Around August 1965, I was posted at a Da Nang Air Base flight line gate during the midnight shift. In a few hours, Vietnamese civilian workers would come streaming in toward their jobs in the ARVN section. Rumors had it that a Village near the base had been hit by Viet Cong and slaughtered. No one ever knew the truth of rumors, or which village, but I would soon have a glimpse of truth.
     Around 0300 hours, an AP NCO driving a pickup led three flatbed trucks roaring through the gate. Their flatbeds had wooden lattice-like rails holding a cargo of bodies tossed loosely in piles the length of each bed. Like flash cards, I caught glimpses of the Vietnamese dead...and they were dead: A Vietnamese male laying on his back, head tilted, mouth wide open, and eyes gaping; a young child's arm dangling through the railing; jumbled stacks of tangled bodies, some clothed, some not, some parts attached, some not.
     They passed through the gate in seconds, heading toward the ARVN flight line area. I had a "Wow did you see that?" feeling! But the dust quickly settled and the bugs renewed their orbit around the gate's floodlight. I noticed a dark trail in the dirt where the trucks had driven, and remember thinking, "Those trucks really leak oil bad."
     Within a hour after dawn, Vietnamese workers and ARVN began their daily pilgrimage to work. I was checking passes, with a QC, and noticed workers approaching the gate on foot were staring and pointing to the center of the road. They held up their IDs without comment, and without being asked to do so, and moved quietly through the gate, as if whatever the cause of their concern might be found at the gate itself.
     The relief truck showed up and as I climbed into the back of the truck, I noticed the dark oil stained trail was actually a scarlet ribbon of blood.

I never knew what had really happened, and no one volunteered any answers. I have wondered about that event for decades. In hindsight, what I regret most is my reaction to the sight of bodies: indifference, mostly, and certainly no compassion whatsoever, as I was more concerned the trucks might be leaking oil, than their grisly cargo having been human beings.