Chapter 2

It was 1300 hrs before the chopper was ready to go.

“Funny,” the Operations Sergeant told us, “that bird came limping in early this morning, but maintenance couldn’t find anything wrong with it, and they went over it with a fine tooth comb. They even took it for a test flight. Nothing - not a glitch to be seen, behaved like a perfect lady. Anyway, you’re ready to go. They’ll be on the pad out front in five minutes. They’re refueling now.”

The CH-47 that landed a short time later was painted OD all over except for the bottom which was painted bluish white. We loaded up. The crew chief helped us get the shipping container on board and strapped it down with the rest of the cargo. There were only two other guys going with us, but they were only going to our first stop. The rest of the space was taken up with cargo. There were web seats along one wall to sit in.

We took off and circled over Camp Friendship. It was a lot bigger than I had realized, and there were a number of outlying Army areas around it. There was little to do on the flight. It was too noisy to talk comfortably, and the windows were few and small. Sawyer sat back and went to sleep. After a bit, I followed his example and took a nap, too.

The first stop was at Ubon Ratchatani. The other two Americans got off there and some of the cargo was unloaded. Following that, a small amount of other cargo was loaded and a number of Thai Special Forces people boarded. Their Sergeant seemed to know MSG Sawyer, and they talked for a few minutes in Thai, but I couldn’t understand any of it.

MSG Sawyer explained the route to me before we took off again.

“From Korat, we flew east to Ubon, about 300 km. We’ll go south from here to Stung Treng, another 250 km. That’s where the Thai Special Forces (TSF) are headed for, their Sergeant told me. We’ll go on to Ban Lung in another chopper. It’s another 110 km. We’ll be stopping there for the night. We have a Team House in Ban Lung near the Para Ramsey Guest House. We can eat at the Guest House, or if we get real adventurous at the American Restaurant, a few blocks away.

“In the morning, I’ll arrange transportation out to the camp. It’s another 115 km from Ban Lung. Whoever meets us at the airfield in Ban Lung will have our weapons. They get real uptight if you walk around Korat with weapons, but you’ll need them where we’re going. You never know when you’ll run into some VC, TC, or NVA type on leave or R & R. Maybe one just out looking for trouble. It’s best to be prepared,” Sawyer warned me.

By the time we got to Ban Lung, it was almost dark. There was a jeep with a trailer there to meet us. We got the radio into the trailer with a little help and took off for the Team House. The driver also had weapons for us. I was surprised to see that two of them were AK-47s.

“What’s with the VC weapons?” I asked Sawyer, curious.

“They’re better than the M-1 carbine and lighter than the M-14,” he told me with a grin. He had a .45 and a shotgun. I was careful of the AK-47, as I hadn’t been checked out on one yet, but could figure out the basic operation.

When we arrived at the Team House, there was only the guy on Duty NCO there to meet us. Everyone else had gone to chow at the American Restaurant / bar. We left the heavy weapons there, and only took a .45 automatic each with us, as we headed for the restaurant with the driver.

It was an interesting walk. There were few streetlights, but all of the stores were still open and had lights on. The sidewalks were intermittent, and often broken or cracked. There were stores selling everything under the sun, from clothes to hardware, from food to eat to beauty parlors for the women. There was the smell of charcoal fires in the air, the aromas of cooking food, and kerosene from the lamps, plus the occasional whiff of sewerage from broken or cracked pipes.

We could hear people talking and laughing, as we moved down the street, but there was a bubble of silence that surrounded us, and moved with us, as people became aware of our presence.

“They talk different here than in Korat,” I mentioned to Sawyer.

“Yes, a lot of them still speak Khamer in addition to Thai. Khamer is a lot different than either Thai or Lao. Lao is closer to Thai, but still different,” Sawyer told me. “When we get to the camp, you’ll hear a lot of different languages, as there are a lot of ethnic minority groups that live in the area: Kreung, Kavet, Brao, Lao, and Lun people. Some of them speak Khamer, Thai, or Lao also. We have a number of translators at the camp to get orders to the various groups. Each platoon is made up of only one minority group to simplify things, but it can still be a rat fuck to get things done at times,” Sawyer told me.

I did notice that no one got in our way on the way to the restaurant and wondered if it was because of Sawyer’s size. He is one big sucker, and most of these people were only around five feet tall.

At the restaurant, we found the others eating, drinking, and carousing with the women. As soon as we entered the restaurant, a rather tall woman moved in our direction, and came right up to Sawyer. She must have been at least 5’-10” tall, had big breasts and hips, though she wasn’t fat at all, she was just larger than the other women there.

She planted a big kiss on Sawyers lips, and he wrapped his arms around her, and gave her a big hug.

“This is Sophie. She’s part Khamer and part Hindu Indian. That’s why she’s so tall, not like most of these girls. I like a big woman, and Sophie fits my taste just fine,” Sawyer told me. Sophie started ordering stuff in rapid fire Khamer, and showed us to a table. Shortly, large plates of food were brought out for us along with bottles of Mekhong and Singha beer.

The food wasn’t bad, but was a little spicy. I had a lot of Mexican food while in California, so it wasn’t too bad. I was careful of the Mekhong tonight, as my head had finally cleared up, and the shakes had pretty much gone away. I stuck with the beer.

After we finished dinner, the place started getting pretty noisy, as the band had started to play, and all the guys drinking didn’t help. Some were dancing and others were singing along with the band. I was ready to look for someplace a little quieter.

“Is there any place quieter?” I asked, when the noise level went down for a few seconds.

“There’s another club a few buildings down the street. It’s a dance club / bar. You can’t pick up any of the club’s dancers, though. They’re all in costume and easy to recognize. They do a lot of traditional Thai and Khamer dances there, and the music is all acoustical,” Sawyer told me. “The girls that dance there are some of the best looking women around, but they aren’t allowed to go out with anyone. A lot of other girls go there also to dance. You can sometimes pick up one of them.”

“What’s the name of this place?” I asked.

“It’s called the San-Ma-Kee,” he told me.

“What he want?” Sophie asked.

“He want’s someplace quieter,” Sawyer told her. “I told him about the San-Ma-Kee.”

“Yes, Sanmakee, we go!” Sophie said, and got up from the table.

“Guess I have my marching orders,” Sawyer said with a grin. We finished our drinks, paid our tab, and left the noise behind.

We went up the street about a block. The building there took up the whole block and had a number of stores on the ground floor with living quarters above. Most of the stores were either closed or closing by now. The storefront in the center of the block was an empty space. Lights were on there and the back was open to a courtyard behind it. We passed through this space and entered the courtyard.

The club was on the opposite side of the courtyard and there were stairs from the courtyard leading to the living quarters above. There was a veranda on the second story that went all the way around all four sides of the building giving access to the individual rooms. We passed a flower garden and two trees in the middle of the courtyard, as we crossed it and entered the dance club.

It was somewhat smoky inside, and there was a Thai band playing music plus girls in traditional Thai / Khamer costumes were dancing. We moved to an empty table and sat down. Sophie signaled a waitress and ordered us some drinks.

I noticed right away that the girls dancing were some of the loveliest women that I had seen either in Korat or here. Their hair appeared to be professionally done, and they had on some light makeup. Their costumes were quite beautiful and appeared to be very expensive.

The band that was playing was made up of a number of instruments that I had never seen before. I learned all of these names later when learning Thai, as my teacher was very into traditional Thai music and dancing. This is what I saw. In the center of the stage, a woman sat playing an instrument called a JAKAE. It’s a kind of floor zither with three strings and is plucked with a bone pick.

Next were two xylophone type instruments made with wooden bars. The RANAD-EK being high pitched and the RANAD-THUME being low pitched. They are played with either plain wooden sticks, or at other times with padded sticks. These were the lead instruments of the band.

Behind them were two instruments called GONG-WONG. They have a circular frame work with 16 or 18 special gongs suspended from the frame. Again there was a high pitch instrument and a low pitch instrument.

There were two men playing double-ended barrel drums called GLONG-KHAEK. They are played at both ends. Again one was high pitch and the other low pitch.

There were also two people playing small hand cymbals called CHING. Lastly there was one man playing a bamboo recorder type instrument called a KHLUI.

We had only been sitting there drinking and watching the dancers for a short time, when a young woman came over and said something to Sophie.

“We go dance,” Sophie informed Sawyer, as she got up and took the other woman’s hand. By the time they reached the dance floor, the current dance was over, and all of the club’s dancers left to take a break.

The floor then filled up with the other women in the club. When the music started again, they all started to dance. They weren’t quite as graceful as the club’s dancers, but all of them appeared to be having a fine time. They danced for two numbers before the musicians also took a break, and all of the women returned to their tables and those they were with. Sophie brought the other young woman back with her.

“This Suenee Sa,” she told us, and indicated for the other woman to sit next to me.

Suenee Sa appeared to be pretty much your normal Thai girl. She was a little taller than most at about 5’-2”. She was very conservatively dressed in a blouse and skirt. She also appeared to have a better figure than many of the thin women I had seen here. She had long black hair and big brown almond eyes in an oval face.

“Sawat Dee Ka,” she said softly, and waied before taking her seat beside me.

“Sawat Dee Khrap,” I answered, and tried to wai. I had figured out that much from watching and listening to others. Plus we’d had a short orientation class in Thai culture the day that I arrived.

“Would you like a drink?” I asked in English, as I didn’t have the words in Thai, and certainly not in Khamer.

“Yes, thank you,” she answered in very good English. “Cola.”

I got the attention of one of the waitresses and ordered her a cola. She had certainly surprised me with her English.

“Do you dance?” she asked, after we had sipped our drinks for a while.

“No, I’ve only been in country a few days, and don’t know any of the dances,” I told her, slightly embarrassed and not really sure why, but I didn’t want to appear to be stupid to this young woman.

“I will be glad to teach you,” she volunteered.

“Thank you, but I won’t be here very long,” I told her. Sophie broke in then with a rush of words in Thai, none of which I could understand.

“Oh, I see,” Suenee said, when Sophie was finished. She sounded very disappointed.

In the meantime, some of the other women there had brought out an old portable gramophone, and set it up on the stage where the band had been playing. They wound it up and put on a record. The volume of sound was really quite good when they opened the doors of the case. They played a number of recordings of popular western dance music.

Sophie immediately pulled Sawyer up from the table, to headed for the dance floor.

“Can you dance like this?” Suenee asked me, quietly.

“Yes,” I replied, as I helped her up, and we also went out on the dance floor. When I took her in my arms, I immediately knew that this was a young woman with a fine figure, and not some skinny country girl pretending to be a woman.

Suenee pressed herself against me, as I put an arm around her waist, and we began to slow dance. I could feel her breasts pressed against me, and she had her head on my shoulder, as she swayed in my arms.

We danced until all of the available records had been played, maybe fifteen minutes. The gramophone was then closed and removed before the band and the dancers returned. Suenee and I were both a little flustered and breathless, when we parted and returned to the table. I helped her into her chair when we got there.

Suenee leaned over and spoke to Sophie, who had returned earlier with Sawyer. Suenee seemed very disturbed, as she spoke to the other woman. After a short time, Sophie started to giggle, like a young girl. Suenee appeared to be very upset by this, and Sophie quickly returned to a serious expression on seeing this before she turned to me.

“Suenee wants you to go home with her,” Sophie told me, “But she is too embarrassed to ask you.” She giggled again then. I turned to look at MSG Sawyer, but he was just grinning.

“It looks like you have a very proper girl,” he told me. “Go ahead, but be back in the morning by eight. I’ll see about arranging a ride out to the camp. It will be better to fly out, as the road can be very unpredictable,” he told me. He then got up and put money on the table, to take care of our drinks before he led Sophie out.