Memories hang like ornaments. ∼ Caleb Rivers
Tom Keating, a writer, served in the United States Army, Long Binh in the Republic of Vietnam, from 1969 to 1970. He served with the 47th Military History Detachment, attached to the Headquarters and Headquarters Company, 1st Logistical Command, and Headquarters Company, US Army Vietnam, (USARV) also in Long Binh. Twice awarded the Army Commendation Medal for his service in-country.
Tom has shared this memory, please enjoy it.
Christmas Card Memories
Tom Keating
Earlier this month, I was rummaging through our Christmas ornaments boxes, getting them out to put on the tree. I spotted a white envelope among the globes and handmade ornaments. The word “Ahn” written on it.
Opening it, I saw that it was the Vietnamese Christmas card my friend Ahn gave me. She was a Vietnamese woman I knew over fifty years ago when I was serving in the Vietnam War.
Ahn worked on our base doing laundry for us GIs. She was a Catholic, and when she discovered I was too, (she saw rosary beads on my bunk that my Dad gave me) we bonded and became friends.
She would come to the base main gate, get searched by a Vietnamese Military Policeman, sign in and head to whichever group of barracks (“hooches”) she worked in.
She was a small woman, wearing a long white sleeved blouse, black slacks, sandals, and a gold cross on a chain around her neck. Her partner was a woman named Ut, a Buddhist.
They did our laundry, cleaning floors, and shining boots for about $10 a month.
When she found out I was also Catholic, we began a friendship that lasted while I was in-country. She always asked me what saints’ day it was, and did I go to Mass on Sunday. My answer to both were no, because I had left religion behind when I joined the Army. The brutality of infantry training drove any remnant of faith out of me. But she did not know that and continued to poke me about being a Catholic.
Her religion was an important part of her identity, in a country of Buddhists. She told me that her family had escaped from North Vietnam in 1955, after the partition of the country into North and South Vietnam. Being Catholics, they feared what the communists would do to them. They came to Saigon, (now Ho Chi Minh City) which had a large Catholic population. She was married, and her husband was in the South Vietnamese Army..
Just before Christmas in 1969, she gave me this card. It depicted a young Vietnamese woman, dressed in the traditional Áo Dài and wearing a Nón lá, the conical hat, crossing over a small pond, and a great palm tree in the background. Below the artwork the words, Mừng Lễ Giáng Sinh, was printed, which is Vietnamese for Merry Christmas” I gave her a Christmas card showing Santa and his sleigh in the snow. I had to explain what snow was to her.
My Christmas dinner was in a Mess Hall decorated with holiday lights and cardboard Santas and reindeers on the walls.
AFVN radio played Big Crosby, Andy Williams, and Nat King Cole holiday songs while we ate. The chaplain held an outdoor Mass on Christmas Eve, up at the headquarters parade ground. It was a hot muggy night, not the December cold and snowy of New England.
The day after Christmas, Ahn was pleased when I told her about going to the evening Mass, and then she asked me what saint’s day it was today. I knew it was Saint Stephen from the chaplain’s sermon, so I told her. She smiled at me, nodded, and started sweeping the floor.
I had not thought of Ahn or that strange Christmas for fifty five years, and I wondered what happened to her after the war. I put the card back in its envelope and placed it on my Christmas tree up near the angel.
Tom and his wife at home
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Very cool story, Tom.
Thanks for sharing it, Joe.
Merry Christmas to you, both.
Merry Christmas to you also, Bob.