Wilton Veteran Recounts Vietnam

In 1968 students at Columbia University stormed campus buildings and staged a sit-in to protest the Vietnam War.  Riots accompanied the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. President Lyndon Johnson escalated the number of troops going to Southeast Asia.

It was a tumultuous time at best. Yet that's precisely the year Don Hazzard decided to enlist in the Navy Seabees.

"I knew it was going to be a matter of time. So I wanted my choice of service," Hazzard, 61, said in a recent interview inside Wilton's American Legion Post 68. "I had a lot of friends already over there, some of them had been killed."

Contrary to popular opinion, the majority of men who served in Vietnam were not drafted. In fact, two-thirds of the men who served volunteered. That's in contrast to World War II, when two-thirds of the men who served were drafted, according to a speech delivered to the Joint Chiefs of Staff by Gen. Barry R. McCaffrey in 1993.

Joining the Seabees didn't seem out of the ordinary. After all Hazzard's father worked in construction. The Seabees built camps, roadways, and airstrips. They repaired the infrastructure to keep combat troops safe.

After Hazzard enlisted, the Navy sent him to boot camp in Gulf Port, Mississippi. He entered as an E4, or petty officer. His draft card arrived while he was in boot camp. Today Hazzard chuckles at the irony.

"I was pretty much a homebody before then," Hazzard said.

His family spent two months in Florida every year. Sometimes they'd visit his mother's family in Sheldon, Vermont, a small town near the Canadian border. 

Born and raised in Norwalk, Hazzard has lived in Wilton for 28 years. Today he works with veterans from WWII, Korea and Vietnam. Recently he's reached out to Iraq and Afghanistan veterans. He decided relating his experience would let today's young veterans living in Wilton know they can find refuge at Post 86.

During boot camp the Navy told the Seabees they had a choice of where they'd be sent – including Hawaii or Puerto Rico. But really there was no choice. There was a war going on in Southeast Asia.

So, after about nine weeks of training, Hazzard received orders to report to Camp Lejeune in North Carolina for extensive weapons training. He served in Alpha Company, Mobile Construction Battalion 1.

At that point Hazzard's decision hit home.

"Until that point I don't think they realized what I had done," Hazzard recalled of his parents' reaction. "My mother was very upset. My father was a little stronger. I never saw him cry in my life, but when he brought me down [to leave] I saw tears."

Hazzard boarded a commercial flight out of Quonset, Rhode Island and began the flight to the other side of the world. They stopped in Alaska and Japan to refuel. Finally the tarmac in Da Nang, Vietnam appeared.

"We landed in Da Nang. I can still describe the landing. I see the smoke. And I thought 'Now this is reality. Here we are.'" Hazzard said. "Everybody had weapons. The 110-degree heat hits like a block. You grow up pretty quick."

Plumes of acrid smoke filled the air. It came from 55-gallon drums sawed in half where waste burned.

"It's a stench that never goes away - that and dead bodies," Hazzard said.

Hazzard and the other newly arrived troops spent little time in Da Nang. They boarded windowless C130s straight away and flew to a base in Phu Bai, near the demilitarized zone. An airstrip needed repairing.

PCV HQ, or Provisional Corps Vietnam, was located in Phu Bai. Later it became the headquarters of XXIV Corp, which was in charge of all of the units in the northern two provinces of I Corps Tactical Zone.

During his deployment Hazzard wrote letters to his parents and his mom sent him tapes. She also sent care packages filled with food. Hazzard said while on base, cold beer and cigarettes supplemented the C-rations.

Right next to the base a makeshift Army hospital stood. Helicopters constantly flew in and out.  Yet, other than the constant chop of the rotors, Hazzard didn't follow the news to learn what was happening in country.

"I've never been much of a history buff, and I didn't follow the news then," he said. "I was oblivious to it. Had I not been I would have run for the hills, although I'm not a runner."

After a time the military closed the base at Phu Bai. Everything needed to be relocated to Da Nang. Hazzard helped move the convoy along the cliff-hugging road of the Hai Van pass. He wasn't scared.

"At that point we were a bunch of old salts. And we had plenty of security," Hazzard said.

They reached Red Beach in DaNang. Hazzard said they now had to be much more polished, more military. There were threats of course. For example, Vietnamese were hired to clean the base in Da Nang, and several other bases throughout the country.

"They'd come and scope it out during the day and at night send VC in to 'slit your throat,'" Hazzard said. "You'd see young kids, 12-13, with weapons. It was a worn-torn country and I felt terrible for the people who lived there. They way we and the North treated civilians, to see what they went through.

Although life on Red Beach had its advantages, Hazzard said, including surfing, a club, and USO sponsored shows.

Soon after his arrival word got around that a couple of Seabees were needed down in the Mekong Delta. They needed to erect a camp for Navy Seals near the Cambodian border. Hazzard volunteered.

The dark water of the Mekong River spooked the young Seabee, with high grasses in every shade of green jutting toward the sky, villages still standing on both banks. But inside a South Korean gunboat he felt secure.

"The South Koreans were our security, they were some bad dudes. You always felt safe," Hazzard said.  "The ride was an experience."

Read the second article in the series: Wilton Legion's Leader and his Noble Goals.