Frankie reflected on the surge of undertrained American troops in Vietnam and the brutal tempo of mass-casualty events at the 71st Evac in Pleiku. She worked grueling hours with Barb Johnson and Lt. Col. Hap Dickerson, performing and assisting in complex procedures under fire and blackout, earning Hap’s trust for high-skill tasks like chest tubes and morphine administration. After an exhausting MASCAL, Hap urged Frankie to decompress, and she joined Barb at the Park, where talk of stateside protests and headlines clashed with their daily losses.

Frankie wrote a candid letter to her parents on November 7, 1967, questioning the justice of the war, noting civilian casualties and the devastation near Dak To, yet pleading for support of the soldiers even if people opposed the war. She requested small comforts to cope with frequent power outages. A mid-November heat wave then turned mud to choking red dust, sapping morale and sleep.

Leaving the OR dazed, Frankie paused by a lone body outside the morgue: a young Black soldier with only one limb remaining. Finding a prom Polaroid labeled “Senior Prom 1966,” she cleaned it and placed it in his pocket, promising at least his body would go home. The scene intensified her sense of a lost generation and drove her back to the Park for hollow distraction.

On a hard-won day off, Barb read a letter from her mother describing civil unrest and Will Johnson’s involvement with the Black Panthers after returning from Vietnam, and fears rooted in past racial violence. The camp radio operator, Talkback, delivered an invitation from Seawolf pilot Melvin “Coyote” Turner to a Saigon bon voyage party, prompting Frankie and Barb to seize the chance to get off base.

In Saigon, an MP escorted them through chaotic streets to the Caravelle Hotel. They spent the day in the French Quarter, enjoying rare comforts—hot showers, a bistro lunch, shopping for clothing, candles, and gifts for Frankie’s parents, and ordering silk ao dai. The contrast between wartime devastation and colonial elegance felt surreal but restorative.

That evening, at a crowded club sending off “Hawk,” Coyote danced with Frankie and flirted. When Coyote tried to introduce his commanding officer, Frankie discovered he was Rye Walsh, her brother Finley’s Naval Academy friend who once told her women could be heroes. Rye greeted Frankie warmly, then stepped back to let her enjoy the night, leaving Frankie awash in memories of home and the person she had been before the war.