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By
SP5 Tom P. Gable, Jr.
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 wo dozen suntanned, dirt-stained infantrymen shuffle
forward, shyly pondering their sweaty appearances. Some slowly sit down,
smiling self-consciously for no great reason except that their rugged base
has just been interrupted by perfume and lipstick, smiles, red crosses and
blue cotton dresses—two American girls.
They are two of the six Red Cross girls working with the 9th
Infantry Division. Affectionately called Donut Dollies, most haven't seen
a donut since leaving the world. Donut Dollies, as a matter of fact, only
serve donuts in Korea. Nobody knows why. The men don't care.
"Hi, I'm Mary Ann." Smile from a brown-eyed brunette, a big
"hi" from the crowd. "I'm from Cleveland, Ohio (Yayy) and have been in Vietnam
for eight months (Awwwww.)" The response brings a blush, even through her
tan. But she overcomes the small surge of shyness and continues with the
routine. "Anybody want a short-timer calendar?"
"Got any for 300 days?"
"Bummer, give him three." |
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Gable
"Give him nine, he just reupped for three years." Laughter,
groans of disbelief, boo, hiss. Mary Ann steps back, laughing. Another girl
moves closer to the men, who are now smiling openly and seem to have forgotten
they are in Vietnam, in the Mekong Delta, and not in |
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Santa Monica.
"I'm Betsy (Yayyyy!). I am from Knoxville, Tennessee (Booo!)
and have been in Vietnam just two months (Arrrgggghhhh!). We have a game.
It's a musical game. Would you like to play?"
"Do we have to sing?" blurts one young blond southerner. |
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