(2 of 2)
The semis were used to haul cargo to Chu Lai from the piers of Danang, where Feddersen assured the cooperation of dockside boatswain's mates with cold soft drinks ("You get a guy who's been working twelve hours in the sun, and he'd give you the pier for a cold pop"). Simultaneously he began luring empty Marine and Air Force planes through Chu Lai to haul his barter goods. Along with the soda, Feddersen plies his contacts with leather film canisters, elephant-hide wallets and captured Communist weapons that he picked up on forays to upcountry Special Forces camps. He also throws in plenty of "snivel"—the cumshaw artist's constant con talk. Today the "Flying Feddersen Line" carries up to 172,000 lbs. of gear into Chu Lai on a good day.
Next week Feddersen leaves Viet Nam for the Naval Station at Great Lakes, 200 miles from his home town of Shelbyville, Ill. Officially, he will not be remembered—unless by the parsimonious accountants of the Pentagon. "There's an unwritten law in the outfit," says one Seabee officer at Chu Lai. "We don't ask Feddersen what he's doing or how he's doing it. We only talk about what we want and the weather." Thanks to Cumshaw King Bernie Feddersen and his kind throughout Viet Nam, the weather is a lot finer than it might be.