A few years after returning from Vietnam, an Australian war vet’ reflects on his time stationed at China Beach. While most soldiers are on R&R and content to get drunk and stoned, attention quickly turns to the waves when a solid swell pushes through.
Tracks cover of the October, 1973 issue. Ironically it features Wayne Lynch who famously went AWOL when he was called up to fight in Vietnam.
On surfless days, which. was often, they water-skied or sunbaked. Then, when strong winds’ or typhoons created a swell in the South China Sea, they would surf in the lukewarm water. They had perhaps twenty surfboards between them — most were American boards, some were Australian. At night they could drink beer or smoke potent Vietnamese grass (or both), and sit on the beach beneath the stars, listening to the waves nearby and the sounds of war in the distance.
The surfers were members of the “China Beach Surf Club” – the location was near Da Nang, South Vietnam. These surfers, aged mostly eighteen or nineteen, were in fact military lifeguards, members of the half-million strong military force theAmerican Government had sent to Vietnam. Because their unit was stationed at China Beach, these soldiers and sailors were given jobs as lifeguards. Their main purpose was to prevent combat soldiers, given-three days respite from the affairs of men at war, from drowning themselves at the beach.
It was quite a scene. GIs from various units in the war zone: marines, soldiers, sailors, sitting in the white, hot sun, drinking cans of Schlitz or Budweiser beer, the pages of well-read “Playboy” magazines flapping in the breeze. One of the tasks of’ the lifeguards, who even had a surf shack right on the beach in the best Malibu tradition, was to clean up the beach each evening. They would always find many articles of clothing and sometimes helmets and rifles, lost or left in the sand. A lot of the troops Visiting China Beach were very drunk or very stoned or both.
“I started to run, and seconds later stood before six foot tubes, blown hollow by an offshore wind.”
The first time I saw really good surf at China Beach was in July 1968, just after a tropical storm. Walking towards the beach, I expected the usual flat, placid sea. It was like walking towards Manly Beach the feathering tops of waves could just be seen in the distance. I started to run, and seconds later stood before six- foot tubes, blown hollow by an offshore wind. I ran to the surf shack on the beach, and asked to borrow a board, something ‘a visiting Australian was welcome to do. But no, it was impossible, this day of really good surf, because the Lieutenant had ordered this section of the beach closed. He thought the waves were too dangerous for the soldiers. No board at the shack to be used by anyone, no lifeguards allowed in the water either. A desperate situation when wanting to surf…
