Good Morning, Vietnam

...to recover contents such as shoes,|socks and undergarments.

And now an item of special note.

Barring any change in the weather,|the softball game...

between the 133rd|and 4th infantry divisions...

will resume as scheduled|at the Ban Mi Thout Park...

corner of Viet Ho and Hguen|Van Theiuh streets here in Saigon.

Please make a note of it.|Excuse me.

Those men who lost equipment|in last week's rains...

are asked to contact|Lieutenant Sam Scheer.

Lieutenant Schneer-- Lieutenant Scheer|asks those men with waterlogged mitts...

to make every effort to dry them out|in the sun before requesting new ones.

Bookworms:
Headquarters|Support Activities Saigon...

operates libraries at six locations|in the Republic of Vietnam.

American personnel can check out a book|in Ku Bai, Da Nang...

Phung Tao, Saigon,|Bien Wah and San Treng.

If you can't stop in|and select your own books...

write to the HSAS Library.

Ask for the books by author,|title and subject...

and your selections|will be mailed to you.

With the holiday season|rapidly approaching...

those personnel wishing|to spend Christmas cards home--

wishing to send Christmas|cards home to the States--

are asked to do so|no later than August 13...

due to a yearly mail rush|at that time.

Don't disappoint your--

watch the liberties you take.

Lost luggage:

regrets any inconvenience...

on transport carriers.

be personnel missing luggage--

Gerald Kleiner over at the 5th.

than four by five inches...

the contents of your duffel.

as all duffels look alike.

Those personnel with lost bag--

- All right.|- Hey, Sarge, where are the women?

- Airman Cronauer?|- You got it.

- Welcome to Saigon, sir.|- Careful. You could|put an eye out with that.

- God, it's warm, huh?|- Warm? No. This is a setting|for London broil.

I'm Private First Class Edward|Montesque Garlick at your service, sir.

Well, first thing, Garlick,|is you gotta requisition a new name.

I like you already, sir.

Actually, what I am, sir, is|your Armed Forces Radio Saigon|assistant who's in charge...

of orientation and billeting of|enlisted personnel, and company clerk.

Whew. I'm impressed.

- It's already started.|- I understand.

Dream on

Dream on

Dream about a love so fine

Sweet as apple-berry wine

Dream on

Dream on

This is AFRS, Radio Saigon.

by the United States government...

carrier frequency of 540...

- at 749 megahertz.|-Jesus, that guy's|as boring as whale sh*t.

Not really.|See, the purpose is to inform you|as to the radius of the radio waves.

- ...by Mantovani.|- Mantovani?

They play Mantovani to insomniacs|who don't respond to strong drugs.

General likes easy listening. You know,|I'm really gonna have to inform you--

Mayday! Mayday! Dragon lady|with incredible figure at 11:00.|Stop the car.

- I can't do that, sir.|- Oh, Edward, Edward,|you don't understand.

I've been on a small Greek island|with a lot of women who look like Zorba.|I never thought I'd find|women attractive ever again.

And now that I do, you won't even|turn the car around? Thanks a lot.

- You have a very important|meeting with the top brass.|- Oh! There she is again!

- How'd she get ahead of us?|- That's another person, sir.

Ah, she's beautiful and quick.|Speed up. Check her stamina.

This is incredible! Oh, my God!|They're quick, they're fast and small.

I feel like a fox|in a chicken coop.

We got a new man comin'in.

- Don't you understand, Dick?|- No, sir. Frankly, I do not understand.

Would you kindly|lower your tone, please?

Yes, sir.

I run this show, General. If anything|screws up, it's my ass in the mower.

I deserve to be notified|of any changes that are made.

Nobody's arguing that with you.

Look, I caught his show on the|Isle of Crete, and this guy is funny.

I damn near busted a gut laughin' at|him. And the troops, they love him.

This is a tempest in a teacup...

much ado about nothing.

For crying out loud, man,|this isn't brain surgery.

Don't get crazy over this, Dick.|We're only talking about a damn deejay.

Sir, there is no such thing as "only"|any more. Not now. Not in Saigon.

Lieutenant Steven Hauk|is our immediate supervisor.

He's a little goofy,|but he's okay.

Sergeant Major Dickerson--|That's another story altogether.

He was a commander|of an elite special forces unit.

He came to us because|of"prostrate" problems...

and some sort of social infection|that doesn't go away.

Plus, I think he got shot in the ass,|but I can't confirm that.

Anyway, he's the man|that you don't want to aggravate.

- Ed, are you always this happy?|- Cronauer!

- Sir!|- At ease. I'm General Taylor.

- Hiya, General.|- A real pleasure.

Listen, if you have any problems|here now, you come see me.

I'm the tallest hog|in the trough around here.

- Garlick, have you put on some weight?|- I don't think so, sir.

Why, son, the shadow|of your ass'd weigh 20 pounds.

I'll work on that, sir.|You're not supposed to address|the general saying "hiya."

- What's that, a new rule?|- No, old rule.

- That's Lieutenant Hauk in there.|- Who's the guy with the ears?

How're you doin'?|You could fly to Guam with those.

Uh, Airman Cronauer, sir.

You know, i-it wouldn't kill you people|to salute me once in a while.

- Sorry.|- Thanks.

I understand you're pretty funny|as a deejay, and...

well, comedy|is a kind of hobby of mine.

Well-- Well, actually, it's|a little more than just a hobby.

Reader's Digest is considering|publishing two of my jokes.

- Really?|- Yeah.

And perhaps some night we could|maybe get together and swap|humorous stories for-for fun.

Oh, why not? Maybe play a couple|of Tennessee Ernie Ford records.|That'd be a hoot.

- That's a joke, right?|- Maybe.|- I get it.

Where is this man's paperwork?

- Right here, Sergeant.|- Thank you, sir.

United States Air Force.|The hat does give you away.

- This is not military issue, Airman.|What sort of uniform is that?|- Cretan camouflage.

If you want to blend into a crowd of|drunken Greeks, there's nothin' better.

That is humour.|I recognize that.

I also recognize|your species of soldier.

I had a guy like you in the field|one time. He blew himself to pieces.

But not before his humour cost the lives|of three very fine individuals.

- I hope--|- You shut your f***in' hole!

You're in Southeast Asia now, pal.|You got your cushy little assignment.

There's nothin' I can|do about that.

In time, you will|make me forget it.

You stay out of my way,|there'll be no problem.

But if you toy with me,|I'll burn you so bad...

you'll wish you died as a child.

- Am I being fairly clear?|- Yes, sir.

"Sir"?|I work for a living, Airman.

You will address me|as Sergeant Major Dickerson.

Yes, Sergeant Major Dickerson.

He reminds me a lot of Donna Reed,|especially around the eyes.

Hello, hello, hello.

This is your chaplain,|Captain Noel...

your radio programme|of personal beliefs.

Great and manifold|are our blessings today.

This great godly miracle|of radio...

really gives me the opportunity...

to speak to you on the air!

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