Shortly before Christmas 1968, the squadron had a rare day, with no mission scheduled. As it happened, it was the same evening that Bob Hope would be presenting his Christmas show to the troops. So, I told the Ordnancemen, if they would expedite the multitude of cleaning and weapons maintenance activities they were doing, that we’d go to the show. I told them we’d leave plenty early so we could make sure we found good seats on the sand.

Taking a blanket, some reading material, a cribbage board and a deck of cards, those of us that could, went to the Cam Ranh Bay US Army base for the ‘show’. We whiled away the afternoon of a beautiful day in what we thought were the best seats in the ‘house’, right in the middle, not far from the stage. All was well, until about thirty minutes before show time, a crew showed up with the makings of a huge platform for television and movie cameras – and began assembling it about five feet in front of us. We, and the folks behind us were going to be completely blocked out!

It was looking to me that the Bob Hope Show was not really for the war fighters, but for the folks back home to watch on TV. So, we continued to sit there in the sand, grumbling and figuring we could at least listen to the music and a few jokes and then return to the Naval Air Facility. All the while, I was planning to take pen in hand, and write some ugly letters to the USO and to anyone else I could think of, as soon as I got to the barracks.

The show started with what was likely several hundred folks who were not able to see anything except the shroud around the TV platform. About half way through his monologue, Mr. Hope must have noticed what had happened, as we heard him say, “Stop the show!!!” We also heard someone else say, “Mr. Hope, you can’t stop the show. You have a plane to catch.”

Bob Hope replied that the show would not continue until everyone in the crowd could see the stage. The folks to the sides made room, we repositioned, and the show began again when everyone could see. Sitting there all jammed together was a little cozier than I liked, but we could care less. I told myself then that I would still write some letters about the show, but they would have a much different tone from my earlier plans. I would thank everyone involved with the show – except for the scaffold builders, that is...

The show was simply the greatest! Near the end, some dignitaries, including the Commanding Officer and the mayor of the Vietnamese village near the base made presentations to the members of the show. Mr. Hope then asked everyone to stand and to join him in singing “Silent Night.” The stars and the moon were shining bright as we began singing. Just then, storm clouds appeared and the hardest rain I’ve ever seen started. It simply poured until the song was over – when the rain immediately stopped and the stars reappeared. No light showers to begin – just water pouring from the sky. No tapering off at the end – it simply stopped! Coincidence??? I don’t believe so.

Well, after thirty-six years, this note will have to suffice for the letters I intended to write. So, I thank the USO, Mr. & Mrs. Bob Hope, his entourage and anyone else involved with that, or any other entertainment ever put together for the troops – except for the platform builders... Mostly though, I thank God for bringing Mr. Bob Hope to us. There has never been – nor will there ever be – another like him.