I'm about to tell you about a non-fiction war story that sounds more like "Eddie and the Cruisers" meet "Full Metal Jacket," than it does about the war in Vietnam, but it is all true.
It's about "The Phantoms," pretty much the only Marine Corps Rock Band in Vietnam, circa 1967-1968. I'm the one on the keyboards.
We were a motley crew (no not that "other" rock group) with high ideals, locked and loaded M14 rifles, K-bars across our chests, the worst band equipment in the world, and were based in Chu Lai - the home of the 1st Marine Air Wing.
With the smell of ordnance, jet fuel, and the unmistakable jolt of those old F4B Phantom Jet after burners raging just a few yards from our "hut," a few of us decided to give just a tad more to our brothers (and sisters) than required. Since entertainment was at a premium - and Bob Hope wasn't our resident entertainment, we decided to give the Wing and a lot of surrounding bases, shades of home via rock music. We didn't know how impacting that decision would be. Now, though, all who knew of "The Phantoms," held us in their hearts.
We cleared it through the old man, Colonel Edward LeFaivre
(passed in 1992 - forever in our hearts), and began our search for
other potential members with a beat and just the right amount of
lunacy. C'mon, this was Vietnam, not the Whiskey-A-Go-Go. You just
don't start a rock band in the middle of a war and expect to come out
alive. Once we got the guys, though, we needed the "stuff."
We scrounged the instruments from all over. Richie
Matta, the band's foundational papa in 1966, took up a
collection at the E-club, under the scrutiny of our Top
Sergeant. He hauled in enough to buy everything we needed.
Don't mention the term "Black Market." Richie was the best.
A cross between Radar O'Reilly and Klinger from M.A.S.H., he
could get hold of anything. And he did. We practiced in the Chu Lai Special Services building
where we watched old, "borrowed" reel to reels of Wild Wild
West on the weekends, and got pretty good in spite of all
the rocket and mortar attacks. We played at bases all around I Corps (including tiny
ones where we had to bring in a generator for juice), but
were concentrated in Chu Lai and Da Nang. Rides (aboard 4X4s) and Hueys to and from the gigs
were chancy and dangerous all of the time.
We were the greatest military rock band in the country, thow I heard that MAG12 had one too, and we loved bringing just a skosh of the world to all our bros in the bush, including the airplane jockeys we loved.
Our main objective was to keep hope alive in all the
pilots, grunts, and other Marines throughout the South. We
succeeded. Sure, I admit it. Our legs weren't as nice as Raquel
Welch's, who toured with Bob Hope when we were in country,
and sure, we didn't smell all that great, but we played the
Stones and the Animals with a vengeance. And Richie? He was
the best damned New Orleans-style rhythm and blues singer I
ever heard, then and now. That's why we peppered our act
with The Four Tops, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, and
other hot groups that forced the memories from all of our
minds. Richie, though, had some truly altruistic goals when
he put our group together. "See em out there, Pat?" he said
to me, as we watched a few F4B Phantom jets against the late
afternoon sky. "Those are the guys who put it all on the
line, every day in every way. Those are the ones I want to
reach. Those are the ones I want to wrap up in a lot of
happiness and show them hope in every way I can. We can do
this, Pat. We can entertain them and a lot of others, and
make a difference in this war...not for the effort itself,
but for those who put it all out there without any concern
for themselves."
After the gigs, we un-strapped our guitars, slung our M-14s, and got
back to the real toilet of Vietnam day-to-day. It was the worst of
times. It was all we had, and we made the best of it. Friends and
bros died there.
But I never forgot my "second job" as a rock and roll idol (ahem) who couldn't even let his hair grow long.
So what was one of the 'Nam vets' favorite requests…yeah, besides the Stones' Satisfaction? If you know the tune, sing along. We weren't live at the Greek Theatre. We were live in a war zone:
Of course, if you don't know the tune, you were probably never "in country." You'll just have to take my word for it.
Oh, and one last thing. If you think we didn't make a world of difference to the brave veterans who fought there before, during and after the TET offensive of '68, think again. A smile on the face of those brave men was something they rarely showed. But they showed it to "The Phantoms," pretty much the first US Marine Corps rock band in Vietnam war history.
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COLOR PICTURE ABOVE Left to Right: John McKinney of Ft. lauderdale, Fl.; Gary Wise of Dallas-Ft. Worth, Tx; the "Ice Man" of Sherman Oaks, California; Bob Perkins of Lafayette, La; Richie Matta of New Orleans; and Bobby Einsfeldt, from parts unknown. First Phantoms Picture Courtesy Earl Burkey, Drummer In The First Phantoms Band. |
Hey, it wasn't the
Greek Theatre, it was a war zone. We used a pathetic, tiny
little reel to reel with a small mic to record (you can see
it in the band photo above, on top of the amp), but the
energy and the "stuff" still came through and became a part
of history.
