As I have mentioned numerous times in my articles, I spent 22 months in Vietnam from 1969 to 1971. However, I was extremely fortunate in my duty assignments and never spent time in combat or experienced the horrors of war. For my first six months I lived in a hotel in Saigon and worked at a warehouse near the Saigon River.
After being transferred to Long Binh, I weaseled my way into a dream assignment as a lifeguard at one of the post swimming pools. Anyway, here are a few of my more unusual recollections from those surreal days that demonstrate some of the cultural differences GI’s experienced. During my time in Saigon, we were assigned a Mama San to clean our rooms, do our laundry and shine our boots. She was paid weekly by the GI’s who she worked for. Although I never witnessed it, one of the most prevalent legends was that Vietnamese people regularly ate dog meat. At some point during my first few months in Saigon I adopted a stray dog who hung out at the warehouse where I worked. I named him Bad Moon after the Creedence Clearwater Revival’s mega-hit tune, Bad Moon Risin’. While at work during the days, Bad Moon had the run of the 6th floor at the Hung Dao Hotel, running up and down the hallways and napping on my bed.
One day returning from the warehouse I stepped out of the elevator and there in front of me sat six or seven Mama Sans casually chatting and eating their dinner. My Mama San motioned me over and with her chopsticks put a large chunk of meat into my mouth. It had an unusual spicy flavor and proved quite tasty. In my broken Vietnamese I asked what kind of meat I was eating.
One of the other women barked like a dog and pointed to my room. My heart dropped into my stomach. I raced down the hall to my room expecting to see my beloved pooch missing. To my relief Bad Moon lay curled up fast asleep on my bed. Immediately relieved, I stepped into the hall to view the entire group of ladies laughing and pointing at me. I walked down the hall smiling and waving my finger at my Mama San. Before I could reach the merry congregation of ladies my little pal raced past me, tail wagging, joining the cheerful gaggle of ladies. They all instantly began picking at Bad Moon with their chopsticks, simulating the consumption of my frantic canine. Shaking my head, I began laughing and responded, “very funny Mama Sans, very funny!”
After being transferred to Long Binh and landing my lifeguard assignment, I realized I needed some informal lose casual shirts to wear poolside. Being the largest military base in Vietnam, Long Binh had many Vietnamese civilian run shops on post. The day before starting my lifeguard gig, I visited a clothing store down the road from my battalion. I had picked up a little of the language during my six months in Saigon, however not enough to communicate efficiently in Vietnamese.
Upon entering the shop, a Mama San approached. I tugged on my shirt and responded, “Mama San GI need shirt.” She grabbed my arm and led me to an overcrowded rack packed with shirts of varying sizes, colors and designs. She then smiled and asked me, “Have pie GI, have pie?” Why was she asking me if I wanted pie I wondered. The conversation continued. “No want pie, want shirt!” Again I tugged my shirt. “Have pie for you GI, have pie.” I shook my head no and started looking at the tops for sale.
Mama San took a hanger from the rack and again insisted, raising her voice. “Have pie, have pie, have pie!” I decided it was probably best to have some pie to quiet her down before she got mad. Maybe it was a custom at Long Binh to have a piece of pie when shopping. Or maybe she was just being friendly. “Yes Mama San, GI have pie.”
I simulated an eating motion with my hand. She grinned and returned the hanger to the rack, then just stood there. Now what am I supposed to do? Go get me my pie so I can get some shirts and get out of here I thought. “For you, have pie GI.” Again with the pie. Just as I decided it was best to turn around and leave, an Air Force guy toward the back of the store yelled to me. “Hey dude, she’s saying half price, half price—the shirts are half price for you, not have pie.” He started laughing and shaking his head. Then I started laughing along with the Mama San. I picked up a hanger from the rack and asked the Mama San, “Have pie?” She broadly smiled and shook her head…”have pie!”