Photo submitted – Schuyler Van Horn and his dog Henry.
By Schuyler Van Horn, member of the Little Falls Historical Society
Recently, we celebrated the 100th anniversary of the end of the Great War. One of the stories was of British and German troops peacefully playing soccer and singing carols on Christmas day in front of their trenches — and the next day going back to the business of killing each other.
I was privileged to have my Hobart College 50th reunion this past summer. I had the opportunity to get together with some of my 1968 classmates who served in Vietnam. In thinking about our discussions I noted a symmetry in our experiences at Christmas with those of our deceased World War I veterans. After all, most Vietnam veterans are now in their 70s or 80s and perhaps not long for this mortal coil.
As a young man growing up in Little Falls, New York in the 1950s and ‘60s I fondly remember the parades on Memorial and Independence days where the local veterans would march and be honored.
I specifically remember the WWI veterans, who by the ‘60s were old and infirm, riding in convertibles, while the WWII veterans, somewhat paunchy and balding, marched with flags and rifles. Most recently I have attended parades where the Vietnam veterans are riding in convertibles and the Desert Storm and Afghanistan veterans, somewhat portly also, march with rifles and flags.
I was drafted into the Army the day after I graduated from Hobart. My story is not unlike others — in fact, Mike Hanna, a fellow classmate, and retired Hobart athletic director met the same fate.
In the summer of 1971, I arrived at “Love Compound,” occupied by 31 other American souls, in An Loc, Binh Long province, 70 miles north of Saigon, near the Cambodian border, on Highway 13, the “highway of tears.” The place was notable for the French rubber plantations. Two thousand ARVN soldiers were next to our compound. The nearest handful of Americans was 20 miles away at a place called Lai Khe, commonly known as “rocket city.”
An Loc was a provincial capital with about 15,000 occupants. Because of the rubber plantations, there was a heavy French presence, which included religion. Most of the inhabitants were Roman Catholic, whereas Vietnam, in general, was Buddhist. There were several Catholic churches dotting the countryside and even a civilian hospital staffed by French nuns.
Christmas away from my family and in a foreign country at war was perhaps the low point of my life.
But because of the Catholic influence in An Loc there were some interesting things that grabbed my attention.
On Christmas Eve day in 1971, I attended a parade in downtown An Loc. It was a Christmas parade celebrating the birth of the baby Jesus. The parade consisted of military vehicles complete with nativity scenes and carolers, all surrounded by dragon heads and fire-breathing beasts. It was somewhat jarring to see, but a melding of many cultures, customs, and religions.
The day before, as the American provincial intelligence officer, I had the privilege of briefing the commander of the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment (11th ACR) about the military situation in my province and in Cambodia. The 11th ACR was on its way to a three-week mission in Cambodia — clandestine of course — slated to start on Christmas Day.
So it was an eventful three days. The briefing on the 23rd, the parade on the 24th, and on Christmas Day watching the 11th ACR (known as the Black Horses) rumble and thunder through An Loc. It took a few hours for the thousands of men, hundreds of tanks, APCs, and motorized howitzers with helicopters roaring overhead to go by Love compound. I remember climbing up the berm of our compound, sitting there in my Bermuda shorts, t-shirt, and shower clogs, in a broken-down lawn chair, watching the scene unfold.
There was a truce in An Loc that Christmas day. Nobody died in combat that day. However, the next day it was back to business as usual. Just like WWI.
Schuyler Van Horn was born in Little Falls. He graduated from Hobart College in 1968 and was in the Army from 1968 to 1972, serving a tour in Vietnam before being discharged as a captain. He attended Albany Law School, began practicing law in Geneva in 1976, and retired in 2013. He and his wife Carol Van Horn have two adult children.