When Big Blue Went to War

I was awakened out of a sound sleep by a tender nudge on my shoulder and a female’s soft voice near my ear. I opened my eyes and the stewardess asked, “Can I get you anything, sir? We are about two hours out of Hong Kong and are starting to serve breakfast.” I mumbled a thank you and stretched my aching back and legs. Over previous years of air travel, I had learned to sleep pretty well on commercial jets and rarely experienced the malady of jet lag. Maybe the trick of downing a couple of mai-tai cocktails at the terminal bar for these mid-night departures out of Honolulu also assisted me in falling asleep. (It wasn’t really passing out if it were planned for the ten-hour flight across the Pacific, was it?) Maybe it was also the fact that I really enjoyed air travel and had done a lot of it. I thought better of having a wake-me-up Bloody Mary - I had a busy schedule ahead - so I tried to strike up a conversation with the good looking stew by saying that I would love to spend time in Hong Kong with her between flights. She smiled, ignored my offer and asked, “On holiday or are you bound for Nam?” I had noticed her shortly after boarding. I was 34, a confirmed bachelor, but always enjoyed female companionship, and the challenge of establishing that relationship. I tried again, handed her my business card and said that I was on a business trip and could she at least join me for lunch. She said, “I wish I could. That might be fun, but this flight lays over in Bangkok, not Hong Kong, and I’d better get you that breakfast.” Good try Dan! I thought stewardesses were really great and had dated more than a few back in Honolulu in recent years. During the rest of the flight, I had time to reflect on some of the events that had led to the adventure ahead. It was February 1969 and I had volunteered for a two-year assignment in South Vietnam in the service of the IBM Corporation. Was I doing the right thing or was I completely out of my mind? Why would a happy, healthy, carefree bachelor leave a Honolulu paradise in exchange for a life in a war zone? Being a hero for one’s corporation was one thing, but was I laying my life on the line? The past five years in Hawaii working for IBM had been the best years of my life. I had a good job, good friends, surfing and sailing, social and athletic club memberships and an abundance of good looking, fun loving wahinis for casual dating. Why push a corporate mission to the extreme? Why trade a comfortable lifestyle for the danger and stress of living in Saigon’s unknown chaos? It was a wild and crazy thing to do, and I was really excited and looking forward to any new prospects for high adventure. I also seriously thought that I was about to do something patriotic for my country. I was sure that the other IBMers who had preceded me to Southeast Asia had similar in-flight thoughts. I had been classified 4-F due to a serious history of youthful debilitating bronchial asthma and also went through college with a 2-S deferment during my draftable years in the mid 1950's. I had just missed the Korean War, and this was perhaps my way of serving an overdue military obligation. Maybe living in Hawaii in the 1960’s had been too easy, too much fun and I wanted something more serious to sink my teeth into. Rather than the distractions of where the best surf was, or what local girl or mainland malahini I should be dating, or when the next catamaran race and yacht club party was, what I needed was a tough unique challenge combined with increased business responsibilities. The new job held a promotion and hopefully promised additional professional opportunities after the assignment - or so I had been lead to believe by upper IBM management. I was energetic and in great physical condition (six foot one, 185 pounds) from all my swimming, surfing and sailing, but I had no serious long range plans at all - nothing to keep me from doing whatever I wanted to do or from seeing more of the world. There was also the mercenary aspect of the job, since IBM offered hazardous duty pay on top of a regular salary for working in the war zone. In retrospect and many years later, I believe that I would make the same decision again. I have never regretted that Vietnam decision; it was one of the most exhilarating periods of my life. I had become heavily involved with the U. S. military in Hawaii during the 1967-1968 time frame as the result of an IBM career change. I moved from being a technically oriented Systems Engineer supporting commercial customers into Federal Marketing. My new marketing responsibilities became the selling and installation requirements for data processing equipment utilized by Pacific Air Force Headquarters (PACAF) located at Hickam Air Force Base; by U.S. Army Pacific Headquarters (USARPAC) at Fort Shafter; occasionally by the Commander in Chief Pacific Headquarters (CINCPAC); by Strategic Communications Pacific Headquarters (STRATCOMPAC) out at Schofield Barracks and by Fleet Marine Force Headquarters (FMFPAC) at Camp Smith, which was co-located with CINCPAC on a strategic hill overlooking Pearl Harbor. These were my primary customers, but I also called on the Marines at the Kaneohe Air Station, at the Army’s Security Agency located in the center of an Oahu pineapple field, at the Naval Shipyard at Pearl Harbor, at an Information Data Handling System security installation at PACAF and occasional calls at CINCPAC’s alternate headquarters secret underground site at Kunia. When time and responsibilities permitted, I also flew to Kwajalein Atoll in the Marshall Islands in order to market our products to MIT's Lincoln Laboratories and Bell Telephone Laboratories, both of which had complex computer installations at that far end of the Pacific Missile Test Range. I was extremely busy with this set of customers and gradually became more involved in IBM's business relationship with the Vietnam conflict. Data processing was still in its infancy by today’s standards, but it was growing quickly. IBM had just started volume deliveries of the, now almost forgotten, System/360 line of computers, and the military was taking delivery as fast as the procurement process in Washington D.C. would allow. I suppose I was a valuable commodity with an in-depth technical background, computer programming capability, and systems knowledge coupled with a growing understanding of the military’s data processing procedures, requirements and organizations. I had even learned almost all the ranks and insignias of the main branches of the services (no simple chore since I had never been in the military) and I had a total respect for their lifestyle and protocol. My agreement to the two-year assignment in Saigon almost seemed like it was preordained. I accepted the dual position of Marketing/Systems Engineering Manager for IBM’s Southeast Asia Operation (Branch Office 562) with eager enthusiasm. I was following much of the equipment I had helped sell and now I was going to have to help make it work in the war zone! Breakfast, and the good looking stew brought me back to reality and I began looking forward to an overnight stay in Hong Kong and the follow-on second leg of my journey to Saigon. We started the descent from 31,000 feet into Kai Tak Airport. This would be my first experience in the orient and since I did not know what to expect, I spent the remaining half hour looking out the port at the fascinatingly beautiful approach to Hong Kong Harbor and thinking about what the IBM Corporation was doing with its employees and their operational status in the Southeast Asia war zone.