The daily Admin run to Da Nang was becoming a routine half-day trip. Fernando had mastered all the shortcuts and knew where the traffic would bog down. Certain areas were off limits and patrolled by MP’s.
Reb had another package to mail to Margaret in Sydney. His sketches were protected and sheathed in cardboard. * Reb rarely went anywhere, and it was obvious this parcel was important to him. Both Sumo and I presumed he had fallen in love with her . . . he seemed to be fixated on their relationship.
Thursday at FLC was our day to pick up dry goods which required us to manually transfer stacks of canned goods into the 5-ton truck. It was necessary to balance the load and make room for other stops (meat, produce, bread and ice).
The post office was the last stop, and Reb’s package was put on the scale where the customs forms were completed. He had to make a declaration of value and classified the contents as a gift. The “Postmaster” was suspicious of the package and carefully opened it for inspection. There was no contraband, and everything was resealed before being approved and stamped.
Back at Hill 65 Reb commented, “The post office is similar to a prison. We are like inmates and can’t be trusted.”
* See previous blog, “Collaborative Art” August 22, 1968