Udon Thani TimeNong Soong: 1976 Recollections of a USAF Member
I’ve gotten permission from the author of the following event to reproduce it here, giving him due credit in turn. It caught my attention because part of his interesting story was set in Nong Soong, the village my wife, Jack, hail’s from.
She would have been three years old when this took place.
Ban Nong Soong, Thailand; British Crown Colony of Hong Kong; Yokota AB (Tokyo), Japan. Fall, 1976.
Runnin’ scared
Runnin’ blue
Goin’ so fast
What’ll I do
When the tasking came down the job seemed simple enough: take a team of four guys and minimal equipment, load up on a C-141, head out to an Army Security Agency monitoring site in northern Thailand via Clark AB in the Philippines, de-install an MSC-46 satellite uplink, pack it up, load it on a C-5, and ship it back to Japan. Nothing complex, just a lot of disassembly work, inventory all the components, pack, load, and get out of Dodge. No systems installation, alignments, testing, or certifications; just a lot of grunt work. A short-duration job and then back home—just the type of job we all liked.
I was the Team Chief. I had three other guys on the team, plus we were assured there would be Army augmentees from the MSC-46 maintenance organization to assist us with the de-installation. We had two weeks to complete the job. Piece of cake, really. The team consisted of my buddies Barry and Bill, plus a new guy to the shop, a young buck sergeant named James Johnson, who, of course, went by the name of JJ.
The load out at Yokota went according to plan. We flew into Clark AB, spent the night and then caught another C-141 the following morning to Utapao AB, Thailand. Once we got to Utapao we went through a couple of days of mandatory briefings required of all personnel newly arrived in Thailand, along with sufficient time off to explore the local area. We immediately headed out to Pattaya Beach for a little fun in the sun before heading up-country to Nong Soong. All told, we were at Utapao for two days before we caught a C-130 that flew us up to Udorn AB, an AF base near the Laotian border. We then took a bus from Udorn to Nong Soong.
Ramasun Station
Ramasun Station, near the town of Nong Soong, was an Army Security Agency monitoring site; its main system was the AN/FLR-9. The MSC-46 satellite terminal we were tasked to remove was the principal communications up and down link for the base. Ramasun Station was being deactivated because the Thai government had terminated the Status of Forces Agreement with the US in 1975; nearly all US Forces had to be out of the country by the end of 1976. When we arrived at Ramasun Station nearly all of the permanent party cadre had already departed, leaving only a combination de-installation, removal, and caretaker force in place. In other words, the place was pretty much a ghost town.
I reported in to the Army captain in charge of satellite operations, was introduced to the maintenance superintendent, an Army Master Sergeant, got the team billeted, and we set to work. The major part of the job was disassembling the antenna, which was in a fixed configuration on a large concrete pad about 30 feet in diameter. The remainder of the system was in air-transportable vans, so the main effort there was securing all the equipment racks, performing an inventory, and affixing customs seals on the vans once they were ready for shipment. Taking down that antenna was a pure bitch, however.
The ambient temperature during the day was in the high 90s, as was the humidity. We were working on a blazingly hot white concrete pad, which acted as a hellish solar reflector, intensifying the heat and making working conditions all but unbearable. You literally couldn’t touch the metal pieces of that antenna without wearing gloves, it was that hot. We worked 20 minutes outside, then ten minutes inside the air conditioned shelter, then 20 minutes back outside again, eight hours a day. It took us an entire week to disassemble that damned antenna and pack it up. I must have sweated off ten pounds, and for a light-@$$ed guy like me, that’s a lot.
Our nights, though, were quite different. While it was hotter than blazes during the day, the nights were warm and balmy. The restaurants were quite good in the local area, and there were plenty of bar girls left in town who hadn’t flown the coop when the major part of the base’s population left, about two months prior to our arrival. The team and I partied-hardy, as the saying goes, spending our evenings in casual conversation with the ladies and each other in open-air watering holes. Quite pleasant, it was. Well, almost all of the team. All except for JJ, who had brought his girlfriend up to Nong Soong from Bangkok. The lady was also his fiancée and seemed like a really nice girl. JJ disappeared every afternoon to places unknown to be with his woman and didn’t show up again until the following morning. And that was OK. What you did after hours was your business; I only cared about what you did during the duty day.
So, the work proceeded according to schedule and we got the job done. We had received a couple of messages while at Ramasun about a follow-on assignment requiring two radar guys in the Philippines. Barry and Bill volunteered for the job, JJ and I decided to get back home as soon as we could. We caught an over-night bus from Udorn down to Bangkok and left Bangkok via commercial airlines two days later. We couldn’t get a direct flight to Tokyo; the best we could do was a flight from Bangkok to Hong Kong, layover in Hong Kong for the night, and catch a flight to Tokyo the following day.
I felt bad the morning we left Bangkok and so did JJ. We agreed it was probably the flu and didn’t think too much more about it. Once on board the aircraft, we asked a flight attendant to get us some aspirin, which she immediately did. We took the aspirin and went to sleep, sleeping the entire duration of the flight.
We arrived in Hong Kong in the early afternoon, went through customs and caught a taxi to our hotel. Even though I still felt pretty rough I wasn’t going to miss a night out on the town in Hong Kong, given that I might not ever pass this way again. I told JJ we should head up to our rooms, shower, change clothes and meet in the lobby in about an hour. JJ demurred, saying he felt really bad and was going to go to bed and try and sleep off whatever-the-Hell it was we had. Nothing I could say or do would change his mind. I told him I would see him in the morning, went up to my room, showered, changed, took more aspirin and headed out on the town.
It wasn’t a good evening. I didn’t have much of an appetite and picked at my dinner. I took more drugs and decided to ride the ferry across the harbor to Kowloon and back. I got seriously sick on the ferry; the return trip was miserable. Since I felt like death warmed over, I decided to call it a night and headed back to the hotel thinking “what a waste.” My only night in Hong Kong, perhaps, and I was sicker than a dog, too sick to enjoy myself.
The following morning JJ and I met up in the hotel restaurant, had breakfast and headed out to the airport. JJ looked bad, really bad. I felt as bad as he looked. And I don’t remember much about the flight. I do remember landing at Haneda. The Second Mrs. Pennington (who was my intended, not my wife, at that point in time) met me at the airport. Reunion is a wonderful thing when you’re young and in love, but I won’t dwell on that. Suffice to say it was good. TSMP, JJ, and I got on the train and headed back to Tachikawa, where TSMP and I lived; JJ continued on to Yokota. It was the last time I ever saw him.
When we got back to our place I told TSMP I felt really bad and just wanted to take more drugs and get into bed, alone. That got her attention, because we’d been separated for nearly three weeks and all I wanted to do was sleep. She insisted on taking my temperature and it was high, probably 101 or so. I took more drugs and went to bed. It was a bad night; I was up and down all night, violently ill, with a severe headache, and chills.
TSMP took my temperature again in the morning and it was 103. She got me dressed, went out to the phone box down the street, called a cab, put me in the back seat, and we were off to the base hospital at Yokota. I waited for about a half-hour to see a doctor, who examined me and told me he was going to admit me for “observation.” By that time I didn’t care, I just wanted someone or something to take away the chills and headache. I filled out the admissions paperwork, was put in a wheelchair and taken up to the ward and put in a private room, which was highly unusual. The doctor sent TSMP home, telling her he would “be in touch.”
About an hour later the door to my room opened and in walked a gaggle of medical personnel…the doctor who initially checked me out, another full-colonel doctor, still another doctor, and a couple of nurses. They all looked very grim. The colonel introduced himself as the flight surgeon and began asking me questions. After he determined I had been in Thailand, had returned the previous evening via Hong Kong, hadn’t taken any illegal drugs, and other assorted medical and non-medical questions, he asked “Do you know a Sergeant James Johnson?” “Uh, Yes, Sir.” I replied. “Why do you ask?” “We admitted Sergeant Johnson last night, he died early this morning, we don’t know what killed him, and we suspect you have what he had.”
Oh, Shit.
I don’t remember much about the next 48 hours. I was in and out of consciousness, had an IV in each arm, and was poked, prodded, injected, and generally harassed every hour, on the hour. I do remember hearing TSMP screaming down the hall at the ward nurse, demanding to be let in to see me or she was going to call her congressman, and right now. I don’t think it worked; I didn’t see her again, or don’t remember seeing her again, until two days later when I was out of the woods. The military is pretty inflexible when it comes to rules, especially when one is sick with an unknown disease and is in isolation.
Eventually we convinced the flight surgeon, who was handling my case personally by now, that it was OK for TSMP to be allowed to visit me. She came every day, without fail, bringing me magazines and books, and smuggling in food fit for human consumption.
I think it happened on the fifth day I was in the hospital. TSMP was lying next to me on the bed, I was under the sheets, and I was definitely feeling better. And she could tell, too. She whispered something to the effect of “let’s get comfortable,” (but a helluva lot bawdier, and I loved her for that) but I stopped her, pointing toward the door. The door, while it was shut, had a rather large window with a full view of the room. This would never do. But…
I pushed her off the bed, hopped off the bed myself, grabbed my IV pole in one hand and her hand in the other, and led her to the attached private bathroom. The bathroom had a door, and once closed, no one could see in, period. She grinned.
It was good. Even while standing up, attached to an IV pole.
And that’s when I knew I was going to live, even though I spent a few more days in the hospital, just so the medical staff could “make sure.” That little experience also qualifies as the strangest place I ever “did it.”
And what did I have? The AF says it was extreme viral pneumonia. I think it was Legionnaire’s Disease, but I can’t prove it. But I’m alive to tell the tale, which is better than the alternative. I still feel bad for JJ, to this day, even though I didn’t know him that well. And I feel worse for his girlfriend; I have no idea if she was ever told of his death. How do you contact someone in Bangkok, address unknown, whose name you don’t know? You can’t. Life just isn’t fair, sometimes.
The above adventure was originally posted here.
He has a brief follow-up story in that link relating to an incident with a Thai gal and a large beetle she had offered him, testing his dietary derring-do.
I don’t recollect Jack eating any beetles, but she probably has. She would commonly buy little packets of roasted or fried grasshoppers or locusts whenever she was somewhere that they were available. And a few days ago, she grossed out my brother by recollecting how, when she was around 12 years old, her brother-in-law would collect some sort of insect she could not now name, but which she described as being long like a segment of her finger, and a bit spider-like.
She said that he would gather them from overhead electrical wiring or cable. And then they’d fry up the collection. According to her, these things were very good!
Oddly, she added that as an adult, she never saw these insects around the village any longer.
But returning to the subject of the Ramasun base, Jack has told me before that her father used to work there as a driver for the U.S. military. She was just a child, but she remembers how he would sometimes come home with vegetables and fruit they would not normally have access to, as well as baked goods.
Her father died while Jack was still quite young. From what I understand, he had a heart-attack in bed during the night, and died beside her mother.
Some of his cremated remains are beneath or in the steps leading up to a temple near her Nong Soong family home. There’s a small plaque or frame there that may have his photo in it.
Sometimes at night, Jack is disturbed to the point of concern for me when I make odd noises in my sleep. The memory of losing her father as the family did is something she never wants to have duplicated with me.
Nong Soong: 1976 Recollections of a USAF Member
Nong Soong: 1976 Recollections of a USAF Member
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Did you create your own blog or did a program do it? Could you please respond? 13
Thanks for reprinting this, Garnet. I really appreciate it… and Jack’s reminiscences about her home town. As I said to you over at my place: I loved my short while in Thailand. The country and its people are most beautiful.
I ‘created’ it to the degree that I located the template for it that was WordPress compatible, Lenard. And the blogs are generally my handiwork, even if I’m borrowing much of the content as in the case of this post.
I do have access to a programme that can do automatic posts according to keywords that it has been programed with. However, it is designed for searching out material suitable for affiliate links, and this blog is not favourable for that sort of thing.
Thanks for those kind words, Buck!
Thailand has my heart, but my wife seems focused on finding her success here. I’ve a lot more to say about it all, but I don’t want to make it as public as this!
Your wife is from the village where ……ok, this is complicated, but, where my husband’s sweetheart was from. He left Thailand suddenly, and left her behind. He was in the Air Force and stationed at the air base in Udorn. We would like to try to find her. We would like to help her and/or her daughter in any way that we can. Her name is Gua Moontiga, I am spelling that phonetically. She had his daughter after he left the country. “Lek” was born in Feb. of 1974. On the advise of his mother, he did not pursue bringing Gua and Lek to the U.S.. We have been married for more than 30 years. We would like to do right by them. Can Jack give us any information that might help our search?
Thank you,
Glenda and Mike Dupuis
104 Ave. C
Seagoville, Texas 75159
mgdu...@sbcglobal.net
Now, isn’t that interesting!
Hello, Glenda and Mike!
I have talked with my wife Jack, and although she is roughly the same age as the Lek you speak of, Jack remembers no one of that name who was of a Thai/Farang mix — I am supposing Lek was the daughter of both her mother and Mike? Jack says that in school, she only knew about five people back in those days who were a mix, and about three of them were males.
Nong Soong is huge now — it has sprawled out enormously from the days Mike was stationed in the area. However, Jack says her own mother might recognize the family name — her mother’s memory of course goes back to the years when Nong Soong was a smaller, closer community. And if she cannot recollect the name, maybe she can make enquiries in her own social circle.
Mike, do you recall just how close your lady friend’s home might have been to the base? Knowing this might help — it would assist in providing some geographical/historical orientation where memory is concerned — that is, Jack’s mother would have a better idea of just who amongst her friends and relatives might better know of anyone with that same possible family name you attempted to spell out.
Anyway, you gave your E-mail address. I’ll follow up and contact you directly with it to carry this further.
Mike said Gau and her family lived across the highway from the Thai security station, which I believe he said was called Ramasun. He remembers that it was only about three or four miles from Udorn. He is at work, but I will ask him to get on line with you to give you more information. If you have tried to contact me by email, I have not received it. I am hoping your corraspondence did not go into my “junk” folder. Please put UDON THANI as your subject so that I won’t miss anything! Thanks so much! Glenda Dupuis 11/11/11
The only reply by E-mail that I made, Glenda, was right after I responded to your first comment last month. So I did not send you any sort of update.
As for my wife Jack, I finally asked her last week if she’s yet mentioned any of this to her mother, and Jack claims that she has only once phoned her in all this time. But her mother was about to set off for the local temple, so Jack said the conversation was brief with no time to enter into this discussion.
It seems to me that this claim of just the one call in a period of about three weeks is unlikely sparse, but I cannot prove otherwise. She does have a lot going on in her life here in Canada. She still maintains that she intends to see what can be learned.
I frankly find the delay annoying, for I am very curious about all of this; but Jack’s the one who has to make the call. I don’t speak Thai, and her mother does not speak any English.
I have always wanted to reach out to these two people. I really would prefer to discuss this less publicly, so please give my email a try. Just remember to put Udon Thani in your subject. I get hundreds of junk emails, and sometimes my filter sends things to junk that are not junk. I will always check before I send it to the trash bin. If you have any suggestions on how I can search for them on my own, please let me know. So far, I have had no luck on my own.
Thank you,
Glenda D.
Glenda, I will send any details directly to you once I get them — I will merely post on the site that my wife finally made her call to her mother, and in that way you will know that you should have gotten an E-mail from me describing what my wife may have found out.
I have to admit that I find it difficult accepting that she has only once spoken with her mother — briefly — in all this time since you first posted your comment.
Granted, however, she is extremely busy with her restaurant work, and the long commute of about 40 kilometers (25 miles) into Vancouver each day — and home again at the end of her day. As well, there are her two teen-aged sons that she has to deal with when she is home.
So she may be telling me the truth, and has simply been too preoccupied to take the time lately to call her mother just to idly chat.
As for any other suggestion you could undertake on your own, there was one possibility that I blogged about back in the Spring of 2010 in a post titled Udon Thani Orphanages. However, the website I referred to — SiamHawk — is no longer accessible. The owner Surin Suvadinkun has apparently let it lapse. I can’t seem to find any activity relating to him that is much more recent than 2009. He seemed to hail from the Udon Thani area, and might have been of help. Someone on a site called GenForum certainly praised him for the help he provided back in that year (2009).
Perhaps he has undertaken other challenges in his life, and no longer immerses himself into this pursuit…or maybe there is even a tragic reason for his web inactivity — who can say? If you are absolutely desperate, and you have a Facebook account, you might try contacting him. This is his photo from SiamHawk, if it actually loads — I am using the web archive Wayback Machine for this, so it might not work:
But if it does, at least you would have a clearer idea if you have the proper Surin Suvadinkun if you decide to give Facebook a go.
I found Surin and sent him a message and a friend request. Now how do I find you on FB? Or, you can find me! You have my name, and in my picture I am standing in front of a restored blue GTO. It’s a beautiful car and a beautiful sunset!
I E-mailed you yesterday, Glenda, so I hope you manage to find that message.
GarnetHGB,
It has been a while. I could not find your email. I’m sorry. I hope you will try again to email me! I am curious what you may be able to tell me about the village where Gau,(Kowmoon) and her family lived. You haave my email address, just put Udon Thani in the subject so I can locate it! Thanks!
Glenda D.