World
in Thailand •
The return of the marines to Pattaya’s wild nightlife
The aircraft carrier Lincoln has docked at Laem Chabang after a 260-day mission, having spent 240 consecutive days at sea without touching land for a period of ‘R&R’. Whilst the government in Bangkok continues to emphasise its deep ties with America and is increasingly careful not to jeopardise its relations with Beijing, the military is returning to the city that became notorious for its licence to do as it pleased during the Vietnam War.

Photo: EPA, via ANSA
Welcome Navy, Sailors, Lincoln. Pattaya, the resort town on the Gulf of Thailand, some 100 kilometres east of Bangkok by motorway, welcomed the 5,000 men and women aboard the nuclear-powered aircraft carrier ‘Lincoln’ and the two support ships that docked on 2 September at the nearby port of Laem Chabang, the Thai terminal on the Pacific, north of the Cambodian and Vietnamese coasts. However, the docking of the flagship of the US Navy’s Carrier Strike Group 3 is not motivated by strategic reasons, such as the repositioning of the Pacific Fleet. This explains Thailand’s willingness to welcome it. Although the government in Bangkok continues to proclaim the deep ties that bind it to America, it is, in fact, increasingly careful not to jeopardise its relations with Beijing (nor with Moscow, for that matter).
The ‘Lincoln’ is in Pattaya for a period of ‘R&R’, standing for ‘Rest and Relaxation’ or ‘Rest and Recuperation’. It is important to avoid any confusion with the ‘Rest and Recreation’ leave that hundreds of thousands of American soldiers spent here during the Vietnam War. It was then that Pattaya became famous for its wild nightlife, its clubs and its brothels. Over the decades, this reputation has made Pattaya one of the world’s sex tourism destinations, where it is estimated that between 25,000 and 50,000 ‘sex workers’ operate. It is no coincidence that welcome signs are displayed mainly along ‘Walking Street’, the road lined with go-go bars, massage parlours and lap-dance clubs. To protect their servicemen from Asian sirens, a rule was imposed requiring them to leave Walking Street by 2 am, and Soi 6 – one of the area’s most dubious alleys – was declared off-limits, as were cannabis shops and pharmacies (presumably to prevent ill-advised purchases of aphrodisiacs or other sinful ointments). These bans appear to have achieved their aim: at least up until 4 September (two days before departure), only two sailors were taken into custody following a brawl between drunkards. This is according to the US-Thai Operations Centre, which was based at the Hard Rock Café.
Whether it was for relaxation, recuperation or enjoyment, the sailors and marines aboard the ‘Lincoln’ were in desperate need of it: the ship docked at Laem Chabang after a 260-day mission, 240 consecutive days without setting foot on land. It had left its base in San Diego last November for a six-month mission in the Pacific and the South China Sea. Subsequently, however, it had been diverted to the Persian Gulf following the start of operations against Iran. And the more time passed, the more complaints mounted from the crew’s families, who reported worsening conditions on board the “Lincoln”: mould-infested showers, contaminated water, a shortage of supplies and poor-quality food. However, what is said to have convinced the authorities to recall the ‘Lincoln’ were reports that the sailors were continuing to ‘struggle with fatigue and declining morale’, to the point of harbouring suicidal thoughts. Taken together, these factors suggested that the US Navy lacked sufficient infrastructure to support the mental health and resilience of its personnel, both ashore and on board. The consequences were plain to see as the ‘Lincoln’ entered port: the photos show a ship that looks as though it is destined for the scrapyard.
For a veteran sailor such as Admiral Roberto Domini, president of Cesmar, the Centre for Geopolitical and Maritime Strategy Studies, this is evidence of the loss of that almost symbiotic relationship between the sailor and his ship. “It used to be inconceivable that anything would go wrong, even if it wasn’t of primary importance. It is the result of a social weakness that leads to less resilience during long periods at sea. Back then there were no communication systems; if I was lucky, I’d manage to ring my family – my pregnant wife, as my first child was about to be born – once a week, and it would be something like, ‘Hello, just checking in, how are you? Bye’.”