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letter
Letter to Terrie, 10 September 1970 — a helicopter crash, camera shopping, and 'I'd be a resident of Canada now'
Charlie's two-page letter to Terrie dated 10 September 1970, reassembled from its scans (dad310 page 1, dad311 page 2). A third of the month gone, with rumors they'll be kept out until the real monsoons hit, probably until month's end — a miserable stretch he dreads, though the enemy still hasn't shown itself. Three letters from Florida arrived, mostly about her getting a tan. He still doesn't know if she'll graduate in June and wants to know so he can plan what he does after he's back. He mentions a bad helicopter crash that killed 33, filing it as 'one of the minor things to worry about' given he's personally had 25-30 helicopter rides. At the rear he plans to buy a 124 camera and a small transistor radio, and may ask her to mail film given the shortage in-country. The letter breaks off at evening blackout and resumes with a battalion lieutenant colonel visiting for the night; Charlie imagines what he'd say if asked how he likes the Army — that he'd be a resident of Canada if he'd known how bad it was, and would leave now given the chance. He notes an overheard conversation among three Black soldiers about race that he found serious but also comical and educational, and promises to write more about it, before ending as it gets dark.
What the letter is
10 September 1970, two pages written across a break at evening blackout — the first half filed at daylight, the second picked up after dark with a battalion officer visiting the position for the night. Between them: a helicopter crash filed away with startling matter-of-factness, ordinary shopping plans for a camera and radio, and one of the corpus’s more candid moments of frustration with the Army itself, delivered as a hypothetical answer to a question nobody actually asked him.
Transcription
Sept 10
Dear Terrie,
The month is now 1/3 over. From the rumors I fear they plan to keep us out here til we are really in the monsoons. It will probably be til the end of the month, so I guess I’ll be getting plenty wet. Still no sign of the enemy, so I hope my luck holds. It is going to be a miserable 3 wks. How I hate it.
I got 3 letters from you, [most] of which were from Florida, telling about getting a tan.
I guess you haven’t found out whether you graduate yet or not in June. Well, let me know so I can alter any of my ideas about what I’m going to do after I get back.
I guess there have been a few helicopter crashes lately, but usually the crew survive[s]. [One] bad one was when a big one went down and 33 or so were killed. It is bad, but it is one of the minor things to worry about. I guess I’ve had 25-30 helicopter rides.
When I get to the rear I think I’ll buy a 124 camera and a small transistor radio. They have a shortage of film over here, so I may ask you to mail me some. Don’t mail any til I ask for it though. Must move now so I’ll try and finish this later.
Well, it is evening, 6:30, blackout.
[page 2:] It looks like rain. Our battalion Lt. Colonel came out to spend the night with us. I hope it rains like hell. We didn’t move very far today, and I hope we don’t move very far tomorrow because our packs will be full then.
The Lt. Colonel hasn’t asked me how I like it in the army yet, but my answer will be: if I knew how bad and messed up the army was, I would be a resident of Canada now!! — and if I get a chance I’ll leave for Canada now!! So much for my immediate thoughts of the army and my situation.
There are 3 soul brothers having a conversation on race, and although it is serious it is also comical. I’ll write you about it as it is most interesting and educational for me — an understanding about what [people] from different areas of the country, with various backgrounds and ages, think and act like.
It is dark, so I’ll end and write another time.
Love Charles
What the letter records
A crash, filed under “minor things to worry about.” Thirty-three dead in a single helicopter crash is presented as background noise against Charlie’s own tally of 25-30 rides — not indifference so much as the particular calculus of a man who flies constantly and has decided which risks are worth carrying in his head. It’s the same instinct that lets him note firebase losses elsewhere in the corpus without breaking stride.
“I would be a resident of Canada now!!” One of the most direct statements of frustration with the Army anywhere in the letters, framed carefully as a hypothetical answer to a question the visiting Lt. Colonel never actually asked. The rehearsal — what he’d say if asked — lets him voice the anger without having to actually say it to anyone with rank.
An overheard conversation on race. Charlie flags it as “serious” and “comical” and promises to write more, a rare moment of him registering the diversity of backgrounds among the men he served with as something worth reflecting on rather than simply reporting. Whether the follow-up letter he promises survives in the corpus isn’t yet established.
Camera and radio, film to be mailed on request. A small, ordinary plan — 25-30 helicopter rides and a helicopter crash notwithstanding — for what to buy when he next reaches the rear. The instruction not to mail film until asked is characteristic of his running logistics management of what Terrie sends him.
Scans
