I was told by the RSM to check the roster daily (now its every 5 minutes) to see what duties I had. After 2.5 hrs scrutinising I eventually found out I had night patrol on the 28th of April. I told the RSM I appreciated the rest as it would only take me 24 hrs to get my gear fixed up.

After a few hours I found out to my horror we were inspected before the patrol commenced. Passing this ordeal (with the exception of a haircut) we proceeded to the magnificent city of Vungers, city of many Aromatic odours. Around some place they called 100P Alley and in the central markets, these odours were in abundance and very fragrant. After losing my tea in some side street (which was quickly devoured by some funny beast they implied was a canine) we proceeded on a foot patrol through the local pubs, where, with some older members in-country, I encountered the local maidens who appeared very friendly. (I thought they were waitresses)

I was given a glass of COCA-COLA by one of these friendly maidens, when I noticed a very small glass they were sipping out of. After investigation I found it was called SAIGON TEA. It must have been an expensive brand judging from the amount GIs were paying for it. I noticed also there was a lack of milk and sugar to go with it.

We then continued our patrol around to some place they called the WASHINGTON Steam Bath and Massage (which was out of bounds). We commenced a search of it and I was amazed at the Vietnamese system of massaging. I never realised how slack the masseurs were back home. There were even a few methods added which I haven't time to detail.

We continued our patrol in the vehicle and then my offsider says 'Let's go down to the PMOs for a goffer'. I thought the Post Masters Office was a strange place for a soft drink.

After arriving at the PMO (Provost Marshal's Office to the uneducated). I was surprised to see all these chaps with strange looking black helmets and large sticks on their sides. As soon as one said 'God damn and Chicken Shit', I remembered I had seen them on the movies back home, they were "Cowboys". We were introduced to each other and then everybody rushed around singing out "10.33". But on looking at my watch I saw it was only 9.35pm. After nearly being run over by about 3 jeeps with lights flashing and sirens blaring, I came to the conclusion it was some kind of an emergency.

I jumped into our vehicles and was very impressed at the speed in which we arrived at some place they called the 'BONG LAI', where it appeared we were going to break up a "two-up" game, by the size of the crowd that had gathered in a circle. There were also some other chaps surging around in a green and white vehicle. By thier uniform I thought they were Vietnamese Airforce, although I thought it strange at the time that they had white shirts on. These gentlemen greatly impressed the local populace by pulling thier pistols out and waving them around.

Eventually "it" was found to be in the centre of the crowd. Some chap dressed in Indian type clothes and a Cherokee hat band and an attractive young lady gesticulating with a broken beer bottle. It seemed purely a simple domestic problem as to why he had broken the beer bottle. I later found out it was on his head. We took the male person, whom I was amazed to find out was an Australian, back to his Unit with two pieces of paper, we handed these to his Duty Officer. (A type of Military Police courtesy card I thought they were.)

We again resumed our patrol with nothing much to do except assuring people that it was 2200 hrs. (Surely people know what time the pub closes without us telling them all the time.)

Eventually the town had retired and I was driven to the American Airfield, for what I thought was an urgent call from our leader. It was "Oommdidoomph and Bizzo Anzac". I was driven into a kitchen and to my surprise given a free meal. After an hourly discussion of the nights happenings, we returned to our Unit lines and I commenced a search looking for my bed. The power being well saved within the Unit because only about 2 lights worked in the hut.

PS. My second patrol wasn't much different.

"Bat" ONLEY