapolis, Indiana.

Following his discharge, which is due in February of 1972, he feels he would like to stay in newspaper work, especially now that he has the training for it and enjoys it.   His actual start with newspapers came about some years ago when he was a Tribune carrier boy.

His family was elated to have him home and actually rolled out the red carpet and had signs decorating their home to let him know just how glad they were.  Craig has two sisters, Bonnie and Mary, who live at home. His mother and dad are both employed by Shaw-Barton. And, of course, there is a girl in his life, Jeanne Zolar, who is a student at Kent State with three more terms between her and gradation.



“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

Coming Home: Craig Latham

"And I'm proud to be an American,
where at least I know I'm free.
And I won't forget the men who died,
who gave that right to me." ~Lee Greenwood

Coming Home

by Craig Latham

Craig Latham

I've never told many people about this, but when it came my time to ETS back to "The World", I sorta felt like I shouldn't leave Phu Bai ... there were new guys left in our old jobs that we mentored. One was a guy who was considerably older than any of us had been. I don't even know how he got there. He had no clue. But I did what I was suppose to do and I came home.

I went to Cam Rhan Bay. Our "Freedom Bird" came in and, just as it was landing, mortars started hitting the field. The plane touched down and kept right on going. They tried this four times and each time we were hit. This went on all day. I guessed there were elections going on and the "Little People" wanted to disrupt it. Finally the plane went somewhere else because it had to refuel. What started out at 0800 that day didn't end until 1700 that night.

When the mortars finally stopped, the plane landed. What usually took a couple of hours to unload and reload the plane, took approximately 45 minutes. As we were going in the front door, the "Cherries" were exiting the rear of the plane.  I got on the plane and got a window seat. I always liked looking out from the air. I guess that's why I used to like to fly over there whenever I could get a lift. Anyway, when we took off, we were over water. The plane was quieter than I thought it should have been for a bunch of guys who just spent the worst year of their life. I figured maybe they were like me and we just couldn't believe we survived.

Well, the guy in the middle, in the seat next to me (Mike, I forget his last name), started talking about getting home and going fishing. Now this Mike had worked in an HHC orderly room all year and probably never got outside the wire at Camp Hochmuth, let alone in Phu Bai. He started talking about fishing and how he used to love to fish in the ocean and how he caught big fish. Then he told me about catching sharks. Right then and there I figured the plane was gonna crash, and I would survive the crash only to be eaten by a big fish ... lol. I immediately got up, and traded my seat for an isle seat for the rest of the trip home.

The next time I looked out of the plane would be as we were crossing a beach in Washington State. I've only been on a plane three times since that time. One time, I was flying from Seattle to Columbus. Another time, I was flying from Columbus to my next duty station until I got out of the Army (I hitch hiked home from Ft. Riley). And the third time, to and from Albuquerque NM when I went out there for PTSD study.

Craig Latham

Combat Writer/Photographer
1970-1971
34th Public Information Detachment (34th PID)
2nd Brigade/101st Airborne Division (Ambl)
Phu Bai, S. Vietnam

    

**Thank you, Craig.  As always, it's an honor to post something you've written.
With a hug and a lot of respect,
CJ


“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

For Our Country

The following was actually a comment left on yesterday's blog which was written by David Westfall, "God Bless the Marines".  I was afraid it would be lost in the comment box -- I don't how many people take time to read the comments -- anyway, I think it's significant all by itself.  It was written by our friend, Craig Latham, who is a regular contributor here at Memoirs:

Craig Latham

"Hi David,

Like the saying goes, "Some gave All and All gave some".

Every person in the US Military, be it two years, or twenty, out of a life time, they should be considered a hero. 

They don't have to see combat for them to be doing something for their Country -- Our Country.  They are giving a little of themselves so that others can be free. 

Any loss is unacceptable, be it in combat action, training accident, or someone being hit by a car. 

These military personnel give of themselves every day. They don't ask for much in return, but we should give them what we can, even if it is here in a blog at Memoirs From Nam to just listen and know that your words do not fall on deaf ears.

Welcome home my friend.

Craig Latham
Former 101st Airborne Div. (Ambl)
Phu Bai, Vietnam (now in Ohio)"

(*Thank you, Craig -- you always know the right words.  Your friend, CJ)



“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

Craig Latham: Good Memories

I spent my summer of '65 in Dorchester, Massachusetts, a very large suburb of Boston. I was a camp counselor for the Mt. Bowdoin YW/YMCA. I was just a young kid in a big city.  It would be the first of a couple of summers doing this job for my foster-brother, Buzz.

I made many new friends while I was there. Being from another state (Ohio), everyone accepted me into their circle of friends. I was known as "The Hair from Ohio".

One particular counselor that I met was named Ned Ford. He was chubby-faced with red-hair, funny and an all-around good guy from a neighborhood made up of all races. There was always turmoil amongst the different kids there, but being the outsider, I got along pretty well with everyone.

At the end of the summer and the last weekend of camp, the others threw me a going away party. At the party were Mike, Linda, Janet (my first girlfriend ... lol), Ned, Rich and even several more. The party broke up around midnight. Everyone gave me a gift or card and we talked about the past summer -- the trips with the kids to the beach, the amusement parks, zoos and how we would remain friends and write. This didn't happen (except for Janet --we wrote every week for about five months). Ned was one of the last to leave and as he said his good-byes, the last thing he said was "We'll meet again, my friend", and then he was gone.

Now we'll skip forward six years. It's August '71.  I'm a combat writer/photographer in Vietnam and I'm "SHORT".  This means I only have a few days left before I rotate home, back "To The World". I had an assignment at Firebase Tomahawk, the blown off top of a small mountain where artillery units were and infantry companies worked out of.

Tomahawk:

It was late in the week and I didn't want to spend any more time outside the wire at Phu Bai than I had to. I'd made it through my year and all I could think about was going home. There were no more helicopters coming into Tomahawk until Saturday. Tomahawk was about 20 miles or so from Phu Bai.  There was some daylight left, so I decided to try and hitchhike back.

I figured once I humped (hiked) down the road from Tomahawk to QL1 (major highway from Dang to Phu Bai), it shouldn't be a problem getting a ride. I had my rifle, ammo, and ruck to carry. I finally flagged down an Army truck (a deuce-n-1/2), climbed into the back and off we went. There were two guys in the front and me in the back.

The driver asked where I was going and, when I said Phu Bai, he said no problem. I noticed the driver kept looking at me and it was giving me an uneasy feeling. Several times he actually turned around in his seat to look my way. It wouldn't be the first time someone got mugged in the service and now I was getting jittery. Here I had survived my year only to get mugged.

About halfway between one of the villages and Phu Bai, the driver pulled the truck over to the side of the road and stopped -- right in the middle of Bum-Fucked-Egypt. Then I got worried. He got out and walked around to the back of the truck, looked at me and asked, "Do you have a brother?" I said no and he turned and headed back to the front of the truck but then he turned around again, came back, and asked, "Are you SURE you don't have a brother named BUZZ?" Then I noticed the red-hair and his boyish look. Although I had no real brother, BUZZ was my foster-brother who I worked for in Dorchester and I realized who this red-haired soldier was. It was Ned Ford.

We started to chat but then realized it was getting late and it wasn't a good idea to be outside the wire with just the three of us so we headed on to Phu Bai. He dropped me at Brigade HQ and went to park his truck. We had agreed we would meet up at the EM Club after chow.

It turned out that Ned was on his last truck run when he picked me up.  In two days he was headed back home. We had quite a few beers that night. He had been living not more than 100 yards from me for the past year. We had probably passed each other a few times at chow when I wasn't with an infantry unit or at a Firebase. When the night was over, he said, "See, I told you we would meet again". This time no promises were made, but it was nice to know that I was remembered.

Ned moved to New York after that summer in Dorchester. I would hope that somehow he might read this. I doubt it, but you never know. Stranger things have happened.

By the way, "Welcome Home Ned".

Craig Latham
34th PID
101st Airborne Div. (Ambl)
Phu Bai, S. Vietnam
1970-1971


“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