Dear Reverend Anderson,

This new month marks my 6th month in Vietnam and in a few weeks I'll have one half of my thirteen months completed and can almost start thinking of home again.  Home has almost become an unreal heaven for me and sometimes I almost forget what it feels like to be home with my family and friends.  Over here my symbol of freedom and home is to walk into any restaurant and say, " Gimme a cup of coffee and a chocolate doughnut."  That's cool.

I miss college with a passion and often long for the talks I used to have with my roommate, Craig.  I think of attending Augustana and listening to a very inspiring sermon from my pastor!!!  I don't forget the Coffee Hour.  How's the church coming along?  I suppose in the next two or three months it should be almost finished.  It will be strange for me not to be driving to Bond Chapel for services when I get home.

I can just imagine the questions people will ask me about Vietnam.  "What's it like?  Did you get into any big battles?"  I can imagine myself going around 24 hours a day thanking God that I'm still alive, which brings a question to my own mind today, "Will I still be alive?"  The situation here is bad but it could be worse and it might get worse.  I'm still on Hill 881 waiting and dodging the enemy mortars, bullets and heavy artillery.  Death has become part of my life.  I've seen enough death to last a lifetime and I'm only 21.  My friends have died.  People I don't know have died.  I've had to bring some of the dead bodies up to the helicopter landing zone.  I've watched men smile one minute and die the next.  I've seen squads reduced from 13 to 1 man.  I've heard the artillery singing over my head and land with a crash - - the mortar that only gives seconds warning before it hits.

The jets and B-52s have been 100% helpful.  They're always dropping bombs around the hill and off aways; sometimes no more than a quarter mile away.  I can see B-52s dropping their 1,000 lb. bombs.  It's weird.  All of a sudden everything's quiet and out of nowhere comes a sound I've never heard.  Sort of like a siren giving quick, short sounds through a sound magnifier and then the bombs hit and there's nothing but light and clouds rolling up, and the whole hill shakes from concussion and we all wonder, "Did he get that artillery piece?"  Even the helicopters need jets to escort them to bring our water and food.  The jets come and bomb and shoot and throw gas and smoke and before the enemy can know what's happening the helicopters have landed and are gone.  I've seen three helicopters and two jets shot down.  I've seen a lot and heard a lot and suffered a lot since Xmas, but somehow I'm still hanging in there.  Around me there's a lot of pain and death and it really bothers me.

The men with me on 881 are in a kind of suffering way.  We haven't had a shower or hot meal since Xmas and that doesn't help the morale too much.  Sometimes we get a quart of water for two or three days and sometimes we even go 2 days without.  Sometimes we only get 1 meal a day and we have been eating the same food (about 12 choices) every day since Xmas.  Sometimes we get 2 hours sleep at night but are usually able to get about 5 more the following day.

I've thought of a way the people of Augustana could help out in an operation I've named "OPERATION WE CARE."  Enclosed is a list of 15 Marines on the hill and some of the things we like and could use.  These are only suggestions, you don't have to send them all.  Fifteen members of Augustana could send a package every two weeks until the end of May; by then we should be off the hill.  This would raise the morale of the men and get them something different to eat an also show them that the people in the States really care enough about them to do this.  This "OPERATION WE CARE" is part of an operation in which I hope Luther College, Southwest Minnesota State College and St. Matthew Lutheran Church in Jersey City will help out.  Another friend of mine is making an appeal to his church in Chicago.

Please tell the people to put "OPERATION WE CARE" on the package so if one of the men is dead we might be able to keep the package and give it to someone else.

God bless you, your friend,
 Ernie

Although Ernie asked for only 15 volunteers, we thought more people would like to participate in this "OPERATION WE CARE" so individual envelopes have been made up with the man's name, address and date package should be sent.  These envelopes will be distributed during the Coffee Hour.  If you care please take one or as many envelopes as you can manage and send your package the week of the date on the envelope.  Each envelope contains an address label and a label marked "OPERATION WE CARE" to be pasted on the corner of your package.