Photo Page 95 Photos From Rick Baxter - 402nd TC - 1968

Page 95

My name is Rick Baxter and I mostly grew up 60 miles north of Seattle, Washington in a small town named Arlington. I say mostly because my dad was a minister and we lived in several Washington locations and two in Iowa before settling into
Arlington. I came to Viet Nam on June 17th of 1968 with less than ten months left in the service, having served some 20 months previous to this with the 249th Engr. Battalion based in Karlsruhe, Germany. After processing I was assigned to the
402nd Trans. Co. based at Camp Camelot on Long Binh Post. My first job assignment was as a stevedore at the Dong Nai Barge Discharge site near Long Binh. Soon after beginning my duties there, someone was asked to volunteer to be a crane
operator, and that someone was me. After scaring myself nearly to death, and probably everyone else, I actually got the hang of it; but not before impaling a napalm tube on a bed stake on a 40 ft. trailer. Realizing what was going to happen as the
tube was falling, I really thought I was going to kill us all, but all that happened was some goo-like stuff akin to model airplane glue came out and then dried, sealing the unit.

Rick Baxter

You will notice the pictures I took are not very high quality, for which I apologize. I was using a little Kodak Instamatic camera to begin with, and then in storage my pictures got wet and stuck together, some getting
ruined altogether. In order share them with you, I had to soak many of them apart in distilled water. So, it is what it is.

Army Tug At Bien Hoa Barge Site

Unloading Ammo From Barge

Barge Waiting To Be Unloaded

Benally - Crane Operator

Below - Photos From The Bien Hoa Barge Site

A couple of months or so after getting to Vietnam, the Bien Hoa Barge Discharge Site was opened in rice paddy country outside the Bien Hoa Air Force Base. We were assigned first to night guard duty while the site was
completed and then we manned the site. We would commute daily from Camp Camelot through Bien Hoa Village, through a corner of Bien Hoa AFB, and then out to our site. We worked 12 hour days seven days a week with
one day off a month. However, we found time to play when the trucks were loaded and we were waiting for them to return. There were the touch football games and spinning sodas on ice while yarns were spun.

Ellis

Cranes On The Loading Dock

Cranes Loading Trucks

Derelict Boat

There were two docks with two 20 ton truck mounted or rough terrain mounted cranes with 40 foot booms for each dock. Each dock would host a barge loaded with ammo or bombs or other materials and the cranes
would be swinging loads from the barges to trucks, an arc of approximately 180 degrees. We operated the cranes at full engine rpm and used the foot brake for cable down rather than the winch mode which was
considered too slow. Operators became very good very fast, and even though this was dangerous work, we had few accidents if any, and no casualties while I was there. The stevedores were extremely hard working
and surprisingly trusting of us operators. For some reason, Thomas Sheisel and Barry Nye insisted on stevedoring for me; they would not permit anyone else to do so. I never knew why.

Fishing For A Barge

Guys On Barge

Kress

Unknown

Working at a site with live ammo and bombs makes for a good target. We were all well aware that if we ever experienced a direct hit, they would never find a piece of any of us. With this is mind, there were two
significant incidents that happened. The first was when we had a barge of 1,000 pound bombs come in. They were stacked on the flat deck like cord wood, i.e. no pallets or crating. We were slinging three bombs at a
time from the hook on nylon straps at our usual top speed, dumping them loose in the back of deuce and a halfs. Suddenly the site officer came screaming out of the office signally us to shut down. When we gathered
around him, we were told that for some reason these bombs had been shipped with the detonators installed! If one bomb had slipped out of a strap, none of us would have lived to tell it. We unloaded the rest of that
barge with our cranes running at idle speed, observing every safety precaution possible. The second incident took place one day when all of a sudden all hell broke loose. There were multiple explosions directly across
the river from our site. I'm sure we all hit the deck! Eventually we found out that it was our guys blowing up Charlie's tunnel works across the river from us. That was certainly a relief to find out.

Bell Operating A Crane

Office And Assembly Room

But the rest of the story is about Ritz crackers. For months the mamasans in our hootches had been asking us to buy them Ritz Crackers in tins at the PX. They would pay us for the crackers and we would write them a
note saying the crackers were a gift so they could get the crackers out through the main gate. That day we found out that the main food storage in the tunnel works was Ritz Crackers in tins. That night at our hootch in
Camp Camelot, we surrounded our mamasan and our spokesman confronted her. In sobs she responded, 'Viet Cong come my house and say, 'You buy Ritz Crackers at Long Binh'. I say, 'No can do!, Viet Cong say, 'I take
baby-san and'''....at this point she indicated that he made a motion like slitting her baby's throat! As I remember it, there was not a dry eye amongst us. It was then that I realized how much these people were between
a rock and a hard place.

Unloading Barge

Rick Baxter

Rick Baxter On Crane

Sgt John

Thomas Sheisel Loading Trucks

One day we came to work to find that the barge that had been spotted on my dock the day before had sunk during the night. It had to be unloaded before it could be refloated and so divers were called in. I was chosen
to operate the crane for them. The water in the Dong Nai River is very muddy so we were working virtually blind. The divers had to hook up loads in the dark, partly by feel, then signal one of their own on the
surface who then would signal me: "Farther; Closer; Left; Right; Winch Up; Winch Down; etc. It was tedious painstaking work and it took forever to unload. I had to be so careful to follow directions for I could have
taken off someone's arm or leg or head with the wrong move at the wrong time. It was a real lesson in patience and concentration.

Stan Chisholm

Bien Hoa Air Base

During part of TET of 1969, if memory serves, we were actually living at the Bien Hoa site in a large tent and eating C-Rations. The food wasn't bad, but the Lucky Strikes packed with them were so old that the circle on
the pack was green, and boy were they stale! I especially remember Chaplain Park coming out to hold services on-site during this time. He was a great guy, spending time talking to us and getting to know us. I believe
he was truly concerned and cared about us GIs. On one of the days during TET when we did commute from Long Binh, the main gate of Bien Hoa AFB was closed and we were sent around to another gate which was
also closed. We were ordered to sit on our deuce and a half in the open while a couple of Hueys, one practically over head, were in a fire fight with VC in the tall grass of the perimeter ditch. As usual, we were packing
M14s without ammo. I can remember sitting there wondering how long before stray rounds would find us or the VC would notice us sitting there.

Bien Hoa Air Base

Below - Photos At Camp Camelot

Left - Carpenter - Right Unknown

Vernon Beauchamp

Terry Modert (Tubby)

Camp Camelot on Long Binh Post was where we of the 402nd Trans. Co. lived in pre-fab metal buildings on cement slabs. Our mess hall was nearby as was an outdoor theater where movies were shown on occasion.
Showers (in brown water hauled from the river) were usually available daily if you were quick to get there after work. The toilet was a 4-holer outhouse designed so you could chat with the guys, whether you
wanted to or not. The main topic of conversation was, "Pass me some toilet paper, will you?" The communal urinal was 4 half walls and a roof with an area in the middle to pee into. This was a very friendly situation
where you could take a leak and at the same time say hello to whichever mamasan happened to be passing by. This could be a problem for those who tended to be pee shy. I am sure the idea was to maintain an open and
friendly atmosphere throughout the camp.

Short Timer Party At Camp Camelot

There was a surprise for me when I got short; some of the guys threw me a Short Timer's Party. I have to say that I was really touched. I had been in charge out at the site at times when Sgt. Edwards had to be away and
had had to be kind of hard on the guys at least once. A Bird Colonel came through and didn't think our site was clean enough. He said he would return in two hours and things had better be clean or heads would roll. Since
I was in charge, I organized a police call. This created a minor rebellion with the guys belly aching at me. They had a ring leader who was really steamed and in my face. I got mad and told them they better get the job
done or all the play time was going bye bye! I also told the ringleader he was on "crap" detail (burning feces in half barrels with diesel; it had to be stirred by hand) for a week. I went into the office and stewed. Soon they
sent in a delegation to let me know they had talked it over, were sorry, would clean the site and would I please let things go back to the way they used to be? I said that would be fine but the ringleader was still on
crap detail. The spokesman said they realized that. Later, when I wasn't mad, the ringleader and I had a stare down on the board walk at Camelot. After a moment or two we passed each other and I was sure glad
because I was about 130 lbs. soaking wet and he could have picked me up and broke me over his knee! Evidently everyone got over being mad at me because they still gave me a party and proved what a great bunch of
guys they were, each and every one! I am proud to have served with such a fine group of men.

Unknown - Rick Baxter - Stan Chisholm - Unknown

Looks Like Everyone Is Having A Great Time

CW Benton

Wiley Allred

Mike Bayne

Ted Henry

One of the attractions of living in Camp Camelot was that we got to spend a lot of time in the bunkers. Because we were directly below USARV Headquarters, and because that was a favorite target for Charlie's mortar
attacks at night, we got very good at running for the bunker. It seemed like the VC would accumulate a few rounds and then launch an attack, most of the rounds coming through Camp Camelot as they walked up
the hill trying for the prize. At least while I was there, I don't think they ever made it.

Mike Norton

Bell

Stan Chisholm

Thomas Sheisel

At Camp Camelot one night during TET, we were called out with full battle gear and ammo to defend USARV Headquarters just above Camp Camelot. The VC were breaching the perimeter below our company. I remember
laying there in the USARV parking lot with tracers flying wondering if this was going to be the time I had to fire or fight hand to hand. Fortunately, the guys below us held the line and we were able to hear the all clear.

Rick Baxter & Tom Sheisel Stacking Them Up

Gallagher & Mike Norton

Tom Sheisel - Rick Baxter - CW In Background

Stan Chisholm And Barry Nye - Unknown

Unknown

The last night I was at Long Binh before reporting to Bien Hoa AFB for processing out of country, we had a mortar attack. The long months of stress, the repeated mortar attacks, the 12 plus hour days with one day a
month off took their toll, and I lost it! I refused to go into the bunker. I was totally out of my mind with anger that Charlie was attacking us on my last night there. I remember stomping up and down the board walk
screaming curses while my Sgt. was hollering at me to get into the bunker or face an Article 15. I did not obey, and thankfully he let it slide. I can still feel the rage when I remember that night. In fact on the 4th of
July every year, I feel the same way.

For me, as time went on, I became more aware of the fact that I could possibly not return home. I know I didn't think about it all the time, but there were times, especially at night. I remember sneaking out onto the
back porch of our hootch one night and praying. Now I was a typical GI, drinking, smoking, cussing and other things which didn't line up with my strict Christian upbringing. But I did remember that God was there, so I
told Him if He would get me home safely, I would serve Him the rest of my life. He came through, but when I got home I promptly forgot my promise. However, a few years later He got my attention, and although I have
fallen short many times, I am a believer in Jesus Christ and am serving Him as best I can. I only regret I waited so long.

On Left - Bell - Wiley - CW

Mike - Unknown

Bell

Group Photo

Below - A Few Photos I Took Of The Long Binh Area

Chapel - Long Binh

Tower - Long Binh

Chopper Maintenance

Rick Baxter In Front Of Huey

Cobra Coming Up

Chinook Chopper

Cobra Taking Off

Another Cobra And Huey

Below Are Some Photos I Took Along 1-A And In Saigon

On The Road To Saigon

Dong Nai Barge Site

Home With A View

I made it to Saigon several times. It was interesting to see life go on in some places as if everything was normal. And yet there was military presence everywhere. I saw people who lived on a standard far above
anything I have ever experienced, and I saw people living in a tiny shack on spindly poles over a waterway. Their shack was comprised of pieces of board, cardboard, tin cans, etc. woven together to make four walls
and a floor. Inside the shack was nothing, not even a pillow.

Communications Tower

Countryside

Wheeled APC - V-100

Tanks Along Roadside

On April 10th, 1969, I had finished processing out of the Army at Oakland, CA and was at the San Francisco Airport waiting for a standby flight home to the Seattle, WA area. I dropped into an airport lounge thinking a seven and seven would be
nice. I was in my Class A uniform and feeling good about going home. It was mid-afternoon and the lounge was so full I had to stand at the bar. My drink had come and as I raised my glass, I suddenly realized the atmosphere had changed. I
stopped with my drink halfway to my mouth and glanced around to discover that everyone in the lounge had stopped talking and they all were glaring at me. I tried to raise my glass and drink, but my hand shook violently spilling some of my drink
and my head started bobbing. I set the glass down and paused a few moments. I raised the glass again, and again my hand shook violently and my head bobbed. After one or two more repetitions of this happening, I put down the glass and walked out
of that place.

Shacks Along The Roadside

Not Sure Where This Was

Water Treatment Plant

Approaching The Newport Bridge

Very Nice Home

Normal Neighborhood

Saigon USO

Tan Son Nhut USO

US Embassy

South Vietnamese Soldier's Monument

Shortly after getting home I went to my cousin's wedding. At the reception I was surrounded by lots of people I didn't know. When I would try to lift my fork full of wedding cake, my hand would shake violently sending the cake on the floor and my
head would bob. I tried to take a sip of coffee, but the violent shaking of my hand spilled it all over me. I put the tray down and quit trying. For years this was repeated when in crowds of unknown or unfamiliar people. In 1984 I became a minister in
a Protestant church. When I would need a sip of water from a glass during my sermon, I could only accomplish that task by holding the glass with two hands and slowly raising it to my lips while holding my head very erect. Even then I had to
control trembling. If I forgot this procedure, my hand would shake violently sending water everywhere, including all over my sermon. At the same time my head would be bobbing. With time this symptom has all but alleviated. Most times I can
handle eating and drinking in the presence of strangers now. But I have come to realize that there are some scars that are not made by bullets or bombs and there are scars that never really heal completely. Today, and increasingly for me, I live
with physical and emotional baggage that began in Vietnam many years ago. I lived in denial of this for nearly 40 years. I can deny it no longer. I know I am not alone. I know there are thousands of us who are struggling with the effects of Agent
Orange, PTSD and other things. I pray God's help and blessing for all of us who are in this struggle.

Presidential Palace

Military Presence Throughout Saigon

Saigon Lady Contemporary Dress

Saigon Lady Traditional Dress

Vietnamese Boy

Saigon Traffic

Downtown Area

Sign Of War

Can You Find The Lizard?

Rick Baxter In Saigon

I want to thank Allan Furtado who has invested his time and resources in putting together this awesome site that links us all together. Also, my thanks to Randy Richmond who maintains a list for the 402nd Trans. Co. And
thanks to them both for all the faithful updates and other communications. Although I have only recently come to know Al and Randy, they both have already been a great source of help and encouragement to me
through personal communication. God bless you both!

Newport Terminal

Tanks On The Move

Taxi

More Taxis

Normal Neighborhood

River Traffic - Newport Bridge

Shrines?

Normal Neighborhood

Saigon Park

Nice Fence

Pedi Cab

Saigon Park