Like our hooches, our workshop with the 101st Airborne was constructed of four feet high plywood walls all the way around topped off with a screen upper half and corrugated steel roof. They were miserably hot. Staff Sergeant Ball, a Waco, Texas, native, came up with a great idea to line the ceiling and plywood walls with insulation covered with plywood. Unfortunately, we were not authorized to requisition the materials through the supply system. He also wanted ceiling fans which were also not available through the supply system. He learned all these materials were available at the Air Force Base in Danang over the mountains and some ninety-five miles from Eagle base.
SSG Ball knew somebody in an adjoining unit who knew somebody who was friends with a Vietnamese guard at the construction depot at the Danang Airbase. Over the phone a deal was struck. We would partner with a supply sergeant from the 1st Brigade, 101st Airborne, drive two trucks into the airbase and wait until the Vietnamese guard started his shift at midnight. One of our trucks was loaded with C-rations. In return for the load of C-rations, we could load up both trucks with any construction materials we wanted.
I had a hometown best friend in Vietnam, a friend I had adopted as a brother. We were in school together from the first grade thru high school graduation. Chevo and his family were our closest neighbors while growing up and lived out in the countryside about a half mile from us. He had joined the US Air Force and was assigned to Danang Air Base. We crossed the mountains into Danang and arrived at the airbase about six in the evening. Since our rendezvous with the Vietnamese warehouse guard was not until midnight, my truck driver and I set off to find my friend, Chevo. I knew his unit designation, so I asked at the front gate and got directions to his unit's location. He worked nightshifts, so when I walked into his barracks, I found him sleeping. I shook him awake, and he was surprised to see me. I introduced him to my driver, Markus, and we had an awkward few minutes of chat - awkward in the sense that we really couldn't find much to talk about. Marcus and I had not eaten since breakfast, so I asked Chevo if there were a place to eat. He took us to a Chinese restaurant inside the airbase and not far from his barracks. I don't recall what I ordered, but both the food and the ambiance were a welcome change from the dingy messhall back at the 101st Airborne. We actually had waitresses here, tablecloths and mood lighting. After a fabulous Chinese dinner, we drove Chevo back to his barracks. Marcus and I drove back to our designated staging area to wait for the midnight run. Chevo mentioned he wanted a poncho liner. I had one with me and offered to trade it for a military blanket so I would have something to sleep with that night. We struck a deal and I slept that night with a warm military blanket in the back of our truck.
We were asleep in the bed of the truck when we were awakened by banging on the sides of the truck. It was after 1:00 AM and time for the midnight run. Our two trucks reached the warehouse area with lights turned off just as the warehouse doors opened enough for our trucks to enter then quickly closed. Working fast and furious, the C-rations were quickly off-loaded with a forklift while another forklift positioned pallets of plywood beside our trucks. The forklift driven by a Vietnamese began loading the pallets of plywood onto the trucks. We noticed stacks of ceiling fans and directed the forklift driver to bring us some fans along with insulation pads to insulate our workshop.
We were in and out of the warehouse in well under an hour. The Vietnamese directed us to hurry up and exit the base while "his friend" was still on duty. Doing as told, we exited the airbase but still had to wait for daylight before making our return trip to Camp Eagle. We drove into an Army compound telling the gate guard we needed a place to park and rest. Come morning we found an Army messhall and ate real eggs, bacon, pancakes, SOS,1 biscuits and black coffee before getting back on the road back home. I vividly recall the breakfast because it was such a monstrous improvement over the 'breakfasts' we ate at Camp Eagle.
Staff Sergeant Ball was elated when we drove our truck into the company area loaded down with his plywood, insulation and ceiling fans. We started remodeling the work area that next day. The ceiling fans were a novelty since no one else at Camp Eagle had them. The workshop was actually cooler from that day forward. There was an extra ceiling fan left over, and I put it in our jeep and drove it to Jim Ballentine as payment for his help in getting my sleeping bag.
Our beloved truck that served us so well transporting our plywood and other construction materials from Danang met its tragic fate two weeks later. It was parked near our hooch during a vicious rocket attack and took a direct hit on the hood. In mere seconds it was engulfed in flames as we watched helplessly from our bunker. "Goddamn commies !" someone yelled out. "They didn't fucking have to do that !" It was a sad loss.
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