Soon after noon chow on a June afternoon in 1967, a small convoy began forming outside the 41st Signal Battalion (Combat Area) headquarters in Qui Nhon, Vietnam. This voluntary civic action operation consisted of a few officers and 75 enlisted men riding in a couple of deuce-and-a-half trucks. The convoy moved out through Qui Nhon toward the isolated village of Phu Cat.

The plan was to visit the families of wounded and KIA members of the irregular South Vietnamese forces in Phu Cat. Irregulars were the fellows who wore black pajamas and carried weapons. They lived at home with their families, farmed during the day and fought the attacking VC at night.

When the convoy arrived, a number of widows and children were waiting. At first apprehensive, shy and unaccustomed to being around Americans, they soon welcomed the soldiers, delighted to receive such gifts as cooking oil, materials for new clothes, powdered milk, soap, toys, candy and chewing gum.

I rode at the tail of the convoy that evening, knowing that the next day I would leave Vietnam for a flight home. My year in Vietnam was completed. Just that morning I had conducted three general Protestant worship services. Through the year I had traveled many miles by land and air, led men in many worship services, visited, prayed and counseled with them. We had dealt with their fears, hurts and sorrows, trying to help them find answers to whatever questions and problems they had.

Those were my duties as a chaplain, but there was another side to my life in Vietnam just as there has always been another side to Vietnam — little of which has been told. The civic action trip that day was typical of the kind of activity that had consumed a goodly portion of my time and energy. The other side to my life in Vietnam cuts across many differences among people and proves again that most American GIs have hearts as big as the great outdoors.

Upon arriving in Saigon in July 1966, I had learned that my assignment was the 41st Signal Battalion with headquarters in Qui Nhon. My parish consisted of 4,000 men scattered all over the northern part of South Vietnam.

At Qui Nhon I found the chaplain’s office filled with boxes. My predecessor had already rotated to the States. During his year in Vietnam the men of the unit had become involved with a local orphanage and a leprosarium. The GIs had provided cash, labor and love. In addition, they made contact with individuals and groups in the United States who sent boxes of supplies, but delivery to the intended recipients had stopped with the chaplain’s departure.

On my first Sunday afternoon, my assistant, two other soldiers and I loaded the trailer of the chaplain’s vehicle with boxes for a trip to Vien Duc Anh Bae Ae orphanage in Qui Nhon. The unit had more or less adopted this Catholic-run orphanage. Each payday the men made voluntary donations to an orphanage fund. Some spent their free time playing with the children and doing odd jobs.

The nuns always welcomed visitors, and the children greeted us with smiles. Some were orphans, but others had been abandoned. Here, we were astonished to learn that some mothers gave up their children because they loved them. They simply could not provide for the physical needs of their children in the way the orphanage could.

The boxes on that day contained children’s clothing of all descriptions — used, but very clean and usable — as well as toys, dolls and different kinds of stuffed animals that made the young hearts glad. The soldiers got red in the face blowing up balloons. The most popular items were the candy and chewing gum.

During the following week, some of the GIs decided they would also like to deliver boxes to another Catholic orphanage in Qui Nhon. That next Sunday afternoon, we loaded the vehicle and visited the 176 children, ranging in age from 3 months to 17 years, who lived there. We heard stories of the VC torturing some of the children in their homes in order to get the parents’ cooperation. Several children had had toes removed to coerce the parents. One 2-year-old girl there was being adopted by a U.S. Army sergeant and was to leave with him the following month for the United States. On that day, though, all was forgotten except the excitement of the boxes from America brought by the soldiers.

A few days later, the GIs and I traveled about three miles down the coast from Qui Nhon to the Qui Hoa leprosarium — one of the cleanest places in Vietnam. There a person could relax and enjoy a swim in the South China Sea. More than 900 men and women who had been stricken with the dreaded disease of leprosy lived there. Many no longer had fingers or toes. One man had a hole for a nose. All seemed very content to be living at the leprosarium. Those who were able to work took part in ongoing projects on the grounds. The residents enjoyed games of checkers, chess and sometimes cards. A snack bar had been built for them by a military police unit. Many lived in dormitory-type facilities, but some families lived in beautiful small houses built with funds from American military units. More than 20 cottages had been constructed with donations from the GIs. The 41st Signal Battalion was already named on the dedication plaque of one house, and funds for the construction of another house were donated a couple of months later. U.S. military doctors and other medical personnel were giving a part of their free time to treat the leprosy-afflicted people.

Revenue for the civic action fund came from voluntary donations from men in the participating units, who were all encouraged to give regularly to the fund — however much or little they could afford — and to be on the lookout for worthy causes that the fund could help.The civic action fund council, made up of representatives from each participating unit, proposed to use the money to give assistance and undertake projects where the need was greatest and the most good could be accomplished. We distributed a newsletter on paydays to keep the men well informed.

Donations were also received from individuals and organizations back home. Various Girl Scout troops had sent checks. A crisp, new $20 bill came from a lady in Eau Claire, Wis. The Safety Patrol of Gates-Chili Junior High School in Rochester, N.Y., sent a check for $16. A group of young people in Pennsylvania had a fair and raised $17 to be used in helping some children in Vietnam. A check was received in memory of Chaplain Paul Pease, a former unit chaplain who had died suddenly of a heart attack about six months after leaving Vietnam. During his tour he had led a number of projects to help the children there.

As the money in the voluntary civic action fund increased, so did the number of boxes of goods. Between October 1, 1966, and January 31, 1967, we delivered more than 50 boxes of new and used clothing, toilet articles, toys, candy, food and many other items to the Vien Duc Anh Bae Ae orphanage alone. The needy Vietnamese children greatly enjoyed the toys and the enclosed big bag of candy suckers. The items of clothing were gladly worn by orphan children and the children of some impoverished Vietnamese families.

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