A WARNING LETTER FROM VIETNAM or HOW TO REPATRIATE YOUR VETERAN

[Wazza]

Australian Forces Vietnam

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

This is to inform you that during the month of ........, your son, husband, brother, friend or sweetheart etc., on completion of an arduous tour in the Republic of South Vietnam will be returning home to Australia. You should appreciate, that he is no longer the sweet, unspoilt boy who left home, fired with the patriotic fervour and zest for adventure, He is now orderly, probably wiser in the ways of the world and possibly very short-tempered.

This man has survived what the Far East has to offer; mud, rain, heat, dust, sand, loneliness and monsoons, not to mention a liberal sprinkling of typhoons and a tidal wave or two. Be he husband, sweetheart, friend, son or brother to you, he is still yours. He may look a little strange and act a little peculiar but this is to be expected after ????? months in South Vietnam.

Therefore, your attention is drawn to the following advice, to which you should take careful note and observe.

Get the women off the streets, hide all beer and other alcoholic beverages, put a chain around the fridge and lock the cow in the barn. One of the earliest indications of the changes in character will be periodic hot and cold flushes, accompanied by shortness of breath and trembling of the knees. This could be due to either malaria, the rigours of the Australian winter or to miniskirts, which he hasn't seen for a long, long time.

He will gaze in awe at blonde hair, blue eyes, clean sheets, draught beer, pubs and tight sweaters. Remember that his only contact with women has been the centre pages of Playboy magazine and he will probably think that all girls have staple marks on their stomachs. If you wish to disillusion him, do so gently.

Pay no attention when he smears soya sauce on his potatoes or mixes snails with his rice in the hope of making them taste better.

Refrain from saying anything about powdered C rations, spare ribs, dehydrated potatoes, weenies, fried rice, fresh milk, ice cream, and above all DO NOT mention or even hint at the subject of french bread and cold tea.

Be careful not to say, "Lets go for a walk", "I wish it would rain" or "Buy me Saigon Tea." This is important because his reaction will be most unpleasant.

Do not say anything to him if he constantly stares at such things as chairs, soft mattresses, smooth and wide roads or women with round eyes. If he stands muttering such phrases as "Choy Oy", "Moui Dong", "Suc Mau You", "Xin Loi", "Boom Boom", "Uc Dai Lai Number One", "Be Nie" or "Number Welve" and "Never Hatchie", ignore it.

DO NOT ask questions or argue with him when he asks for sulphur to put in his bath water, or if he continuously flushes toilets and gazes at it in wonder and fascination. Just go along with it and he will eventually get over it. Flushing toilets will become a source of constant wonder to him after he has overcome the initial fear of them. So if he grabs a shovel and heads for the backyard, merely direct him to the correct room and gently take the shovel from him.

If he walks across the garden and through the windows humour him. He doesn't trust the path; it could be mined.

Above all DO NOT ask him how the mail was over there, for he is liable to get violent and go into convulsions.

If he is reluctant to rise at a suitable hour, about midday, simply whisper "Light on the wire" and watch him leap out of bed with a strangled cry and grovel under the carpet.

Never ask him if it rains in Vietnam because he may answer you using offensive language. Similarly if you ask him "Are the women flat-chested? He will either laugh or cry. Neither is good for him.

Encourage him to drink out of a glass. If you give him a can, he will drink it certainly, but when he finishes he will fling the can over his shoulder with a roar of "Up the old red rooster and more piss" The furniture will suffer.

Force of habit will cause him to do some apparently odd things such as sleeping with his boots on, showering in public, swearing profoundly in front of his friends, grinding his cigarettes into the carpet and show a complete disregard for normal etiquette. He will constantly look at the trees, not because he is particularly fond of them, but because he suspects a sniper.

He will avoid all bus stops, because they have an unpleasant association with hand grenades; and if a litterbug throws something from a passing vehicle, he will scream loudly, "Grenade" and dive for the gutter or nearest cover. This can be quite amusing to any pedestrians.

Please explain to visitors that, if he wanders around the house with just a towel around his waist or wearing only underpants, he has not yet adjusted himself to the Australian way of life. That of wearing clothes all the time.

If you are in a car with him, you will have to remind him that we drive on the left-hand side of the road. If not, he will edge over to the right-hand side of the road all the time, with his hand on the horn. You may have to tell him that it is illegal to blow the horn excessively in Australia. If a postman blows his whistle, hang on, for you can expect a very sudden stop: in Vietnam a shower of bullets follows the second whistle blast.

When he wants a taxi, be kind and get him one, as he may stand on the edge of the road waving, as you would to say goodbye, and get abusive when they wave back at him. Upon finding him a cab, explain to him that the driver is not a cheat, or dinky dow, or number welve and that he will have to pay the price showing on the meter.

If he has a pained expression on his face and starts for the nearest bush fence or brick wall keep him moving until you can direct him to the nearest public toilet. This will save him attracting, unconsciously of course, undue attention to himself (Which he doesn't like anyway).

If he attempts to cross the road in heavy or even light traffic at any time or place, inform him about pedestrian crossings and traffic lights. They may save his life or prevent him from serious injury, as he has become indifferent to and completely oblivious of car horns, motor cycles, Lambrettas and horse drawn carts. He will try to cross by merely raising his hand as in the oath taking position and walk across the road like a prophet.

If you should arrange a meeting in a hotel lounge, don't be surprised if he takes you aside and before he starts to get fresh will say "Me like you but me no buy you Saigon tea". If when buying you a drink he shouts Somou Boubum, do not act surprised as he is merely ordering you a whisky and coke.

I trust this information is of value to you in your repatriation of our weary veteran.


MAILING THIS DOCUMENT TO LOVED ONES WAS COMPUSORY BEFORE RETURNING HOME TO AUSTRALIA [circa 1970]

[janecallanan]

Too bad the letter didn't work. You guys know more about bricks than just a passer-by. I wondered why. Now I know!

[xgrunt]

With the way my vocabulary decreased in service , my bigest worry , when I came home, was sitting down to dinner and asking Mom to pass the f****** potatos. I would have been a goner. :cl:

[Drywall]

I did that very thing. Only I did it at Thankgiving with all the family there. I asked pass the f'ing butter. Didn't even realize I said it till I noticed the ominous silence.

[Wazza]

Drywall,

Pardon my ignorance but by any chance would Thanksgiving be in winter. If it is and you were living in Mn. back then I bet the frozen butter thawed out pretty quick.

[Drywall]

Thanksgiving is the last Thursday in November. Winter can be going pretty good by then. It was my red face that thawed the butter.