The best officers always put the concerns of their men first. Sometimes that concern extended beyond the men under their command. Chief Warrant Officer Bruce Mclnnes, an army helicopter pilot, was asked by his platoon leader, Captain Roy Ferguson, to help him out on a mission of mercy to the Vinh-Son Orphanage and School, a local orphanage containing more than twelve hundred children and was run by a group of Catholic nuns. In a letter Mclnnes wrote home to his mother, he said, in part:

QUICK FACTS

• Patrols into rural areas were known as “humpin’ the boonies.” “Boonies” was short for “boondocks,” the slang word for rural, poor regions, and was popularized by the hit song “Down in the Boondocks” recorded by Billy Joe Royal in 1965.

• Infantrymen could not wear underwear while on patrol in Vietnam. The heat and humidity were so intense that wearing underwear caused the men to develop jungle rot—skin rashes that could get so severe the men would have to be hospitalized.

• When troops were stationed in the large bases in Vietnam, they were served the same food they would have received if they were stationed in the United States. Because of the hot, tropical climate, ice cream was a big favorite among the troops. When they were on a mission and had to remain in the field overnight or for an extended stay, they would take with them specially prepared meals, C rations, sometimes referred to as “charlie rats.”

• According to the official specifications, each C rations package included “one canned meat item; one canned fruit, bread, or dessert item.” Also included was an accessory packet containing such items as chewing gum, toilet paper, coffee, cream, sugar, and salt. Typical food items were beefsteak, ham and eggs, turkey loaf, spaghetti and meatballs, ham and lima beans, chicken, fruit cocktail, peaches, crackers, peanut butter, pound cake, jam, and white bread. C rations could be eaten cold if necessary. Whenever possible, troops would heat them on small one-man stoves that used heating tablets for fuel.

“[The kids] just went wild when they saw us. And no wonder—for the past five months, Capt. Ferguson . . . has been practically their only link with the life of clothing, toys, and personal American friendship. They’ve adopted him, in their own way, as a sort of godfather. . . . Capt. Ferguson will be leaving soon, and I will sort of assume the privilege of being the go-between for these children and the assistance that comes in. . . . These kids aren’t underprivileged—they’re nonprivileged, and they’re running. Running toward a way of life where they can better themselves on their own. But they’re so young, we have to help them to walk before we let them run. . . . There’s no law here requiring children to attend school. They go because they are hungry for knowledge and because their stomachs are hungry. An education can change that, and we must help them get that education. . . . Send anything that might be useful to [the orphanage] care of myself . . . And don’t be surprised if the next piece of mail you get from Vietnam is a thank-you note from some very, very grateful Vietnamese youngster.”