SUZIE Q (not by CREEDENCE). Story by Paul Dufficy.

Apocalypse Now film set, the Phillipines, 1976

Things quietened down as plans were made to move to another location. In the downtime, while some of the Peace Corp boys were throwing a knife at each other’s stretched out legs to pass the time, Larry, one of the assistant directors, grabbed five of us and arranged a meet with him by the patrol boat in ten minutes. I think the others figured out that he wanted us to clean it or something because I was the only one to front.

With a minimum of explanation I was told to stand on top of the gently rocking craft, pick up a gigantic hook, and reach for the sky. To my left, about fifty metres away, was the film crew. The sound of Hueys was familiar by now, but when I began to feel the hot downdraft, the set-up became clear. Larry, crouching out of sight of the camera, screamed above the growing roar of the monster:

“Connect that hook to the catch on the Huey!”

The Huey was now a metre above my outstretched arms and blasts of hot air wrapped around my head like a barber’s towel. By now, the boat was pitching violently in the chop created by the rotors. With a jump, I could have touched the hard underbelly of the giant blender, but who wanted to jump? After five attempts that day, we gave up. My career as a boat and helicopter integration engineer ended before it really got started.

The new location was called Hau Phat and the set piece was to involve the recently arrived Playboy Bunnies – Miss May, Miss August and Cyndi Wood – Playmate of the Year in 1974. I had no idea what the scene would involve, but I was chosen to be part of the Military Police who would guard the young women from marauding GIs. Selling smokes at the footy may well have been a top job when I was 12 but guarding Playboy Bunnies made absolute sense at 23.

Unfortunately, when Jerry Ziesmer, another assistant director (not Larry, unfortunately), saw me in uniform, I was sacked with extreme prejudice. Dream shattered. My height was out by inches and my weight way down. Disappointed, I re-joined the throng of audience participants to merely gaze upon the bikini clad visitors. We were issued with bulk copies of the lead bunny’s centrefold.

Bill Graham, the music promoter from San Francisco, was flown in for the occasion. And might I just say, if I had been in charge of hiring a band to do a cover version of the 1957 Dale Hawkins hit Suzie Q, I would have persuaded Creedence to get back together and get over to the Philippines pronto but I wasn’t, so Flash Cadillac and the Continental Kids came along to play the song… again and again and again, take after take, after take.

But to my immense financial good fortune, my Kiwi mate Chris found me in the crowd and said that the stunt coordinator wanted some drug addled, sex starved, and strikingly handsome grunts to hurdle barbed wire, storm the pontoon with the gyrating bunnies, do battle with the M.P.s, knock out the Green Beret escort, grab the girls, and once this is done, head for the Huey. That sounded way better than being an M.P.

Chris was brief.

“He wants me, you and Joe.”

“Why us, man?”

“Dunno, I think he likes Kiwis and Aussies.”

“We’re going to be a little outnumbered I think. “

“Too easy, bro….and we get paid $50 a take.”

In the ensuing fights, I pick out an M.P. that I know so things don’t get too violent each time we have to launch ourselves from the tiered seats, across a small gap, and onto the performance area. When the first few takes don’t come off to the director’s liking, there are rumbles in the crowd and some muttering about wanting to see the bunny girls do even more intricate things with the M-16 weapons that two are now carrying. The drizzle starts, and the night is getting longer.

Bill Graham grabs a mike between takes and offers anyone a free pass to his 1976 Christmas Concert starring Santana and The Grateful Dead at The Cow Palace in San Francisco. You just had to approach the gate and say the password. The password for The Cow Palace Christmas Concert for 1976 was ‘Hau Phat’. Ninety percent of the crowd are either local villagers or Ifagao people who all look on impassively.

Stereo Story 870

Duvall and Dufficy. The author, far right rinsing his feet, stealing a scene from Robert Duvall. Photo by Vittorio Storaro.

Note: Due to the blatantly sexist and exploitative nature of the Apocalypse Now ‘Playboy Bunnies’ scene (which may have been a point director Francis Ford Coppola was making, albeit rather extravagantly), Stereo Stories decided not to include footage which matches Paul Dufficy’s story, and the Suzie Q song. (Suffice to say, the Flash Cadillac clip at the top of the  Stereo Story doesn’t quite capture Coppola’s filmwork.)