My Christmas Story -- How I Saved Bob Hope's Life on Christmas Day
Christmas in Vietnam, 1970
Some of you have seen this story before. But a Marine friend told me that I should share it again on Christmas. I have edited the original slightly, including the addition of a video at the end. So, here goes. . . .
Did you know that I saved Bob Hope’s life 54 years ago in Vietnam, on Christmas Day 1970? And, I might add, Ann Margret’s, too. This is the story. And like all good war stories, it starts out with “This is no s**t. . . .”
Bob Hope’s USO shows in Vietnam
Bob Hope first performed his USO show in Vietnam in 1964. He had continued every year, and the show had become a Christmas tradition by 1970. He was always accompanied by good looking women such as Ursula Andress, Lola Falana, and Joey Heatherton. In 1970 his entourage also included Ann Margret.
On Christmas Day they would be performing at Long Binh, a large supply depo adjacent to Bien Hoa, and just a few miles northeast of Saigon.
Hope was funny, but seeing the “round-eyed” girls was the real attraction. Although thousands of GIs ultimately would attend, most of them would be support troops who were stationed at Long Binh or nearby Bien Hoa. These were the guys whom the combat troops in the field not-so-politely referred to as REMFs. And, no, that is not a “Real Estate Mutual Fund.” The combat troops who were doing the day-to-day fighting got just a few slots. A company sized unit might get two or three slots and the lucky ones would join the thousands of others viewing the stage while sitting on the ground, jammed closely together.
The Bravo Blues
At the time, I was serving as the “Blue” platoon leader for B Troop, 1st Squadron, 9th Cavalry, part of the famous 1st Cavalry Division. I described that unit and the nature our typical missions in a prior Substack article, “Running Through the Fire.”
Generally, the Blues’ mission was to make combat assaults on a moment’s notice where requiring immediate action was required, such as Ranger teams in enemy contact, aircraft taking fire or just spotting enemy forces, downed pilots and aircraft, and other life-threatening emergencies. Even though there typically were only twenty-one of us, we were well armed with six M-60 machine guns and numerous grenade launchers, in addition to our M-16 rifles. With that firepower augmented by our own attack helicopters, we were a formidable force with much more firepower than a standard infantry platoon. This organization and experience made us perfect to serve as the QRF (Quick Reaction Force) for any sudden emergencies or unforeseen enemy action.
Our rear base was at Bear Cat, which was only a short helicopter flight from Long Binh where the Bob Hope and his troupe would be putting on their show.
The risk to Hope and his entourage
For Christmas we were on a stand-down because of a supposed Christmas Truce with the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong. I say “supposed” because we never knew if the truce would be honored or not. Everyone remembered that the VC had launched their massive country-wide Tet offensive in the middle of a supposed truce during the Vietnamese New Year’s celebrations in January 1968.
Because of this uncertainty and the lack of trust in the NVA and VC, the military was rightly concerned about the safety of Bob Hope and the other performers. We may have been especially concerned about Ann Margret. Bob Hope was funny, but Ann Margret was hot!
And, I should add, all the performers were patriots.
All the performers were concentrated in a relatively small area on the stage thousands of spectator soldiers were packed closely together. This what the enemy would regard as a big, juicy, tempting target. Local VC or NVA forces would not give a flip about either Christmas or the truce. They would like nothing better than to kill a large number of soldiers, not to mention a few famous American entertainers.
Such a large, dense group was particularly vulnerable to indirect fire attacks by mortars or rockets. These weapons were designed for such “area” targets and could be fired in relative safety from a distance of several thousand meters.
Risk mitigation
My Bravo Blues did not get a chance to attend the Bob Hope show. We were assigned the mission of being the QRF to respond immediately to any attacks against Hope or his troupe. We were, in effect, their bodyguards, even if they did not know it.
We Bravo Blues were ideally suited for this mission, since we were sitting on the runway right next to our helicopters and could be airborne immediately and on any target within a few minutes. And our helicopter “pink teams” were constantly scouting areas from which the enemy might launch an indirect fire attack with rockets or mortars. If they found anything they would call, “Bounce the Blues.” and we would be in the air and on the way in scant seconds.
If one of the pink teams found enemy firing teams that were not in or near an open area large enough to allow a helicopter to land, we also had had the capability of rappelling out of the bird and through any jungle canopy to land and engage the enemy.
So, we Blues spent Christmas day, sitting next to our Huey birds and secretly hoping that something would happen to require our services and thereby take our minds off the sadness of missing home and family. Of course, we did not want any ill to befall the Bob Hope troupe, but if only one of our pink teams could spot an enemy rocket or mortar team while they were setting up, they would call us, and we would be in business!
Mission success!
Alas, it was not to be. We continued to sit idle, thinking of wives, girlfriends and families opening presents and having Christmas dinner back in “The World,” and wishing we were doing something — anything — other than just sitting on a runway, bored and missing our loved ones.
Little did we know that we were actually contributing to history. Somehow — and this is my story, and I am sticking to it — word must have leaked out to the local enemy commanders that if they dared attack the Bob Hope show, the dreaded, fire-breathing, brick-smoking, nail-chewing Bravo Blues would be airborne instantly and en route to kill them all. Attacking beloved Bob Hope and our heart throb, Ann Margret, would mean an almost-instant death for any enemy soldier so foolish as to try. The word got around, — no doubt about it. In short, we Bravo Blues saved all their lives, just by having developed our fearsome reputation and being ready to live up to that reputation with a precise application of kinetic energy, if called upon to do so.
So, happily, Bob Hope lived for many more years and Ann Margret is still with us today. Mission accomplished!
Here is a short video of part of the Bob Hope 1970 Christmas Day show.
The best line in it is from a soldier whom Hope called up on the stage (at 4:26): “Like I only had one potato chip.” Watch it until the end and you will see why.
Bob Hope, a Great American. RIP.
I was in the audience that day in 1970 and appreciate the "security" the Blues provided us. If my memory is correct, there was a distant explosion, which drew some appropriate "quip" from Bob Hope, and laughter to all.
I was at Pleiku at the time . . . Bob had given us a pass because in a previous year he and his entourage had been "tapped" pretty hard. He decided then that Pleiku was a "hard pass" . . . :) Obviously they should have had your crew tag along as mobile security . . . then we might have been able to see him as well.