23 May 2011

Sam Castan 12 May 1935 - 21 May 1966










45 years ago Look Magazine senior editor and journalist Sam Castan was killed trying to break out of an ambush that, save two men, wiped out an entire platoon on Hereford Mountain in the Central Highlands of Vietnam. Castan's body was looted of cameras and film only to be recovered from Viet Cong killed in a fight later the same day. These photographs were taken moments before Casten and the men in these pictures were killed.

I grew up staring at the images and wondering about Sam Castan. In many ways I felt like I knew him but it was a romantic image I created. Belted safari jacket. Nikons hanging from his neck. A cigarette dangling from his lips. War photography speaks to me in a terrifying but alluring way.

The photographs were published in S.L.A. Marshall's 1967, 'Battles in the Monsoon.' Castan stayed at my father's Special Forces camp the night before the ambush and remembers the journalist winning at a card game with soldiers of the 1st Air Cavalry and his A Team.

Fran Castan, a poet from Brooklyn and Sams's widow remembers Sam in her poem, 'Operation Crazy Horse.'

A grand Kowloon hotel. A hedge
of red hibiscus. A tiled pool.
A masseuse who pressed fragrant
oil of almond into my body
in the full heat of the sun.
Elsewhere, northeast of Saigon,
a man beheld you, and fired.

At the undertaker's you were
all made up and your hair
was parted wrong, so I smoothed it
the way you would have liked.
Someone shouted Stop, as if we were
caught making love on the couch
in my father's house. God knows

what they feared. Unfamiliar
streaks in your hair must have paled
at the moment of terror
and grown longer in the time since,
eerie as strands of ticker tape
still printing. Such dark hair
shocked white. How afraid you were.
All I could do was hold you.

11 comments:

Oyster Guy said...

Thank you for this. I was not cognizant of either Castan's work but will be making up for that.

Tin-tin's phred/dad said...

Sam Castan was a most excellent photographer and, technically a noncombatant, died a heroic death with a borrowed pistol in hand in that battle. (So did two of my best VN soldiers and one of my SF who was a close friend.)
The soldiers of the 1st Cav were the best I've ever worked with! (That's a huge compliment from an SF guy.) As far as I'm concerned, every one of them was a true hero. We did all we could to help them. In return, they "saved our SF bacon" on numerous occasions. (Cavalry to the rescue, but better than in the movies.)

Ben said...

I'm not certain, but I believe I read everything Slam Marshall had written by the time I was a high schooler.

A special remembrance of just one soul lost in war. Well done.

Michael Rowe said...

Incredible post, for all the reasons I've mentioned before.

Main Line Sportsman said...

These photos really capture a tone and feeling of jungle warriors in their element. Likewise...interesting to learn that the photographer went down with a pistol blazing...literally. Thanks!

BigDaddyMan said...

A guest appearance from the notorious Trad Dad? How cool!

brohammas said...

You go right from a tailor to this? I suppose this is part of your allure right? CLothes and war stories are both part romance, part swagger.
They are both part of the same thing.

Who knew?

GSV JR said...

"terrifying but alluring way," well damn said.

Jeff P. said...

Good stuff, thanks.

greatzamboni said...

Haunting ghostlike pictures.. and that poem.... worth a thousand of them.

Cathleen said...

Wow - amazing photos, poem and story. I just finished reading "Matterhorn" and am imagining some of that narrative matching up with these photos, especially the one of the helicopter, and, of course, the bored, scared kids.