Remembering Ming
Jerry Boe
Prologue
Dear
Ming:
I was cleaning up some old paperwork this morning and
found a picture of you and me at the Cam Ranh Orphanage in 1970. The memories
of my many visits to the orphanage to be with you and to comfort you came
cascading back. I wrote a poem trying to express my thoughts about you and the
many others at the orphanage.
Are a sight and sound sent from
God.
As you look into their faces,
They are still full of hope and
love.
They cling to your arms as you
hold them,
The look in their eyes is not what
you see.
What you see and what you hear is
ÒLove me.Ó
They are so shattered by war that
they forget how to play.
Yet, even with this as you look on
each face,
You can see God at work in this
wonderful place.
You hold them; you rock them, you
watch as they sleep,
You pray you can ensure their safe
keep.
You bathe them, you clothe them,
you feed hem a meal,
Hoping against hope that some
happiness they steal.
Yet, when it is all over and done,
you look and you see,
Their loving expression saying,
ÒPlease love me.Ó
Chapter 1
The innocent children of a
terrible warÉ.
Being an Army Officer during the
Vietnam War, I was certain a tour in Vietnam would be coming my way. Sure
enough, I received orders to the 9th Medical Laboratory at Long
Binh. It was early December 1969 when I received my orders with a departure
date in March 1970. My actual duty assignment was to be Officer-in-Charge of
the US Army, Vietnam, Central Blood Bank, located as a tenant unit on the 6th
Convalescent Center Compound at Cam Ranh Bay
I began my preparations for
leaving. First came immunizations for yellow fever, cholera, malaria, and
tetanus. Then all the work began, a power of attorney, and an updated will and of course the
typical mass of Army papers.
My family appeared to take my departure
in stride. They were somewhat prepared. We had discussed the possibility of my
leaving some time back. Being a 35-year-old career officer required being
competitive and this meant a tour in Vietnam.
Finally, the day for me to leave
came and I said good-bye to my family. Tears filled my eyes as I hugged my
nine-year-old daughter and told her to continue to do well in school. My son
was trying to be strong as we hugged and said our Òsee you laterÓ and my wife
didnÕt want to let go until the last minute when I had to board the plane. I
left not knowing what awaited me in a small country on the other side of
world.
After about an 18-hour flight, we landed in Saigon. The heat was excruciating and compounded by the fact that we were shuffled into a large Quonset hut with no air conditioning. There were only a few fans to push the air around. After a long wait, one of many yet to come, a Major showed up and gave us our Òin-countryÓ brief. The main emphasis was on the importance of taking our malaria prevention pills each week. The Major failed to emphasize that side effects of the medication could be debilitating. Many of us had severe stomach cramps and diarrhea. The side effects were bad enough to put some soldiers in bed for a day.
Once the paperwork was completed,
I was given the OK to travel to Long Binh to my parent unit, the 9th
Med Lab. There were buses leaving at varying intervals so I waited for the next
one to come along. I waited and I looked around. It hit me.
This is a war zone!
The windows on the bus were
covered with heavy mesh wire to keep out hand grenades. Two guards armed with
M-14Õs stood at the front of the bus. But the wire mesh and the two guards
could not keep out the heat and the smells. The odor of humanity overwhelmed:
urine, feces, human sweat, and animal odors mixed with gasoline engine exhaust
in a city of nine million people.
Looking out the window I was
surprised at the numbers of motorcycles weaving in and out of traffic, almost
hitting the slower bicycle rickshaws, and just missing the hundreds of people
on bikes. How they kept from crashing into each other I couldnÕt understand. I
never became used to the mass of humanity, the noise, and the odors, that hung
in the air of the city.
After arriving at the 9th Med Lab, I
met the Commander and was given a clean room and enough time to take a nice
cool shower. I was surprised at the facilities. I had been expecting something
out of ÒMASH,Ó but they the barracks modern. After a short rest, I went out to meet
Lieutenant John Murphy, a Parasitologist, and CAPT Arron Davis, a
microbiologist, both of them had been in country for a few months. We walked
across the compound to the 95th EVAC Hospital mess hall and had
dinner. I know I was hungry, but this was the best meat loaf and mashed
potatoes I had tasted in a long time.
I spent two days at the 9th
Med Lab being briefed and becoming a little more acclimated. Then I was off to
my assignment up country. Before my departure, I checked out a .45 cal pistol,
a carbine, and some extra magazines. I was ready to go. Apprehensive but ready!
I was able to catch a ride out of
Ton San Nuet Air Force Base on an Army aircraft going to Cam Ranh. A quick jeep
ride would then carry me to the 6th CC compound. The flight was uneventful
and I arrived safely. I stopped in to meet the Hospital Commander, Colonel
Joseph Kmieck and then headed for my unit.
My unit, the USARV Central Blood
Bank, was located in a new building and was just a large open area building.
Each night, the huge space was utilized to prepare blood shipments. My
responsibility was the packing and shipment of all the whole blood used by the
military throughout the country. This meant we handled hundreds of units of
blood each night for shipment and use the next day. Each day we would receive
utilization rate information from the various medical units throughout South
Vietnam. We then ordered the blood from the States (actually the Armed Services
Whole Blood Processing Laboratory in Hawaii, ASWBL) to replace what was shipped
out. The rest of my unit equipment and personnel consisted of a jeep, a 5-ton truck, some large blood
storage refrigerators, three fresh frozen plasma freezers, and 4 enlisted
soldiers.
After a short adjustment period, I
settled into the job and found that I had plenty of time to get involved with
some of the hospital programs. The two programs I chose were the Medical Civic
Action Programs (MEDCAPS) and visitations to a local orphanage.
Chapter Two
Winning over the hearts and
minds
É.US military slogan
Even though the slogan of winning
the hearts and minds was something started in the 1960Õs with President Kennedy Ôs pacification
program, the medical units in Vietnam continued to provide humanitarian help to the people of
South Vietnam in the 1970Õs. The medical personnel of the 6th
Convalescent Center worked out a schedule to visit a number of small local
Vietnamese clinics. The visits of course were done randomly, never on schedule
for obvious reasons
On a Wednesday morning, I was told
that there was a MEDCAP group leaving for one of the clinics, and I was welcome
to go along. As I walked to the Headquarters building, I could see a dozen
people loading up a jeep and a 5- ton truck with various medical equipment and
supplies. My first trip out of the compound would prove to be an educational
experience.
As we pulled away, I noticed a
jeep with two armed guards in front of us. Another jeep followed carrying two
more guards. The nurses rode in
the back of the truck with the corpsmen and I rode in a jeep with our dentist Captain Tom
Osborne.
After a 30-minute ride, we arrived
at a small village. People stood in line in front of one of the buildings. 60 -
70 villagers lined up to wait for treatment or medicines. After 15 minutes we
were set up and the doctor and nurses began to examinations. I went with Tom as
he started on those needing dental treatment.
I was amazed ! The elderly were
there for extractions. They showed up with bleeding gums, foul smelling breath,
and teeth loose enough to pull out without effort. The inside of their mouths
were black from chewing Betel nuts. Tom was running behind. He began to examine
patients. Those with very loose teeth he directed to me. I donned rubber
gloves, picked up the extractor, and began pulling teeth. He would identify the
tooth, I would pull it, give the patient some antibiotics, and stick a couple
of gauze pads into the space where the tooth was before moving on to the next
patient.
This was certainly a productive
and interesting visit. I felt good about the people we had helped and could
only guess at the joy I would get when we visited the orphanage the next day.
It was Thursday and, although we were scheduled to visit the orphanage, there was some concern for our safety and a little fear about what we would find since there had been VC action near the orphanage the night before. I woke up early and began to gather my blood utilization data so I could communicate it to ASWBPL in Hawaii. The trips to the orphanage were a different approach to Òwinning the minds and hearts,Ó of the people, as the slogan went. Most of the people visiting the orphanage were nurses or female medics, although a few males did go, mostly to act as security.
Lieutenant Helen Holden was the
nurse in charge on this particular visit. She briefed me on the way. ÒMost of
these children have lost one or both of their parents,Ó she said. ÒSome of
their parents are still alive but are seriously wounded and in the hospital
with no way to take care of their children. So, they have been sent to the
orphanage with the hope that someday they can get back together as a
familyÓ
As we passed through the gates to
the orphanage, she continued, ÒDonÕt be surprised at anything you see or hear,
remember these kids have been traumatized to a far greater extent than you or I
can possibly imagine.Ó
Two nuns were waiting for us. They
helped us to bring our things to the kitchen. Children of all ages, from
infants to teenagers, fill the orphanage. The lack of laughter and playfulness
was surprising. The children seem to be playing, but there was no laughter.
ÒWhat do I do now,Ó I asked
Lieutenant Holden.
ÒFind someone to talk and play with,Ó she answered.
Walking out of the kitchen and
into the yard, I entered a room in another building. The room appeared to be a
nursery. A little girl, about two-years-old, sat in a crib. She was alone,
playing with her doll. She drew me to her, although she was cautious and shy. A
nun informed me that this child had lost both parents. The girlÕs name was
Ming. My heart went out to her and I knew I would visit her again.
Born in Washington, DC, Jerry Boe was raised on the East coast in a
military family. Boe graduated from W.V. Wesleyan College with BS degree, from
Ohio State University with a MS and Texas A&M University with Ph.D. He served
a tour in the USMC as an Air Intelligence Officer, and then transferred to the US
Army. Boe retired after 21 years service in US Army. Following retirement, Boe worked
at Medical College of Georgia and owned and operated a management consulting
business. He sold the business to accept a position as Executive Director,
American Medical Technologist in Chicago. Boe retired from AMT to Beaufort, and
has been writing poetry and nonfiction for several years.