← Part of Letters from Vietnam
letter
Letter to Terrie, 17–18 December 1970 — a guard tower fired on, a beach day, and still hoping to get out
Charlie's letter to Terrie written over two days, 17–18 December 1970, on a single sheet (dad209). On the 17th: not much happening, though one of the towers they pull guard from was fired at that night — no one hurt. On the 18th: no mail for several days, which doesn't matter since he hasn't been writing much either; the weather has been pleasant and a group of them are going to the beach the next day to take advantage of it. There's a rumor they may stay where they are another fifteen or so days, but he doesn't really know. He still hasn't received his $700, so he hasn't ordered his stereo, but that will come. He asks whether Terrie has gotten the silverware yet — it's been two months, and he figures it takes at least that long. Everything is still quiet activity-wise, so he still has his hopes up about getting out of here early. Signed 'Love, Charles.'
What the letter is
A short two-day letter from the rear-area guard-duty stretch of December 1970, written on one sheet across the 17th and 18th. The war intrudes once, briefly and without drama, a guard tower fired on in the night, no one hurt, and is then set down. The rest is the quiet texture of the period: pleasant weather and a beach day, a rumor about staying put, the stereo still waiting on his money, the silverware still in the mail, and the steady low hope, held all through December, of an early drop out of country.
Transcription
Dec 17
Dear Terrie,
Not much happening. One of the towers we pull guard from was fired at tonight but no one was hurt.
Dec 18
No mail for several days again. It doesn’t really matter since I haven’t been writing that much myself. The weather is very pleasant here the past few days and I think a group of us are going to the beach tomorrow to try to take advantage of it. There is a slight possibility we may be staying here 15 or so more days but that is just rumor also so I really don’t know. Not much else new.
I haven’t received my [$700] yet so I haven’t ordered my stereo but that will come. Have you got the silverware yet? It has been 2 months now. I guess it takes at least that long.
Well everything is still quiet over here activity wise so I still have my hopes up about getting out of here.
Love Charles
What the letter records
The tower fired on. “One of the towers we pull guard from was fired at tonight but no one was hurt.” One sentence, then dropped, the same understated register the 16 December enlisted-men’s-club letter and the rear-area December run all carry. It places him on perimeter guard duty at a rear base, the guard-tower rotation he mentions from the same weeks he was pulling shifts and writing at 3 AM.
The beach, and the fifteen-day rumor. “A group of us are going to the beach tomorrow… we may be staying here 15 or so more days but that is just rumor.” The rear-area lull, warm enough for a China Beach–style day trip, with the soldier’s standing uncertainty about how long any posting lasts. The relative safety and idleness are the whole point of the letter’s calm.
The silverware and the stereo. “Have you got the silverware yet? It has been 2 months now.” The stainless steel ware Charlie had mailed home in the 18 November letter — “not a Christmas present” but for the two of them after the war — he’s still waiting to hear landed. The stereo he “can’t order until [his] $700 comes” is the big-ticket item threaded through the December letters, part of the same steady accounting of money and mail-order goods bought against the end of the tour.
Hopes still up. “Everything is still quiet over here activity wise so I still have my hopes up about getting out of here.” The early-drop hope that runs through December, the 60-day drop of the 16th, the March-12 rumor of the 12th, still alive here, before the 31 December letter settled the end-of-tour math.
Scans
