By Pat Porter

I began my tour in Vietnam 50 years ago this year (2021). It was late in 1971, November specifically, when I arrived in country. I returned home in November 1972, and with the peace accord being signed in January 1973, my tour spanned nearly all of the last year of the war. I was assigned to a MACV team (Military Assistance Command Vietnam) in Darlac Province, in the town of Ban Me Thuot. Darlac Province is in the central highlands area of Vietnam and its western side bordered Cambodia. If you look on a google map today, the names appear as “Dak Lak” Province and “Buon Ma Thuot”.

The MACV team consisted of both military and civilian advisors to the South Vietnamese. The civilian side included advisors regarding various segments of local government operations. My role was artillery advisor to South Vietnamese units operating in the province. That changed after a few weeks as enemy activity and engagement in Darlac had diminished and remained low for most of my tour.  So, I was reassigned to the Province Operations Staff.

The beginning of my tour was apparently near the end of new MACV assignment tours in Vietnam, as within a few months of my arrival, when a team member completed their tour and departed, no replacement ever arrived. Our initial team was a staff of around 40-50. By the time I left in November 1972 we had less than 10. Of course, this was part of the continuing drawdown that President Nixon had initiated several years earlier. Our Province Commander, a Colonel, completed his tour a few months after I arrived, but was replaced by a LT Colonel.

In Province Operations, we worked with South Vietnamese counterparts to help plan, coordinate, and report on military operations in the Province, both US and ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam – acronym for the South Vietnam ground forces). However, at that time, there were no active US combat units in the province, only ARVN units. Staff roles overlapped, with everyone helping with whatever was required, especially more so as the year progressed and there were fewer of us. We made frequent trips to various villages and to the 4-district headquarters in Darlac. Each district had a small American military advisory team working directly with South Vietnamese units operating in the district.

One of our other frequent activities was coordinating and flying on intelligence gathering and observation missions on Huey UH1 helicopters. Darlac Province physically spanned nearly the width of the country, coming within approximately 20 miles of the South China Sea shoreline on its eastern side and bordering Cambodia on the west. Yet, all our intel missions focused to the west and northwest of Ban Me Thuot, all the way to the Cambodian border. This area had been deemed by both US and ARVN highest level intelligence staff as an optimal and likely invasion corridor if the NVA (North Vietnamese Army, also referred to as PAVN – People’s Army of Vietnam) were to mount a major offensive into South Vietnam. It was a high priority to ensure there was advance knowledge of any activity to provide early warning and plenty of time for countermeasure preparations. However, we never picked up any visuals or other intel indicating any significant NVA or VC (VietCong – communist guerrilla forces) activity during our surveillance flights of that area.

As I mentioned earlier, the level of enemy activity and engagement in Darlac was very low during 1972. Even during the NVA “Easter Offensive” in April 1972, the NVA activity in the central highlands focused on areas much further north such as Kontum and didn’t reach Darlac. The year continued with minimal enemy activity. Until October.

The Kissinger peace talks were in high gear in the fall of 1972. This apparently triggered NVA and VC offensives in many areas of Vietnam, presumably to improve their negotiating leverage regarding a peace accord. By that time, in Darlac, only one of the 4 districts still had an American MACV team and that happened to be the one where enemy activity picked up. The “team” still in the district was one American Officer, a Major. As activity intensified, he requested additional help from Province Headquarters. I volunteered and spent about 3 days in the district with him, helping advise local ARVN units and coordinating US air support. Eventually, ARVN forces prevailed, and the enemy withdrew from the area. I then returned to Province Headquarters and it was only a week or so later that I completed my tour and headed home.

A year and a half later, in 1974, my service obligation was complete, and I decided to join the civilian world and enrolled in a graduate program at Virginia Tech. By early 1975, I was very focused and engaged in my graduate studies. Vietnam was a distant memory, with little occasion or desire to recollect. But then in late March, my attention was drawn to news reports of the major NVA invasion into South Vietnam. I remember being stunned and dismayed by the news. What happened to the 1973 peace accord? Surely South Vietnam will prevail? And then, as it progressed, and the country fell – how did it happen so quickly? At the time, I was too consumed with graduate studies to focus on the details of what happened. It was not until many years later that I did some research on the downfall and stumbled upon a stunning revelation.

Historical accounts indicate that in late December 1974, North Vietnam broke the 1973 peace accord by initiating an offensive in Phuoc Long Province, which is about 90 miles north of Saigon. By January 6, 1975, they had taken the province. This was followed by several months of relative quiet with no additional offensive activity, presumably while North Vietnam further strategized on its next move. 

That next move came in early March with an NVA invasion into Darlac Province. Then on March 10 the NVA began a direct assault on Ban Me Thuot. “WHAT!!??”

That was my reaction when I discovered this. The offensive thrust was via the same strategic west-northwest corridor we had so diligently surveilled for enemy activity/intelligence in 1972, because it was deemed a likely invasion path. My thought was – “Did South Vietnam not continue surveillance and intelligence gathering on this area, given its strategic importance as a likely invasion route?”    I found that apparently, they did, but did not act on the intelligence:

Per Military.wikia.org, re The Battle of Ban Me Thuot:

“In the days leading up to the assault on Ban Me Thuot, ARVN Major General Pham Van Phu repeatedly ignored intelligence which showed the presence of several North Vietnamese combat divisions around the district.”

“In late February, North Vietnamese artillery shells began to rain down on Pleiku, which convinced General Phu that the North Vietnamese would attack Pleiku instead of Ban Me Thuot. Indeed, the movements around Pleiku and Kontum during the month of February were designed by the North Vietnamese Tay Nguyen Front to fool South Vietnamese military commanders in the Central Highlands.”

Ban Me Thuot fell within a week.

This turned out to be the main strategic invasion thrust by the NVA, which then led to the collapse of the central highlands region. The invasion continued from there and by April 30, Saigon and the entire country had fallen, and helicopters were airlifting people off the roof of the US Embassy.

It was sad, tragic, and for me personally, a strangely ironic final conclusion to the Vietnam War.

     I love skiing and look forward to a ski trip every winter. But, that wasn’t always the case. For many years, I had an intense dislike of skiing.

     It started in the winter of 1968 – Cow Year at West Point. One lackluster gloom period Saturday, looking for something fun to do, several company classmates said, “Let’s go skiing”! I hedged on that, protesting that I didn’t know how (they had skied before). Growing up in Florida, skiing to me meant the waterborne type – I had done that. Finally, they persuaded me to go, with assurances such as, “It’s easy”; “We’ll show you how”. So, we headed off to the West Point ski slope.

     Those not familiar with West Point might be surprised to learn it has its own ski slope. Called the Victor Constant Ski Area, it was named in 1946 in memory of Captain S. Victor Constant, who was the coach of the West Point Ski team from 1943-46 and an instructor in the Civil and Military Engineering Department. In 1945, he supervised the construction of the ski slope with the help of WWII prisoners of war. 

During my time, Constant Ski Slope had a single chairlift and a beginner’s rope tow.

     We first checked out our equipment. Skiers will remember that ski equipment was still fairly primitive at that time. Skis were all wood, not the blend of various high-tech materials in today’s skis. They were straight and not shaped. Boots were hardened leather, and bindings were metal cables that strapped the boots to the skis. I’m not even sure what appropriate ski wear consisted of then, I just know I didn’t have any.

     After getting out on the slopes, my friends spent about 5 minutes showing me how to make a “pizza slice” shape with my skis and to place weight on one ski at a time to turn. Then, they headed to the chair lift, leaving me on the bunny hill at the rope tow and said something like “practice that and we’ll check back later”. First, I had to use the rope tow to get to the top of the bunny hill. They had mentioned that you just grab it, hang on and let it pull you to the top. However, it was not that easy. Riding a rope tow is a little like learning to drive a clutch transmission automobile – you have to apply pressure, just the right amount until it catches smoothly, but doesn’t slip or jerk. Also, you have to keep your skis positioned in the ruts in the snow that have already developed from previous skiers. The first try, I grabbed too quickly went a few feet and then tumbled to a face plant. Two or 3 tries later, I grabbed successfully and rode to the top. Of course, they had not mentioned anything about how to exit. Exiting the tow smoothly requires some good timing, balance and finesse. I timed, balanced and finessed it right into another face plant.

     Now at the top of the bunny hill, I was ready to ski down. I tried to remember how to do the pizza slice thing my friends had told me about and headed down. Or perhaps I should clarify – that’s literally “down”, as in travel a few yards, fall down. Get up, repeat. Once I got to the bottom, I repeated the whole scenario, without much improvement.

     My friends were back to check up on me every 10-15 minutes. I knew they meant well, and were trying to coach me, but they didn’t have the ski instructor skills necessary to get me properly trained. After about hour or so of this, I realized that my fashionable ski wear (thermal underwear, jeans, and Cadet Parka), was somewhat less than waterproof. I was soaking wet, freezing, and miserable. At the next rendezvous, I informed them that this was not fun, wasn’t working for me and I was done. They offered to take turns staying with me, but at that point I was no longer interested. I headed back to a hot shower and swore off skiing… for a while, anyway.

     There were two more outings. I went, against my better judgement, with a small group over spring break to a resort in Vermont. I did a little better, but still fell a lot. I even attempted the chairlift once and entertained nearby skiers with an acrobatic exit routine. The end of the day still resulted in being wet, freezing and miserable. At least, there was a big lodge to hang out in. I, and another in the group with comparable skills, ended up leaving early after one day. Then, in 1971, while stationed at Ft Carson, Co., I was once again coaxed onto the slopes by roommate skiers, who said they would show me what to do. In the 3 years that had elapsed since my last ski adventure, I had lost most of what little skill I had previously acquired, but not the results.

 After that, I really swore it off, and that lasted 15 years.

     Now fast forward to 1986. My skiing adventures were a distant unpleasant memory. However, at that time, my wife and I had some friends in our social circle that were skiers. I always remained quiet or just professed to being a non-skier in any discussion at gatherings, where the subject turned to skiing. But, in the winter of 1986, after listening many times to friends describing how much fun it was, I made a decision: I’m going to learn to ski – the right way.

     Shortly thereafter, that same winter, my wife and I headed off on a long weekend to a small North Carolina ski resort, Sapphire Valley.

I took 2 days of lessons with a personal instructor – someone that stayed with and “trained” me full time for those 2 days. The training kicked in and I “got it”. What a difference actual lessons and training made. This was indeed fun! I turned at that point from complete dislike to, “we need to start going out west to the big resorts”.

     That triggered annual ski trips out west for the next 34 years, missing going only a few times. Of course, there were more lessons to further improve skills in those first few trips. This year’s trip (2020) was just completed in early February. We covered a lot of ground over those 34 years, skiing at a variety of resorts in Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, Montana, New Mexico, Nevada and California. When the kids were younger, they went too – when we could fit the trip in as part of spring break.

     And it all started with that decision in 1986. I guess it reinforces those 5 P’s we all learned (Proper Planning Prevents Poor Performance). On those first few outings, I had not done any planning – I knew nothing about proper ski wear, didn’t plan for proper training, didn’t plan for ongoing proficiency assessment and development.

    I hope to continue to ski as long as possible. Most friends that ski started dropping out a few years ago: too old, too expensive, too cold, too much hassle, too tiring, too hard on the legs, too hard on the knees, and similar reasons. Aging does take its toll. On the most recent trip, a friend and I reminisced while riding the lifts about how the ski experience has changed for us. In our younger days, a ski trip was 6 days of skiing. Now, it’s 3. We would be at the lifts when they opened at 8:30 and catch a last ride up for one more run when they closed at 4:30. Now, we’re on the slopes at about 10:30 and done about 2:30-3:00. It’s still a lot of fun, just tempered a little for age and physical stamina.

     In regard to aging, I read about an interview a few years ago with Clint Eastwood. He was asked about advice for successful aging. He referred to advice he himself was given by an older friend, which was: “Don’t let the old man in”. So, I was both surprised and inspired to see a very recent article in USA Today with a picture of Eastwood on a ski slope – he is now 89 – and skiing! I guess he took his friend’s advice.

     That makes me wonder – will I still be able to ski at 89? Will I even want to, even if I’m able? Sounds crazy and that’s a good many years away yet, but maybe it could be possible if I can stay in shape and can stay healthy. Oh, and maybe I also need to ensure that I “Don’t let the old man in”!

Recently, I was looking for something, rummaging through some storage boxes in the basement. Before I found what I was looking for, I ran across an old work folder from the ‘80s. One of the items in the folder caught my eye, an internal corporate newsletter, dated 4^th Quarter, 1989. In it was an opinion article written by me, which I had long since forgotten.

At the time, I was the manager of an internal computer consulting department for The Coca-Cola Company in Atlanta. In those days, computers were still being deployed to desktops. We had not yet reached the point where a computer was considered an essential part of every professional employee job role. The department’s mission was to promote and assist in increasing employee and company productivity through increased use of computers. The newsletter was actually produced by my department and focused on computer topics for the edification of employees.

The article began with a perspective on the amazing growth of computer technology in the ‘80s. Then, it looked toward the new millennium – only 10 years away. What might it have in store for us? So, in the rest of the article I made some predictions regarding what we might expect in the way of computing technology advancements by the year 2000.

In re-reading the article I found myself drifting into a somewhat retrospective state and I began to reflect back to the beginning of my career interest in computers. That took me all the way back to Cow Year at West Point. One of my courses that year was titled “Computer Science Fundamentals”.

I think it was an elective course, but it may have been one of the core courses that we all had to take, can’t remember. It basically consisted of learning FORTRAN language programming, although the Academy referred to it as “CADETRAN”. Anyway, I really liked it and found that I had some talent for it. I made a mental note that the computer field might be something to pursue after an Army career.

My next encounter with computing technology was in 1970, at Fort Carson, Co., during my first Field Artillery assignment. Our 8-inch self-propelled howitzer unit was involved in field testing “FADAC” (Field Artillery Digital Automatic Computer). Classmate cannoneers reading this may also have encountered it. FADAC was a metal, olive drab box, containing a specialized computer, with a built-in keyboard and small screen. Its’ purpose was to calculate artillery fire direction values such as azimuth, charge, elevation, etc., based on feedback from the Forward Observer. In our tests we ran FADAC in parallel with our manual calculations. I recall that in just about every case the manual calculations team completed and had new fire direction values ready well ahead of the FADAC team. In those early days of computing technology capability and speed, I guess FADAC was not ready for prime time.

In 1974, at the end of my service obligation, I decided to change direction from an Army career and join the civilian world. Pondering “what next?”, I thought back to that “CADETRAN” course and decided to begin work toward an MS Computer Science degree at Virginia Tech. This was at a time when computing technology was still quite primitive. There weren’t any PC’s, the internet was years away, and no one had a cell phone. Most computers were behemoths that filled large room(s). Students still had to use punch cards to read programs into the computer. Remember those?

Degree completion took me into my corporate career in information technology. After a few years at Shell Oil, I moved on to Coca-Cola, where I spent the majority of my career. After 10 years at Coca-Cola, that brings us up to 1989 and that newsletter article. So, what did I predict in 1989 for the state of computing technology in year 2000?

1. A graphic user interface (Windows, MAC) becomes the universal PC standard (at the time there were numerous PC’s still using a DOS interface).
2. Standalone PC’s (which was mostly the case then) become fully networked.
3. Fingerprint scanning becomes the PC identity and logon standard.
4. Voice commands become the standard for PC control.
5. Email use explodes and becomes ubiquitous (email was very limited in 1989 and mostly on internal company mainframes).
6. Video files will be watchable on a PC and sent to others via email.
7. The rolodex becomes obsolete, along with significant reduction in paper filing.

                             

How’d I do? Blew #’s 3 & 4 but did reasonably well on the rest. However, even those two were still correct in one sense. They occurred a decade or so later than 2000 and for a different device – the cell phone. Both of those capabilities are now in use on cell phones, but have never become commonplace on PC’s.

There are numerous other key computing technology achievements in the last 30 years that I would not have even conceived of in 1989.

A few examples:

• The Internet
• Cell phones as computers, cameras, GPS units
• The degree of advancement in AI sophistication
• Google, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, YouTube, Amazon, Map routing and a myriad of other useful applications
• Flat monitors
• Thumb drives
• Broadband everywhere

Now, we’re in the 4^th quarter of 2019, so, what do I predict for 2030 and beyond? Nope, not going there! Let me share 3 historical predictions by noted experts that were spectacularly wrong:

• “There is no reason for any individual to have a computer in his home” – Ken Olson (Founder, Digital Equipment Corporation) – 1977
• “I predict the Internet will soon go spectacularly supernova and in 1996 catastrophically collapse” – Robert Metcalf (Inventor of Ethernet) – 1995
• “There is no chance that the IPhone is going to get any significant market share. No chance.” – Steve Ballmer (Former Microsoft CEO) – 2007

If the CEO of the world’s premier software company can botch a prediction that badly, I think I’ll just rest on the partial success of my 1989 predictions. Plus, I always keep in mind Yogi Berra’s wisdom, when he once said: “Predictions are hard, especially when they’re about the future”.