102. ⛩ Tokyo, Nihon ~ August, 1966 The Land of the Rising Sun 日本

It’s now the third full day of our unexpected holiday in Japan. Traveling with me into Tokyo this morning were 2 fellow crewmen, including Bill, the other, I’ll name Frank.  

With the knowledge that our ship’s Officers were staying in hotel rooms in (any)town by now and with the hull and such under repair, we were on free time to play here in Japan.

There was no doubt of our shared excitement to be taking the Shinkansen or better known to us Westerners as the ‘bullet train’.  This high-speed rail system began in Japan a mere two years before I would be a passenger on it.  And at that time (when I was there), it was the fastest train service in the world!

I think it was the Tama-Plaza station where we caught our train.  The Japanese National Railways’ New Tokaido Line would take us on a thrilling journey for approximately 29 kilometers from the station in Yokohama, to our destination of Tokyo.

 🚢Not having to return to the Trans Western every morning made this feel like a real vacation, one that normally we’d have to pay for … instead we were the ones being paid!  I liked how this was working out.

Beautiful scenery began with the majestic Mt. Fuji, a view to behold indeed and, perhaps it was magical because I knew it to be Mt. Fuji and that I was actually in Japan, viewing it with my own eyes.

Now I’m being reminded by my editor about the tragedy of flight 911.  Not even 6 months prior to my seeing this world famous mountain, a BOAC airliner (and 3 others in this year, 1966) had crashed, killing all on board.  

Flight 911 had departed in the early afternoon from Tokyo International Airport and was barely 15 minutes into flight when, after experiencing severe turbulence, the Boeing 707 jetliner literally began separating from itself in many pieces.  

It had been witnessed, the aircraft was trailing white vapor.  Then it was losing altitude and pieces of it began to breakaway.  It was almost immediately rumored, the pilots wanted to fly a little closer to the mountain to show it off to the passengers.  Talk about mixed emotions when looking upon what would remain a beautiful sight.

Arrived Shinjuku Station and the view out my window has set me up for immediate speechlessness.  Looking at all there is to see and we’re not even out and about in the city yet!  My mind is nearly blown!  Observing my surroundings I see the sheer busyness, the hustle and the whirl of life in motion yet, I feel it’s presented in near perfect grace.  

I see no one pushing their way through the crowd trying to make his train …there’s no shouting or vulgar language that I can hear; certainly would have, if this were Brooklyn or Bombay.

The native commuters seemed to move with light-footedness, the female passengers poised and all at once, moving efficiently.  Can you picture this?  Altogether their fluidity of movement had me feeling as though I may vanish into the floor if I didn’t move my butt as gracefully and decidedly swift as they.

We made our way to the outside of the station and on to Koshu-Kaido Avenue.  From here the three of us ambled around.  Walking just to absorb the sights, smells and sounds of this beguiling metropolis.  Wandering aimlessly in a city we know totally nothing about save for our hopes of amazing food, great beers and well, I’m ready for a nap! 

This is so cool, I’m absolutely drawn in by the pure foreignness of what I could see and process in my mind.  Business men all suited up, mostly in western business attire, the ladies mostly in traditional dress, all the busy people.  The hustle & bustle, we watched as the city expanded & contracted in heartbeat; it felt almost dreamlike.

We spotted a man who had fallen down and the three of us, thinking alike, rushed towards him in assist mode.  People who saw us in deliberate attempt were quick to warn us,  leave him be.  One had said, “The police help the man, not us.”  I know I felt extremely awkward just leaving him there on the sidewalk.  I guessed he wouldn’t be trampled in their seemingly effortless steps … they’d just walk around him.

The three of us kept tight company, originally thinking safety in numbers.  Although we were cruising around in a war zone not that long ago, this city had an entirely different vibe to it.  It wasn’t frightful, just an altered state of humanity, it was … remarkable.

Our bellies told us it was time to eat some of those foods we were smelling along our aimless path.  Yes indeed, a nice cold Japanese beer and a delicious meal was the immediate plan.  We came across a large restaurant in only moments.  

We were seated almost immediately.  I examined the menu which was written in Japanese of course but then I saw beneath each entry was, in smaller letters, the dish description in English.  Just then Frank burst out with, “Oh thank goodness!”  I know I thought the same.  Bill and I nodded to one another and to Frank.  We confidently placed our orders, beers included.

First the ice cold Sapporo beers were at our table almost immediately.  Next to arrive at the table was the place-settings; ours included silverware to go with the chopsticks.  They must’ve known what would be next.

When our dishes arrived, we tried keenly to use the chopsticks but alas, our attempts were causing much laughter and not enough food going in!  Bill actually managed for a few moments to look like he knew what he was doing but quickly gave in to the fork as Frank and I already had.  Delicious!  Worth every penny!  Wonderful!

In complete agreement after our very filling meal, we hailed a taxi and asked him to take us to a decent hotel where we would get a good night’s sleep.  He seemed to know exactly where to take us.

We would stay in Tokyo for the next two days & nights.

👘

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94. Anchors Up! Onward to Subic Bay

Easy targets required a strategic move …

Our ship, along with several others were instructed to relocate immediately.  In the first place we were never in a favorable location along the Vietnamese coastline but there we were, sitting ducks just waiting to get blown out of the water.  With this sudden (?) urgency our ships made haste!  

Traveling over 1000 nautical miles and 4+ days later, we arrive at Subic Bay, an American Naval base in the Philippines.  Our ship would remain here for a few weeks; we were still loaded with the greater percentage of Napalm cargo.  

While docked here, my normal work routine continued and so did the shore visits.  I remember the first time out.  For a day trip into Manila, a bunch of us would gather to take an air-conditioned bus ride into the city.  Feeling excitement once more for a place I’d never been, I took a seat on the bus and for the most part, would quietly gaze out the window.  I looked back only for a moment to see my ship get left behind.

I admired the coconut trees (reminder of home) situated in the back and forefront of passing scenery along open spaces.  There were plenty of farm lands most of which were being toiled by beasts of burden & human labor alike.  

We passed a little village or three and the roads shaped up nicely.  Manila, she formed  gradually in the near distance.  In eager focus on what lay ahead, I noticed tall buildings rising as we drew near and before I knew it, we’d arrived.

There were these brightly painted bus-like modes of transportation driving all over the place and I tell ya, what a site to see!  At the very moment of my wonderment, I overheard someone on our bus say to another curious passenger, “…these are called Jeepney.”  Besides being colorful, there were balloons, flowerpots and toys on sticks hanging off the sides and well, so much more including people!

We get off somewhere in what felt like the middle of town and began walking around.  It didn’t take long at all to feel a bit weary in this heat.  We had been cruising in and out of shops and eventually our only focus became search for the nearest bar and frankly, that wasn’t hard to do.

I was all but soaking wet and yes, it was definitely time to have an ice cold beer.  Truth be told, one didn’t even have to walk anywhere, simply being outside was enough to do the trick!  We’d leave one bar to go into another couple of shops only to make our way to the next bar along an unplanned route.  It was just hot and I was constantly thirsty for the next cold beer.

Something else I can clearly recall is just how nice the people seemed to be.  I mean they had a relaxed feeling about them and a smile was received from nearly everyone I made eye contact with.

One week later we had to return to one of the Vietnamese ‘parking lots’ as our cargo was once again needed.

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93. Children Shouldn’t Play With Hand Grenades

In bewildering fascination, Saigon, formerly the capital of French Indochina, held me captive for about a week.  The rich blend of people, some in fancy western threads and others staying true to their native attire, were walking about in a fairly normal city scene.  

Some were shuttled around in decent cars and yes, there were clunkers to be seen as well.  Others took cyclos without a second thought and there were quite a few people going about on bicycles.  Then of course there were the troops going from here to there on foot and in military transport.

The smells coming from restaurants, fresh food vendors and street-food stalls were definitely interesting and I found some delicious too.

While sitting in a local bar on yet another sweltering hot evening, engaged in the usual sipping of ice cold beer, I was startled by what I was certain to be the sound of an explosion.  A little shaken to be sure but more so curious, I walked over to the open doorway and peered out.  A couple of more distant bangs followed.

The scene outside was that of the city’s people going about their daily routines, intermixed with our G.I.s and some foreign visitors … and children playing around the streets.  I then heard a siren in the distance.

Seeing nothing out of the ordinary I returned to my table, not really sure what to think or how to react.  I say this because most everyone else in the bar seemed relatively calm about the boom and bangs.   

Timing such as it was, these bangs became the discussion at our table.  My friends and I were told by a couple of Marines standing at the bar, to be aware of the children and youthful people here; perhaps an occasional grandparent too.  They must’ve sensed my concern.  

There have been occasions wherein children pretending to play ball outside, were actually culprits of (most likely forced) no good actions.  They were usually near an establishment where a good number of G.I.s were to be found.  A ‘ball’ would roll inside.  

Now either someone will pick it up and roll it back outside or it was ignored but sometimes, before one could realize it, kaboom!  Not only the visually dense population of American and Allied troops but the average citizen of South Việt Nam, all were targets in this damned war.  

And as was the wartime usual, you couldn’t really trust anyone.  Decidedly we were unable to distinguish the difference between North and South Vietnamese citizens; who had the grenade … or worse?

As if on cue, a ball rolled in through the open doorway and right then and there, my heart stopped beating.  I was sure of it because I don’t remember taking another single breath!

After what seemed like forever but only a moment or two later, a youthful lad came in after it and took it back out straight away.  Clearly I’m still here to say, that wasn’t a hand-grenade, or for that matter any other exploding device that evening.

Towards the end of our Việt Nam stopover I wanted to stay back in the city for an overnight.  Though I knew I’d have to rise before the morning sun to get back to the ship via the 5a boat at shore, I will admit I chose to engage a female companion and so retained a hotel room.  

It was after only a few minutes of being in this room (probably for the best) when the moment about to be, was disturbed.  There was sudden (again with the heart-stopping) and loud non-stop banging.  I instantly opened the door to see guns staring me down.  

There were 4 that I could see and two of them were pushing their way into my room; these gunslingers didn’t wait for an invitation to enter.  They briefly looked around.  I definitely wasn’t going to argue or question these 2 Vietnamese (n or s? don’t know) soldiers with -credit to my imagination- itchy trigger-fingers on those cold & scary (what looked like) AK-47s, surely loaded and ready to shoot!

No English was spoken and they left shortly after arrival, taking the girl with them.  The only conclusion I arrived at was the girl must’ve been North Vietnamese, posing as a South Vietnamese family girl.  Or was it the other way around?

Okay I’d finally had enough of my own shenanigans; no more shore time for this boy, I would stay in the ship for our remainder of this Việt Nam stopover.

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