A Trucker's Tale – The Convoy Point

Mar 21, 2024 - one year ago

For my first six months in Vietnam, I was one of two Seabees who had the best job in our battalion of 850 men.

A Truckers Tale The Convoy Point — *Vehicles waiting in line at the convoy point on the north side of the mountain. Ed Miller photo.*

For at least four days each week, I drove tractor-trailers hauling supplies from Danang to our camp 75 miles away. Prior to our battalion, Mobile Construction Battalion 10 (MCB-10), rebuilding Highway 1 into a 40’ wide superhighway, the road was about one and a half lanes wide muddy path, which meant that you had to damn-near stop when you approached another vehicle. Traveling through the middle of the numerous towns and hamlets, including the large city of Hue, was extremely slow and time-consuming.

The road north of Danang began at sea level and wound for 30 miles over the North Truong Son mountain range. At the top of the mountain was the Hai Van Pass, which literally means Ocean Cloud, is South Vietnam’s most dangerous mountain pass, some 1500’ above sea level. After reaching the bottom on the north side, the highway crossed a shallow bay with beautifully clear blue water. The entire drive up-and-over the mountain had such spectacular views that I never got tired of making the trip. The roadway had guard rails, but they weren’t very effective. Most every trip would reveal new evidence of a vehicle having recently gone through the guard rails. Practically every vehicle would have hurtled into the ocean at the bottom of the mountain, but depending on where the vehicles broke through would give you an idea of the horrible ride of those travelers.

When we arrived in Vietnam, we learned of the frequent enemy activity through the Hai Van pass. On our initial trip south from our camp to Danang, the other driver, Baker, and I were not surprised to find all traffic stopped at the bottom of the north side of the mountain. Because the trip was deemed to be unsafe to travel across the mountain as a single vehicle, traffic would be held so the entire line of vehicles could move as a convoy. Jeeps and armored personnel carriers equipped with machine guns were interspersed throughout the convoy, which provided some semblance of security. One convoy traveled north each day and one traveled south. The hour you arrived at the convoy point decided how long you had to wait in line before traffic started moving.

One of the biggest drawbacks of having to wait for each convoy, at least in my case, was that it literally took an entire day to make the one-way trip of 75 miles. I suppose the good part was being able to spend two nights each week in a place which had abundant shopping and numerous forms of entertainment. This was a far-cry from what we had back at our camp out in the boonies. The enlisted men’s clubs were large, and they usually had live music. If I was lucky enough to spend a weekend in Danang, I could usually enjoy a USO Tour show, and on one trip, I just missed Bob Hope’s show by one day.

Another problem with the lengthy convoy queue was the lack of sobriety when the order came to “Move out!” Vietnam was lots of things, but alcoholically dry was not one of them. The little gook kids (sorry, that’s what they were called then) were beautiful, always smiling, and happy young girls, and they ALWAYS had an ample supply of beer kept ice-cold in an ice-filled hole dug into the sand. I don’t remember the price of a beer, not that it really mattered, but I do remember getting shit-faced (more than once) on just a couple of dollars.

While enjoying the nectar supplied by the girls, I tried to pace myself so I would know what shape I was in when it was time to drive, but I was never sure how impaired some of the Army drivers happened to be. I witnessed many of them drinking while they were running up and down Highway 1, so it was quite possible some of them were more than half in-the-bag when they arrived at the convoy point. True, there thousands of Army trucks on the road, so maybe it was simply due to the large number of them which contributed to me seeing so many of the trucks turned over, or those which had run-off into rice paddies.

Army tank retrievers, as the name implies, looked like tanks with attached wrecker booms. We didn’t have to drive too many miles before we saw the retrievers in action, because they were always busy “righting” the overturned trucks. These tank retrievers also came to the Seabee’s rescue when one of our fully loaded Euclid TS-24 scrapers ran off the road and got mired in a rice paddy. (Some said the TS-24 operator got pissed-off about something and drove into the rice patty on purpose.) However it happened, the scraper was so badly stuck in the mud that this retrieval required the tank retriever, plus our other two fully loaded TS-24’s. It was quite a sight, and sound, to witness 4500 horsepower screaming as it pulled that behemoth from the mud.

The Department of the Navy must have had the driver’s comfort in mind when it ordered our tractors. (Yeah, right!) These wonderful multi-fuel using tractors were equipped with notched pull throttles, which when set, would allow the truck to maintain its rpms without having to use the accelerator. This convenience came in mighty handy while traveling up the mountain at five miles per hour after having enjoyed numerous beers. As the throttle held the truck at a steady speed, the extra-added marvel of the large running boards provided the perfect opportunity for a soldier to relieve himself of the aforementioned nectar. It really wasn’t too hard to drive with your right hand as you stood on the running board, while you held the door open with your knee. Your left hand would be free to unzip your britches and “complete your maneuver.” On some of the switch-back curves, quite a few other drivers could be observed utilizing their throttles.

It would be extremely difficult to use your throttle nowadays, due to the number of women serving in the military. In 1968 and 1969, the only women we saw were a few nurses, girls in a USO show, or Vietnamese women.

We never got called-down for using the throttles for this purpose, because we were just doing what the Vietnamese did—when they had the call of nature, they went! It didn’t matter if they were on the side of the road, hanging off the side of a bus, or in the middle of a rice patty. We were just trying to blend in!

Ed Miller has more than 40 years of management and ownership experience in the trucking industry. Today, he is a part-time school bus driver, published author of ‘A Trucker’s Tale,’ and regular contributor to Supply Post. He is a father of three and a grandfather of two, and lives with his wife in Rising Sun, Maryland.