A little more to the story..... from Frank./ Almost Civilian Again. I took my discharge from the Air Force on January 28th, 1968, one week short of a four year hitch. But I almost got a 90 day extension on my enlistment for “the convenience of the US Government”. Some older folks may recall the USS Pueblo incident. One of our Navy ships, the USS Pueblo was a spy ship which monitored North Korean activities. It was attacked and captured by the North Koreans who claimed the ship had crossed into its sovereign waters, on the very day I was to be going home. The crew was held captive for nearly a year, and the ship is today still held by the North Koreans. Anyway, on the day of leaving Clark for Travis AFB in California to be processed out, Clark Field was put on Red Alert. I had already packed, put on my dress blues and was sitting at the air terminal waiting to board my plane home. I was one of maybe four or five personnel who had arrived early, way early. We were not going to miss this flight. The loud speakers in the terminal blared the news, “Red Alert, all personnel return to duty station”. That meant us, too. I picked up my bag, and double timed into the terminal’s rest room. I stood on the toilet farthest from the entrance and cradled my duffel bag in my arms. I knew the Apes (our affectionate term for the Air Police) would be rounding up stragglers. Sure enough. A few minutes later the guys who had remained in their seats were being escorted out of the terminal, and one of the Apes slammed open the restroom door, shouted something like “Active Duty Personnel, report to duty stations” and squatted down to check for legs in the cubicles. Fortunately for me he didn’t check any further than that. Ha! Fooled ya! I waited an appropriate amount of time, walked cautiously back into the now empty terminal. Outside, parked about 100 yards away was the C-141 scheduled to depart in a couple of hours for Travis. My travel orders had already been lodged. I hoisted my bag up on my shoulder, sucked in a big breath and headed out to that jet. The boarding ramp had been in place since dawn. I picked a seat farthest away from the open door. And there I sat for about 90 minutes in silence. There was a lot of traffic on the main runway, a few hundred yards away. Mostly fighters going up to patrol the skies, but other than the increased traffic everything appeared a normal day at Clark Field. Around 08:00 some personnel boarded the plane. Apparently they were “non-essentials”. No-one came to check on my status. At 0:900 we had “wheels up” and Clark Field and I parted company. I stared out that little window as the familiar scenery faded from sight. The anticipation of going home had filled my days and nights for weeks. I had made the rounds in Angeles City and had a final few drinks with friends. My spirits had soared. I was going home! But now, looking down from 15,000 feet, as we crossed the shoreline, still climbing, and the expanse of green jungle morphed into a blue Ocean, a sadness settled in. I had lived, truly lived, more in these past four years than in the entire 18 years before my enlistment. Return to Civilian Life I arrived home, a newly minted civilian, and stayed at my parent’s home for a few weeks while I sorted things out and looked for gainful employment. Jobs in 1968 were not plentiful, but I managed to get hired by General Telephone. I had visited Susie in Bangkok for about a week at the end of December using a week of the five weeks of leave I had accumulated. The couple of months since I had seen her last had been difficult. I needed to know before I left Asia whether she shared my hopes for a future together. Would she choose fame and her career over what little I had to offer? We could make a life together, she had said. Exactly how we would make that happen needed to be worked out. My spirits had soared. It was 2:00 a.m. a week before I was to start at General Telephone. The phone rang. My Dad answered and knocked on my bedroom door. It was for me. The voice on the line was Susie’s. Geez, honey, I said, you’re spending an awful lot of money calling from Thailand. Back then a minute from Thailand cost about $1.50 “No, it’s only 25 cents. I’m calling from LA International. My plane landed 30 minutes ago”. And so began the next chapter of my life. Both my parent were uneasy about it. They were worried that I didn’t understand the gravity, the responsibility of what we had chosen to do. Marriage was not entered into on a whim. I tried to assure them we were committed to each other. I’m certain Mom and Dad still viewed me as the uncertain teenage son who had left 4 years earlier. We found an apartment close to where I worked. Susie became a home maker. I was in heaven. About five months went by. The job was uninteresting, repetitive, and dull. Climbing poles, hanging wires and cables, any initiative thwarted by union rules, I was getting restless. Susie observed and took the lead, contacted her friends in the nightclub business in Bangkok. One weekend she gave me the news. Her singing career was still there for her, with a big raise, if she would just come back. I was welcome and I could count on earning a living. How? Not to worry, she had friends in high places. Never one to worry too much about mundane things, I agreed and we went. We landed in Bangkok, at the same Don Muang Airport where I had served a TDY less than one year previous. The reception was more than I could have anticipated or expected. The local news media with cameras were at the plane as we were the first to be disembarked. A private minibus took us to clear customs and collect our baggage, away from the “ordinary” folks who had to take the airport shuttle bus. I was perplexed, Susie took it in stride. Her return was celebrated. There were TV shows, interviews, magazine articles. The club was filled every day and every evening. She sang at lunch as well as in the evening. I just kind of trailed along, watching and enjoying. We were offered a nice house for rent at a very reasonable price. It was next door to the owner who was a career Thai Army Colonel. Many years later, as General and Commander of the Army, he would stage a coup and dissolve Parliament and oust a bunch of dishonest politicians. Six months later, as was the custom, new elections were held and a new Parliament took over. It’s a custom we should adopt here in the USA. In the mean time, I started looking for something to do. There was an Air America office on Don Muang. The Viet Nam war would go on for another 6 years. I was introduced to the chief “spook” who ran the maintenance and logistics for the outfit. He offered me a job maintaining their airplanes at a base in a remote part of North East Thailand. The pay was excellent, more in week than I had earned in two months at General Telephone. Only one problem, I wouldn’t be home with Susie but once a month for three or four days. Neither one of us could accept that. Lolita, where Susie sang, offered a great lunch and, in the evenings was a nightclub in the old world sense. It could seat 300 customers and had a band with 10 musicians. The four singers were all famous throughout Thailand for their specific genres. Savalee was the eldest and the resident queen bee. Her specialty was Thai ballads and an occasional Western ballad like the theme from “Love Story”. Her husband was a well placed officer in the Government Savings Bank. Khun Savalee, you had a pure, soaring voice. Ruang Thong sang classical Thai songs, very rarely heard outside Thailand. At first her music clashed with my ears. The melody and the beat were unlike anything I had heard before. Yet, over time, some of her music grew on me and to this day, whenever I hear it, I listen. Pi Ruang, you were a saucy lady. You teasingly called me ”Ai Frank” –an endearing informal term for a younger male friend. I can still whistle your song about that lost water buffalo. Then there was my Susie. She sang songs made popular by Barbara Streisand, James Brown, Three Dog Night, the Fifth Dimension, Lulu, and many others. The owners of Lolita approached me with a question, -would I like to be the manager and part owner of a western nightclub, something one of them had seen on a trip to the USA. Was I familiar with the “discotheque”? What was I to say, except “of course!”. The only thing I really knew about them was that Susie and I had been regulars at the Mardi Gras in Los Angeles where we went to dance on Saturday nights. But that wasn’t going to be a problem. I believed a person could do anything until it was proven he could not. So The Fox Nightclub was built. Literally. It was in the basement parking lot of a new 14 story shopping and office tower. Two walls had to be built to close in the space. When it was done The Fox had a raised stage, a sunken dance floor, a sixty foot bar, and seating for 150. We had placed two projection booths at the left and right of the stage from which we could project the light shows prerequisite for a “discotheque”. We were located on Ploenchit Road, just a block from the British Embassy. But more importantly, one block from the US Embassy on Tanon Vitayu, -Wireless Road. I hired a great Philippine band. The Philippines produced some of the best “mimic” bands which could make you believe you were hearing the original recording. We hired a second band to alternate with the main group. We attracted the embassy crowd, well to-do locals, and expatriates living in Bangkok. Just as a little side note: locally Bangkok is known by its historical name: Krung Thep Maha Nakorn Amorn Ratana Kosin Mahin Tara Ayutaya Mahadilok Popnoparat Rachatanee Burirom Udom Pathom Neewate Maha Sataan Amorn Piman Awataan Sathit Sakathattiya Visanuk Kham Prasith. Or, Krung Thep, the City of Angels, for short. If I remember Thai history correctly, the Ratanakosin Kingdom, was founded by the first king of the current Chakri Dynasty. He was the highest ranking general of the preceding King Taksin who had become delusional and was deposed by his nobles. General Praya Chakri was asked to become King in 1782 and established his capital on the site of a small village named Bang-Kok around 1784. That would have been at about the same time the USA won its independence from England. Ratanakosin, also known as Siam until 1932, became Thailand when the absolute monarchy became a constitutional monarchy with a civilian government in which members of Parliament are elected. The new capital on the site of Bang-Kok was given that long and auspicious name and every Thai school kid learns it by heart. Listen to that name sung, set to a modern beat: youtu.be/HwpeUnWuthU Don’t forget to turn up your speakers. Back in those years, 1968 through 1972, Bangkok, the City of Angels, was still a mixture of the exotic and the modern. Centuries old temples and buildings stood side by side with new glass and steel office buildings. Streets which had been laid out over the previous 175 years had been paved but the majestic flame red blossomed trees had survived and still lined the roads and provided welcome shade. Canals and waterways which had been the main means of transport and commerce flowed next to many of the new roads. It was said that any point in Bangkok could be reached by road or by water. Old cultures and customs prevailed and influenced the daily lives of the gentle Thai people. Everyone, foreigner or Thai born, was treated respectfully and with great courtesy. Siam, had earned its reputation as the land of smiles. Susie’s parents and siblings accepted and treated me as member of the family, without reservation, from day one. I was addressed as Pi Frank by the younger members, and as Khun Frank by those older than I. Pi is used to address an older brother or sister, while Khun is used like we use “mister” or “miss”. It is gender neutral. So I was Older Brother Frank, or Mister Frank, depending on who was talking to me. Even Susie’s Mom, whom I addressed as “Khun Yai Sare” (Grandmother Sare) called me “Mister Frank”. There is a term for a younger brother or sister, “nong”. It is perfectly acceptable to call your kid brother or sister “nong”. This formality did not in the least bit diminish the affection we had for each other. It reminded me daily that each individual has a dignity and a right to be treated respectfully. Having said all the above, I do have make it understood, -my little spouse was and is no pushover. As the object of her displeasure on a number of occasions, I can attest to the fact that most Thai women have perfected the art of the cold shoulder and the silent treatment. It was much more effective than had she wielded a sharp tongue
Posted on: Sun, 16 Jun 2013 01:50:34 +0000
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