Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 25, Number 12, 1 Kekemapa 2008 — Christmas 1970, in Vietnam [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Christmas 1970, in Vietnam

It was a very wet and cold Christmas Eve in Vietnam. Being on a reconnaissancesniper mission that day, we had been in the field for more than three straight weeks, living on C-rations and dehydrated foods. The choppers could hardly be expected to show, since the density

of the rain and the fog grew thick as we went deeper \ into the mounlll tains. II Childhood rJP m e m o r i e s fj of my broth-

ers and sisters eame back to me, and eaeh time we rested, I was drawn into a deep silence. The leeches were all over us, sucking what life we were trying desperately to preserve, but we were mueh too tired to do anythins about

them. Vines and thorns pierced into our necks. Colonies of red ants bundled into balls of leaves swanned over us at the slightest touch. Our skin was turning into crusts and flaked when scratched. The ringwonn on my face and the buming itch between my thighs had taken its toll, and I began to cry. I could hardly believe that I celebrated my 19th birthday in this God-forsakened country with a pound eake from a C-ration ean, and that I was about to eelebrate Christmas in the same way, this time having a fruitcake from another C-ration ean. So disgusted with hate, so damned disgusted with fear, so damned disgusted with this stinking life and where it had put me! "God," I prayed, "when is all of this going to end? Why me, and why not someone else?" As I lay with my poneho wrapped around me in the mud, with my head resting on my rucksack, I looked over to see my buddies huddled in their own ways, as if they were being snuggled in their mothers' arms. I could see the same tears of heaven fall on their heads, hiding their own tears. And as I whispered myself to sleep, I cried, "Mama, niania, I miss you so ... Where's all my brothers and sisters? ... Dad, dad, I love you too ... Don't worry, I'm all right, I'll be strong ... Grandma? Hi, Grandpa, boy I sure miss you guys ... Let's go fishing soon, okay?" Suddenly, a noise - like machinegun bursts - drew quickly toward me. I couldn't think, my mind was blank from being so tired, so cold. I could only think, and feel, fear. I grabbed my rifle and tried to scream as the noise got louder,

echoing and bouncing back and forth in my head. Then I opened my eyes as if a bolt of lightning had pierced my body. To my amazement the rain had stopped and only beads of sweat covered my forehead as I began to look about.

Then I looked up and saw a chopper hovering above us, dropping cannisters attached to ropes. I dropped my rifle in my excitement to see what we had. We carried the cannisters and began to open them. To my astonishment and delight we found steaming hot turkey smothered in gravy, mashed potatoes and yams, peas and carrots, bread and butter, and beer. A new change of clothing, too, and some hot eoeoa to relax over. I just couldn't believe it, I just couldn't, as I cried for joy, and we all gave thanks in our own way. Christmas was never forgotten, even as deep into the mountains as we were, we hadn't been forgotten. The good Lord heard our cries and touched the hearts of our conmianders, who knew what it was like here. Editor's note: This story was originally published in the Honolulu Star-Bulletin in December 1981 after winning second plaee and $50 in a writing contest. By republishing it here, the author hopes to share his experience of a Christmas spent in Vietnam as a tribute to the service men and women, past and present, who serve our country, as well as to offer a message of hope tofamily members ofservice members deployed abroad. For his service in Vietnam, the author was awarded the Bronz,e Star with valor, the Army Commendation Medal, the Air Medal, the Combat Infantry Man 's Badge and the Good Conduct Medal, whieh is his favorite. Enoeeneio served as a Pointman in the Reconnaissance/ Sniper Team with the Americal Division from 1970-1971. .īeno Enoeeneio writes about the many hats he wears. Contact him at poiniman _Jeno@msn.com. ^

NĀ PĀPALE ■ MANY HAĪS

At 1 9, Jeno Enoeeneio, center left, stands with Sgt. Bert lmada and other members of the Reconnaissance/Sniper īeam of the Americal Division in a Vietnamese village near fire support base Stinson, Christmastime 19/0. - Photo: Couttesv ofleno Enoeeneio

Fruit eake C-ration ean. - Photo: Couttesyofgeotgia-outfittets.com

By Jimmy F. "Jenū" Enneenein