Back home again.

This blog will take a departure from my normal blog as I have not posted in a while and I want to tell everyone why this is so.

Thursday a week ago, I had an accidental fall at my house.  I was carrying a bowl of brown sugar mixed with mustard that I was going to use as a glaze for ham that I was going to cook.  When I started to fall, I dropped the bowl to the tile floor and it broke into a million pieces.  I then fell down on the tile and my right knee hit first with me finishing the fall on the hand and right arm into the broken glass.  I am taking blood thinner so when I saw all the blood on my right arm and hand, I called 911.  Well the first EMT personnel showed up five minutes later and stopped the bleeding.  They then took me to the ER at the local hospital.

At the ER they put about 10 stitches in my arm, cleaned up my knee, and sent me home.  I had had a bad experience with this hospital before and I was not going to take the chance that something like that would happen again.  I went to the ER at the VA hospital in Tucson Saturday morning.  They said the arm looked okay but I was getting some swelling on my knee.  They took three x-rays of my knee, which made a total of about 7 with the ones taken at the hospital in Sierra Vista.  No broken bones and no broken glass in it either.  So they bandaged me up and sent me home.

Wednesday morning I got up and my knee and leg was swollen where I could not get around very good.  So, back to Tucson.  I set in the ER from 3:00 pm until about 10:00 pm before the doctors could look at me.  One look and they admitted me into the hospital.  More x-rays, no broken bones, no infection showing up in the knee joint, etc.  Just a bad bruise up front.  They started giving me antibiotics through an IV and I was resting up.  Yesterday afternoon (Friday) they took out the 10 stitches in my arm, gave me some antibiotic pills to take, some pain killers, etc.  I was discharged yesterday afternoon and Mila came and picked me up.  I arrived back home at about 4:00 pm yesterday.  It is sure nice to be back home again.

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life . . . Well my friends, till I get to felling better and the next blog, the Lord be with you. Have a blessed season and a Happy New Year.  God bless.

Wilkommen nach Deutschland!

Guten Morgen! It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life my friends, wake up and take time to thank God and smell the roses along the way.

I always wanted to go to Germany all my life and after spending about 17 years in the Army, getting out to work at Civil Service for four years, with just a few trips to teach the U-COFT in various military bases in Germany.  After I started working for the company who underbid General Electric I was finally being stationed to Germany.

There was two main reasons I wanted to go to Germany.  The first was when I was a young lad, I remember visiting with my dad's folks in Lexington, Kentucky.  On the rare occasion when we stayed over night, I can remember setting at the breakfast table being served Black Forest Ham along with over easy eggs.  When the adults were at the table and wanted to say something not for little ears, they would speak in German. I didn't know what it was at first so when I asked my dad on the way home he told me it was German. That started me wanting to see Germany first hand.  Secondly, when my kids were young as a part of a school project they had to list their ancestry back as far as they could.  Of course they came to me.  I did some research into the family ancestry and I was hooked.  I took it all, hook, line and sinker.  In my research I found that my dad's folks came to America in the mid-1700's from Germany and Alsace-Loraine, France.

As I stated before, my headquarters over there was in Grafenwoehr, but I made my headquarters out of Vilseck.  While in country, I rented a small but nice room in the Gasthof Goldener Greif in Edelsfeld, Germany.  I was over there alone so the one small room was nice, in a nice, quite town.  On Saturday morning when I was not on the road tracing down ancestors, I was at the local soccer field, cheering on the team from Edelsfeld.

A little over half way through my obligation to the company, my daughter, Michelle had graduated from High School and she came over to join me in Germany.  I was sending just about all of my salary home to Mila so I could not afford two rooms at the Gasthof.  I got to looking around at found a nice up stairs, two bedroom efficiency apartment in Dorfgmund, Germany, which was half way between Vilseck and Grafenwoehr. This suited us just fine.  We only had German TV there but there was a VHS hooked up to the TV.  I picked up a Walt Disney film, Pete's Dragon, at the PX in Grafenwoehr.  Michelle and I just about remembered all the songs and words to it because we played it so much.

I was busy with work during the week but on weekends we traveled to different places sightseeing.  I never did get into the Volks Marches over there like so many Americans.  I was mainly interested into family history.  Mila did finally come over to join us there but she was cold and bored with the place so she went back  to Sierra Vista to get ready for us when my time was over on the contract.

On one of my trips to Germany, I was there to see the Wall come down and many other interesting things. I visited many places while I was there, Berlin, Bonn, Frankfort, Baden-Baden, Heidelberg, Stuttgart,  Nuremberg, Munich and Hamburg, just to name a few of the towns I worked in.  I visited in Belgium, France, Switzerland, Austria and Czech Republic. I did get to see Europe.

I will update you on what has happened since I have returned on the next blog. Til then . . .
Auf Wiederschen . . .
 

Daytona Beach . . then Arizona . . then Germany..

So, I was hired by General Electric at Fort Knox to do the same job that I had been doing at Civil Service.  General Electric decided that I needed the Instructor Course that had set up at Daytona Beach, Florida.  So, I reported in at the General Electric building on Valencia Blvd., right across the street from the Daytona 500 Raceway.  We spent the first couple of days in-processing and getting to know our way around Daytona Beach.

I was setting in back of the classroom the first couple of days.  As I said before, the building is right across Valencia Blvd. from the raceway.  At the start of day two of the class, I moved up to the front so I could heard way the instructor was saying over the sound of the cars going around the track. Boy, was it ever noisy.

After four or five days, the instructors come to realize that I was way ahead of the class on the subjects being presented, so I was called out of class to help the instructors with the flight simulators.  This was really interesting to me.  No longer worrying about tanks but how to fly planes, bombers, fighters, etc.  After that they fairly left me alone as long as I reported in first thing on Monday morning.  At this time something interesting happened.

I was at the Valencia Mall one Tuesday and to my surprise I ran into a whole bunch of security guards.  They were protecting Tom Cruse and Nichole Kidman.   They were in town getting ready to film their new movie, "Days of Thunder".  There was a sigh up sheet for extras in the movie.  I was ready to sign when I got to thinking, I work for General Electric.  So they were going to be there for another day of signing so I went to the boss at General Electric and was told in not uncertain terms was I to sign up to be an extra.  Well, there went my shot at Hollywood.

I finished up the course and got my certificate saying I was a certified Instructor/Operator of the U-COFT system.  When I got back to Fort Knox, I reported back in to George, and he he said I have some bad news and some bad news.  He said pack your bags.  They were sending me to either one of three different places and I had my pick.  The three choices were: 1) El Paso, Texas, 2) Tucson, Arizona, and 3) El Centro, California.  All were to train up the National Guard.  That night I talked it over with the family and we decided on Tucson, Arizona.

It was just Mila, Michelle and I that was moving.  Michelle was fixing to start her senior year at Buena High School.  Mike was already going to the University of Louisville, so we decided to leave him there.  When we got to Tucson, it was Cinco de Mayo.  Tucson was really crowded so we did not have much of a choice of Hotels or Motels to stay at.  I was informed that I was to train up the Arizona National guard.  They would come from Phoenix, Tucson, and Fort Huachuca.  The next day we moved down to Sierra Vista, Arizona.  This is the Fort Huachuca town.  All the national guard units did their training down at the Fort.  Sierra Vista was similar to Radcliff, Kentucky where we had been living, so we felt right at home.

Everything went fine from May to December.  When I called my weekly status in to Fort Knox, I was told that General Electric was underbid on the U-COFT contract so I needed to find me another job.  I ask who got the contract and was given the run around.  Finally I called and got the secretary on the line and she said a place out in Maryland and gave me the name.  I went straight to the library and pulled out the Standard and Poor book and looked them up.  I got the name of the recruiting officer and his phone number.  I called him up and explained why I was calling.  He sounded interested but was fixing to go to an important meeting and he said he would call me as soon as he was free.  Twenty minutes later he called, wanted to hire me on the spot but he told me to talk it over with the family.  He was offering a nice salary, all tax free, the only catch was I had to relocated to Germany.

That evening I talked it over with the family, called him up the next morning and got the details.  They would be relying heavily on me because of my experience with the equipment.  Their headquarters over in Germany was at Grafenwoehr, the Armor Center, and I would be staying in the little town of Vilseck, Germany, which is very near to the headquarters. They told me even though I was stationed there, I would be doing a lot of traveling on the Autobahn.  They said not to worry as I would be driving a company station wagon with all my tools and equipment in the back.

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life my friends, til the next time . . .God Speed.

Civil Service, or civilian servant.

Here I was, just new out of the Army.  It was a strange feeling.  Once I was out of the Army I told myself that there would be no more waking up at 'zero dark early' for me.  Guess what?  Even to this day, I find myself going to bed early and rising about 4:00 A.M. each and every morning.

For the first two years after being kicked out, I took jobs with small, local, loan companies.  One was located in Radcliff, Kentucky and the other was in Elizabethtown, Kentucky.  Like I said this lasted for about two, two and a half years.  I worked mostly in the loan collection department.  Which means that nearly every Friday was spent out of the office, on the road collecting outstanding debts.  At the end of this time, I remember this one Friday very clearly.  On the next to last stop, I went up to the door and knocked.  The man who answered opened the door and told his dog to get me.  I got back into my car just before the dog could rap his teeth around my leg.  I drove away from there and wrote up the incident.  I was glad that I only had one more stop before I could call it and go home to rest.

The last stop of the day.  I went up and rang the door bell and the lady who had the loan answered the door.  I told her who I was and what I was there for.  She told me to wait a moment she would be right back, and closed the door.  A few minutes later she opened the door and had her purse in hand.  She was reaching into it to pull out some money, I thought.  Instead, she pulled out a pistol.  Pointed it at me and told me to get off of her property.  Needless to say, I got into me car, expecting to be shot in the back at any time.  I went home and did not mention any of this to my family.  Monday morning, back at the office, and told the manager I wanted to talk with him in the back room.  I told him of what happened Friday evening and that he needed to get some else to work my job because I no longer was working there.  I walked out of the back room, got into my car and drove straight to the employment office at Fort Knox.  I applied for a teaching job with the Weapons Department.  Then I went home and let myself wind down.

About two weeks later I accepted a teaching position with the Weapons Department at Fort Knox as a temporary civil service employee.  We had to pitch the class to a bunch of our peers before we were qualified as instructors.  Being I had previous experience teaching, it wasn't long before I was rated as a platform instructor on all subjects and also rated as a small group instructor.  After being with the Weapons Department for about two years, the Army bought a tank simulator from General Electric and I was transferred to the Simulation Section of the Weapons Department.  This new simulator was called U-COFT, which stands for Unit Conduct of Fire Trainer.  This simulator was used to train up tank crews (minus the tank driver) to combat effectiveness.

Let me explain about how the temporary civil service ranking worked at that time.  It has been so long and I have not kept up with the changes so I may be different now.  At that time you could be a temporary employee for 3 years and 364 days.  If you had 4 years as temporary, they had to make the position permanent.  This all had to do with insurance.  After working in Simulations for about a year, I started going TDY (Temporary Duty Change) to teach operators how to run the simulator.  The course was 5 weeks long and I was only authorized to teach in the continental United States.  Only the Military was authorized to teach the course overseas.  I was getting close to my four years when I was approached by the Major who was in charge of the Department.  He told me that he did not have any military instructors who wanted to go on a three month teach to various locations in Germany and he wanted me to go.  I did some quick calculations and figured that would definitely put me over my four years. Yes, I went as the backup for the primary instructor who was in the military.

He was an old military man and he ended up not showing up for most of his classes so I had to take over.  Halfway through the course in Fulda, Germany, they called me from Fort Knox and told me to cancelled the class and come home because they did not have enough money to pay for me to being overseas.  This was on Tuesday when they called and they told me to be back to Fort Knox by Friday of that week so I would be able to process out of civil service.  I went down to the local Army ADCO office and told them my predicament.  I was told due to the hurricane that had hit the east coast of the states, they were only letting active duty military go back to help their families.  Friday was my last official date, but I did not get back until Tuesday of the following week.

I picked up my clearance papers and finished out processing in one day.  The next day I went to visit my next door neighbor who was in charge of the General Electric side of the house. So the very next day I went to work for General Electric doing the same job I was doing for civil service.

More the next time.  It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life.  Have a good day my friends.

Fort Knox . . or not . . .

After being frozen in Korea, I had orders in hand and reported back to Fort Knox.  This time I was assigned to the Weapons Department at the Armor School.  General Patton's son, General Patton, was head of the Armor School at that time.  General Patton, the son, was just like his father before him, you did not want to be on his bad side.  I was a platform and also a small group instructor, in any subject that pertained to tanks, how the move, shoot and communicate.

We, my wife and I, had to kids at that time, our oldest, son Michael, and recently born daughter Michelle.  They assigned us quarters at Pritchard Place this time, it was for senior NCOs.  Being I was the senior NCO in our quarters, I had to make sure that everyone cut their grass, that they did not accumulate trash behind their assigned quarters, everyone had name plates on their doors and that no junk cars were littering the parking slots in front of the quarters.  From our upstairs window, you could look out across Dixie Highway and see the gold Depository across the way.

Everything was going great.  Up til now . .  The U.S.Army had in effect at that time the following suggestion: If you had completed a hardship tour (Korea) then you were given 18 months at your home base, mine being Fort Knox.  Then they would send you on a long tour (Germany) for two to three years with your family.  I had been working for about 8 months of my 18 months home base tour, and I only had about 6 months left before I needed to re-enlist.  I was coming up on 17 years of service.  I had 6 months left before I could re-enlist and finish up my home base tour and then be sent on a tour to Germany.

One morning at formation, the first Sergeant called me out of formation and wanted to see me in his office.  I was thinking, what did I do wrong now, I could not think of anything to be called out for.  Well, he told me that I needed to report to a certain Captain at 401st Personnel Services Company.  The First Sergeant told me that he had heard through the grape vine that I had come down on levy for overseas duty.  Before going and reporting as ordered, I visited my friend, the Sergeant Major who had connections in the Pentagon.  He called his friend and was told I had come down of levy for Korea again.  I asked the Sergeant Major how that could be as I had just finished up a tour there.  Well, his friend at the Pentagon said that there was nothing I could do because the Brigade Commander over there said I did such a fine job for him he wanted me back, requesting me by rank and social security number.  What he said was that I should just accept the assignment and go on.  So with this information in hand, I headed to the 401st PSC.

I reported to the captain as ordered by the First Sergeant.  I did not like this captain's attitude one bit.  I was really in not mood to be doing this right now.  I should have waited a day before reporting to her.  Off the bat I told her that I did not want to go back to Korea.  She said I was going.  So, there we were, in a Mexican standoff.  Yes you are, No I'm not.  Finally I pulled up the idea about serving one short tour right behind another short tour.  She said no regulation for that.  I pulled up another card to throw into the pot.  My ETS (Separation date from the Army) is in 6 months, a tour in Korea was 13th months.  I also told her I had saved up a little over 60 days leave and I would take it.  So, finally she said "West, when you re-enlist you will have enough time to finish the tour in Korea.  I told her that there would be no re-enlistment unless she changed my orders to Germany, then I would re-enlist to finish up my time.  She told me that I had to re-enlist.  West you are a career soldier and you have to re-enlist to finish your time to retirement.  Finally she said I will send you over for only 6 months if this is the way you want it.  She had me backed up into a corner with no other way out.  You go right ahead and send me.  I will take my 65 days of leave after I report into Korea, that after that I will be sent to clear country for my ETS.  Then I will write to my senator, Mitch McConnell and tell him about the waste of time and money on this circus.  By this time she was red in the face and told me to come back tomorrow and sign a letter of intent not to re-enlist, basically finishing my military career with only 17 years.

After this slight altercation, I went back to the Weapons Department to finish my work for the day.  Before I left for the day the First Sergeant called me and wanted me to stop by his office to see him before I went home for the day.  When I entered his office he was smiling and he asked me what was I thinking?  The captain had called him up and really chewed him out for my actions.  I spent about an hour telling him about the little 'card game' we had about my assignment.  West, he said, you are throwing away 17 years.  I said yes, but I was not going to go back to Korea.

So, after about 6 months, I said the same thing General MacArthur said at his fair well speech to Congress,  Old soldiers never die, they just fade away.  So I bid fare well to the U.S. Army.  Welcome civilian life. 

Korea - Land of the Frozen Chosen.

Now that the Thanksgiving Holidays are over, I can continue where I left you all hanging.from the last time.  I try my best to post a new blog every other day.

Korea, in all of its travel brochures calls itself 'The Land of the Morning Calm,' those of us in the military who are sent there call it 'The Land of the Frozen Chosen.'  Nothing, I mean nothing, is colder that a winter morning in Korea.  I thought I was cold a few times on the farm growing up, going out on a winters day to get wood to burn in the stove at home.  Quite a few times I would go to bed, frozen, wake up in the middle of the night, frozen, and wake up in the morning, frozen.  I don't care how cold it was outside, we still had to take care of washing up clean, and shaving each morning.  Many the morning out in the field where we had to take out our steel pots, helmets, put cold water in them and place them on the back of the tanks where the exhaust came out to get the water warm enough for this necessity.  Forget skipping it on cold morning because that is when the platoon leader and platoon sergeant would come by to inspect just for that.

When I reported in, the Brigade S-3 (Operations and Planning), asked me, 'Are you THE Master Gunner that we were promised?  I told him that I did not know anything about a promise, but, yes, I was in the first class of Master Gunners to graduate from Fort Knox.  They called in the brigade Sergeant Major and introduced me as the new 'Master Gunner.'  The Sergeant Major said good, we were expecting you earlier, but the Colonel wanted to talk with me the minute I came into the unit.  I marched right into his office after being told to 'Enter' and reported to him.  After the salute, he got up stuck out his hand and introduced himself to me and asked me to have a seat.  He told the Sergeant Major to have some coffee sent in to us.

He started it off by saying that the position of Master Gunner was new to him and he asked me about the school, what it taught and what we were told to expect to do out in the field.  After explaining all this to him we got down to the nitty gritty.  He gave me all the statistics of his last tank gunnery program.  How many tanks they had that was ready at the time to be able to perform at 100 percent for gunnery.  He explained that for all the crews to fire qualifying rounds in his last gunner program was 72 percent.  He asked me what I thought we could do.  I explained that I had nothing to do with the tank maintenance, that was up to his motor pool mechanics.  I said we need to set up gunnery programs for the crews to be able to maintain their proficiency from one tank gunnery to the next one.  He told me that he was making me responsible for the next tank gunnery qualifying tables.  If I had any supplies that I need to see his S-3 and S-4, and that if any of his company commanders had problems getting their people to my classes to come to his office and he would take care of the problem.

So, for the next few months I was bounced around between companies measuring they readiness for tank gunnery.  As it got closer and closer to tank gunnery, I was expected out on the tank ranges day and night.  After putting all of his tanks through the course, he called me into his office and told me that 89 percent of his crews qualified.  He asked me what I wanted to do next.  I told him that after a few days off for the crews, I needed to get them back to the classroom and continue on with the training so they would retain what they had just learned.  His words were, SSg. West, you are a man after my own heard.  Job well done.

Mila, my wife, had decided to visit with her parents and brother and sisters in Manila while I was in Korea, which was an unaccompanied tour.  While there, our daughter, Michelle Elaine was born in Manila. Mila had by this time become a naturalized citizen, so when Michelle was born, she was recorded as a U.S. Citizen, born on foreign soil.

I had finished up my 13 months over there, and the Colonel extended me two months to finish up on the training cycle I was working on.  I got my orders assigning me to the Armor School at Fort Knox.  Heading back to Kentucky.

Til the next time, my friends, have a wonderful time.

Tanks, tanks and more tanks.

As soon as I received my orders from the First Sergeant at the Reception Station, I went over to the 194th Armor Brigade where I was being assigned.  The Brigade Sergeant Major asked me what I knew about tanks.  I told him that I could recognize them 10 times out of 10, but I had never in my life been in one.  He laughed and called a SSG (Staff Sergeant) (E-6) to come into the orderly room.  He introduced us and told him in two weeks he wanted me trained up on the M48A3 and the M60A1 main battle tanks, how to drive, how to load the main gun and the machine guns, and the duty and responsibilities of each of the tank crewmen, the driver, the loader, the gunner and the tank commander.  After two weeks of sunup to sundown training, we reported back to the Sergeant Major.  He asked me some questions and I answered them all correctly.  After that, he said that the only spot he had opened for me was with D Troop, 10th Cav., the Old Buffalo Soldiers.

D Troop, 10th Cav. was basically a scout company, pressed into duty to support the Armor School with tanks and personnel.  The tanks were the M551 Sheridan Light Tank.  It was called a 'light' tank because the skin was made of aluminium. There was some armor around the turret.  This tank was able to parachute into combat and it could also swim rivers.  The main gun was a 152mm main gun/launcher.  It not only fired conventional ammo but it was able to launch a MGM-51 Shillelagh guided anti-tank missile.

I moved up fast in the ranks at D Troop, finally becoming a tank commander.  I was the 'top gunner' out of the Troop.  One day I was approached by a Sergeant First Class and he asked me how good I was with a rifle.  I told him that I had fired as Expert Marksman with the M-14 rifle, the .45 Cal. pistol, and I had also qualified with the M-3 Machine Gun (Grease Gun).  He came by the next day and picked me up and took me out the the rifle range.  He had a M-14 Sniper rifle and he let me fire about 50 rounds downrange.  I hit each of the targets pointed out to me to engage.  He left and went to talk with an officer standing in the back watching me shoot.  When he came back, he asked me if I wanted to be an Army Sniper.  I thought for a minute and told him that I had no problem being in a 'fire fight' where everyone was shooting at each other, but that in a clear conscious I would have a problem sneaking up on someone, who did not have an idea I was anywhere near, and then shooting them.  They returned me back to the unit orderly room and I never saw them again.

Soon after this, I was transferred to K Troop, 13th Cav. which was just then being organized as a part of the 194th Armor Brigade.  When I signed into the new company, there was only four people in it.  The Troop Commander, the First Sergeant, the Training NCO, and myself.  Before any new men could sign in, the First Sergeant went to Brigade, came back with a sorry look on his face.  He called me in and said that he had just been hit up to supply one NCO E-6 or above to go to a new class the Armor School had come up with.  I was the only one other than the training NCO who filled the qualifications.  He hated it because he was loosing me for about 12 weeks, the length of the school.  It was called the Master Gunner Course.  I was in the initial class 10 students.  The mission of the Master Gunner was to become an expert in all aspects of Tank Gunnery.  We were to work directly with the Battalion Commanders in the field of Tank Gunnery.  Out class, being the first one, was with the new M1A1 Abrams Main Battle Tank, replacing the old M60A3.  The M1A1 was a definite improvement over the M60A3.  The main gun was a 120mm smooth bore cannon.  This gun was a copy of the British Main Battle Tank.  I believe it was call the Chieftain Tank.  After the course, I went back to my unit wondering what was now going to happen.  Before we had even the first tank assigned to our Troop, I was alerted for overseas movement.  I was being assigned as an M1A1 Master Gunner to Camp Casey, Korea.

Well, it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life.  Till the next time my friends . . . .

Fort Knox, first stateside duty appointment.

I was just beginning a new four year enlistment and was sent to Fort Knox for initial in processing and waiting for my MOS assignment.  I was assigned initially to B Company at the Reception Station.  I did not have to go back through basic again, but I did need to receive my initial clothing issue and to re-qualify with the M-14 rifle and the .45 Cal. pistol.  While waiting in line to be measured for clothing, the drill instructors would come around and hassle the new 'cruts'.  One of them, a real short 'buck' Sergeant, decided he was going to get on my case because I was older that most of the guys coming through.  He was laughing and telling his friends how he was going to run me into the ground.  I had been a SP/5 E-5, the same pay grade as  he was when I got out the first time.  I did loose one grade because of the two year separation in service. So, he was following me down the line, cussing up a blue storm, and when we got to the end of the line, the NCOIC (Non Commissioned Officer in Charge) of the Quartermasters stopped me and gave me my E-4 ranks to go on my uniforms.  Should have seen the look of the DI, he couldn't believe it.  His whole attitude changed, he came around to my side and asked what the E-4 stripes was all about.  I explained to him I had four years of prior service, I was not going back through basic, and I was assigned to the Reception Station waiting on orders.

The command Sergeant Major was an older man who had been my First Sergeant on my prior assignment to Okinawa, Japan.  He had me doing odd jobs around the Reception Station area.  Re-wiring and old building, painting and for a few weeks being first assistant to the Mess Sergeant.  This is where I learned a lot of baking and cooking.

One day, at the Reception Station they had family day.  All the mothers and fathers and girl friends of the recruits came for visits.  The Sergeant Major wanted to set the reception up in the picnic area behind B Company.  My job was to make everyone feel at home, make sure there was coffee, ice tea, donuts, finger foods, etc.  The company clerk of Company B was a man by the name of Rape.  So, here I was, making sure everything was okay with all the families there.  The First Sergeant came out of the Orderly Room, came over to where I was and asked me if I had seen the clerk anywhere.  I told him that I had not seen him since early that morning.  So, the First Sergeant in his loud, command voice, in the middle of the reception called for his clerk, "RAPE. . . RAPE."  Needless to say, it got so quite you could hear a pin drop, his face turned red as a beet and he turned around and went back into the Orderly Room.  I explained to the families there what had happened, an the everyone had a big laugh at the First Sergeant's expense.

Not long after this incident, I was called to the orderly room and the First Sergeant said that my MOS reclassification had come back.  They were going to make me an 11B, a basic infantryman, which meant that I would be going to Fort Benning, Georgia for further training.  I did not want to be in the Infantry so I decided on my own that I would rather be an 11E, which is an Armor Crewman.  Being an Armor Crewman was taught at the home of Armor,  right there at Fort Knox.  So I went to see my friend, the Sergeant Major, who told me he had a friend at the Pentagon he would call.  Two days later, I received my orders, 11E with a refresher course and then assignment to the 194th Armor Brigade there at Knox.  I had been traveling between Pleasure Ridge Park in Louisville to Fort Knox daily.  When I got my orders assigning me to Knox, we sold our trailer and moved into enlisted quarters on post.  This was Gaffey Heights, close to the gold repository. Not long after this move, our son, Michael, was born at Ireland Army Hospital at Fort Knox.

Married life . . .

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life,  hello to all of my friends out there in Blogland.  From my last blog, I was running around different places all over Southeast Asia.  I was based out of the 51st Special Operations Unit on Okinawa.  Like I said, it was a little Unit called Torii Station out of Yomatan, which was close to Kadena Air Base.  After two years of this, I was nearing my ETS (Estimate Termination of Service) date.  And I was looking forward to getting out.  Here is the reason why . . .

I had over the two years on Okinawa carried on a correspondence with Mila back in the Philippines and had got to know her pretty well.  In fact, I proposed marriage to here through the mail system.  She had accepted my proposal.  I had over two years put in paperwork to marry her, but my paperwork kept getting lost.  I had put it in three different time and all was lost.  I was told later that the reason it was 'lost' was that I had a Top Secret Crypto clearance.  If I got married to a 'foreign national', I would lose my clearance and would not be able to work my job, either of them.  That was why I was wanting out.  Love concurs all.

I try to get out of having to go back to CONUS (Continental United States) to get out and tried to ETS in Hawaii.   They disapproved this and said that I must go back to Travis Air force Base in Oakland, California.  It had been three years since I had seen my family back in Indiana.  So I got out, flew to Indianapolis where my family was glad to see me back home.  It was nice to get some home cooked meals that I grew up with.  On the third day home, I was up early, writing a letter to Mila telling her of my plans.  When my mom came it the room she asked me who I was writing to and I told her.  She sat down and we had a little talk.  She asked me how long it took the mail to get to her and I explained that normally it would take all of 14 days or longer to arrive.  Mon then said if you really care about her, forget the letter, get you a plane ticket and fly back to the Philippines and get her.  I tore up the letter, got me a ticket for the next day and flew back.

Mila was sure surprised to see my back there.  When I rang the bell at the gate to their compound, the maid came out, she was surprised to see me, forgot to open the gate and ran back into the house, leaving me outside.  When she told Mila I was outside, she could not believe it.  After running to the American Embassy and everyplace in between, we were married and her father bought us plane tickets back to the states as a gift.  We spent a couple of days in Tokyo, Japan on our way home. A little side note: Mila and I have been married for 44 wonderful years.

We stayed with my parents for a couple of months till we both found jobs and also an apartment in Madison, Indiana.  I was working long hours at the Grote Manufacturing Company and Mila got a teaching job with Pope John XXIII Grade School, both being in Madison.  After a year of this, we moved to Bloomington, Indiana where I took the GI bill and attended my freshman year at Indiana University.  We had bought a trailer and was living out on Vernal Pike.  After my freshman year, we decided that I needed to go back into the Army.  Back to the induction center at Indianapolis.  Raised my right hand again for four more years.  But, being my security clearance had been pulled I could not go back to my former job with the Army Security Agency.  I did not have to go through basic training so they were sending me to Fort Knox, Kentucky to await my orders and notification of my next assignment.

We moved our trailer down to Pleasure Ridge Park, half way between Louisville and Fort Knox.  The park was very close to Ky 31W Highway, known as Dixie Highway, or due to the many accidents that happened there, Dixie Die Way. 

In my next blog, I will tell you about our kids and about my experiences at Ft. Knox, Kentucky.

Okinawa . . . the Rock.

My second tour of duty was with the 53rd Special Operations Unit, Torii Station, Okinawa.  We called this Island - The Rock.  It is a part of the Ryukyu Island chain that belongs to Japan.  This volcanic island is only about 70 miles long and about 30 miles wide.  There a quite a few nice beaches on the island but you have to worry about coral.  It is ruff on feet and on shoes. The meaning of the word, 'Okinawa' is 'Sea Rope', which is what the Japanese thought it would look like from above.  It was a good thing that I was doing a lot of travelling at this time or I would have gone crazy on the 'Rock'.  I did do some work while I was there in our Operations Building.  Another building surrounded with government fence topped with razor wire and with no windows to look out at the sky.

I remember one evening fixing to go to work and the platoon sergeant told us to put on our steel pots and ponchos because we were being hit by a typhoon.  Our Operations Building is only about 35 - 40 feet above sea level, we had to walk down a sidewalk parallel with the beach to get to work.  There was a government fence along this sidewalk separating Torii Station from the public on the other side.  Along this fence was a public grade school for little kids.  I remember that we used to pass apples and oranges from the mess hall over the fence to watch the kids fight for the food.  I noticed that one little girl did not ever get any of the apples or oranges because she was so small.  After we had passed over the fruits and everyone was fighting for them, I motioned her over to the fence and passed her a candy bar through to her.  After that day, when she saw us coming, she would light up when she saw me.  I always had a candy bar or chewing gum for her.

On the day the typhoon was beating down on us, there was no kids in sight.  In fact, we had to walk bent way over to keep the wind from blowing us away.  Once we were in the Op Center, we were told to relieve the trick working there and let them go while they could.  Well, eight hours later, no relief was in site for us, we opened the outside door and the wind was still blowing strong.

Finally after about 16 or 17 hours on the job, out relief showed up and we went out to a strange new world outside.  Between the side walk back to the barracks and the beach was a great big, ocean going ship, beached, completely out of the water.  Even though we were only 35 feet above sea level, we were quite a way from the actual ocean.

On one of my down times between flying around and actually working at the Op Center, some guys from our trick rented a boat and went deep sea fishing.  I was laying up on the top of the deck while everyone was below deck fishing.  I fell asleep.  When I woke up two hours later, I was sun burned, almost a lobster red.  I put in for the evening on the home island of the man who owned the ship.  We built a bonfire on the beach but I could not enjoy it because of the sun burn.  I was still red but the soreness had worn off by the time I had to report back for duty.  I sure did not need an Article 15 for being sun burnt.

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life.  Enjoy it while you can.

Until the next time my friends, God speed.

Well, it's a new dawn, it's a new day and it's a new life.

After being in-country for about one year of a two year tour, rumors were flying left and right like no body's  business. The Rumor that later proved to be true was that those of us in an overage MOS (Military Occupation Specialty) 05K (Non-Morse Intercept Operator) were getting our overseas assignment  to Clark Air Base cut from twenty four months down to eighteen.  We were to cross train our jobs over to guys of the Air force Security Squadron.  They said we had six weeks to cross train out replacements but the guy who was replacing me was a quick study and he was handling an eight hour shift on his own with only a question now and then after two weeks. Maybe the Army would come to its self and end up sending me to Vietnam after all.

This proved to be a very busy time for me.  One of my friends at that time was a guy named Ron.  He was from Texas, was talk and lanky, and spoke with a funny accent.  I later found out this was called an East Texas Twang.  Ron was taking college courses the University of Maryland at that time.  The University of Maryland had contracted through the University of the Philippines in Quezon City to send one of their professors up to teach the class on Clark.  Ron invited me to go to class on Thursday evening and then he was going to treat me to a stake dinner afterward.  After class, Ron and I was talking with the professor and was invited down to tour the campus on Saturday morning.  Ron and I agreed to meet her Saturday morning at the Campus. We got on a bus and went to Manila Friday evening.

When I stay in Manila then I stayed in the Manila Hilton.  If this hotel was good enough to be General Douglas MacArthur's Headquarters during the war, it was good enough for me.

We met the professor Saturday morning.  After we visited a few of the building, we were at the Gym/Swimming Pool when a runner came up and informed the professor she was needed at a meeting with the Dean of the School.  She introduced us to one of her students standing near by and told her of the problem.  Her student promised to show us around.  Ron was doing most of the talking and I noticed she was carrying  a large amount of books.  So, being the gentleman my father and mother brought me up to be, I volunteered to carry her books for her. After she had taken us around the campus, she invited us over to her parents house to meet her family.  Right off the bat, I could tell her mother thought we were nothing but GIs looking for a good time.  Her father, on the other hand, really like us.  He was a real estate broker for a retired judge.  Her name was Milagros Rubio Legarda.  Later on in time, she would change her name to Milagros Legarda West.  I visited with this fine family a few more times during what little time I had left before being re-assigned.

I was told that the Army Security Agency (ASA) had a shortage of my MOS on Okinawa, and that was where I was going when my orders came through.  My replacement was already working my position, personnel did not know when the orders would come through, so I was waiting.  I could not always get a pass to visit with the Legarda family as much as I would have liked to as I was growing attached to them.  So, my time was spent on base at a small cafe which had very good coffee.  On the third or fourth day at the cafe I was approached by two men.

These men were in three piece suits, expensive, had buzz hair cuts. They came over and sat down at me table without saying a word.  They then told me that they had been checking me out for the last month and a half and asked me if I would work with them.  I told them I was awaiting orders for Okinawa, and then was told they would take care of that.  They would let me sign in to my reporting unit on Okinawa, give me suits like they had on, and that I would be taken off all duty rosters.  I became very suspicious and asked them what I was going to be doing for them.  They then explained that they wanted me to become a courier for the Department of Defense.  I would be given a free, get out of jail ID card, and I would be doing some traveling.

I then proceeded to sign in on Okinawa.  They contacted me through the orderly room.  I then  to the flight line at Kadena Air Force Base where they handcuffed a briefcase to my wrist and put me on a small jet. Then I began to travel.  Some of the places they sent me was:  Tokyo, Bangkok,  Sydney, Manila, Paris and a few other places that I still can not talk about.

 

Fire Engine Red. . .

Upon arrival at Clark Air Base, as part of the in-processing of NUGs (New Guys), we were put on an Army bus and taken around Clark Base and in a few of the places we had to get out and go into a room for an in briefing.  This is the base hospital. . the is the base Library. . .this is the base movie theater. .  When we arrived at the base fire house, we were put into a classroom and explained the basic ways to extinguish fires. The main fire engine was left over from WWII.  We were told that even though it was old, it still got the job done.  Not only was it for fires on base, but they had a partnership with the fire company off base in Angeles City.  The truck would go through the main gate and go the aid of the local fire department.  We were told that a brand new fire engine was on its way to Clark from stateside, (Land of the Big Base Exchange, as it was called.)  The fire chief was an American and the fire fighters were foreign nationals.

After about six months in country, the new, bright red fire engine arrived from stateside.  It had only been in country for only 4 days when it was put to the test.  There was a big fire off base and it left to help.  It was never seen again, in one piece, that is.  After it did not come back to base after the fire was out, the Air Police went to the fire house to investigate.  This is the rest of the story as Paul Harvey would say.

At about 1000 hours local time, a big two house fire was reported off base.  Unknown to everyone, ten local thieves with falsified documentation came on base and went to the fire house.  Once there, they pulled guns and tied up everyone there.  they then put on the clothes of the firemen, and when the alarm was sounded, jumped into the new truck, put on the flashing lights and siren and proceeded to the Main Gate.  Unknown to the APs at the gate, they, in all innocence waved the truck through.  It was not taken to the fire, but to some unknown location and dismantled.  They used the bright red fenders and side panels for decorations on the local Jeepneys.  We would see a jeepney  with bright red and say, "There goes part of the new fire engine."

I'm ALIVE!!!!! My. . .name. . . is. . .Dan

I want to tell you all that I have agonized over how I wanted to present this story that happened to me while I was stationed at Clark Air Base in the Philippines.  Only a few of my very close family and friends know of this story.  This does not include the Army shrinks who I saw soon after this happened.  This is the first time that I have written about it.

Let me start off by telling you that I met Dan in early 1966.  But before I tell you all about Dan and myself, let me set up the background for how I met him.. . . .

As I said earlier when I filled out my 'dream sheet' before leaving AIT at Fort Devens, I had put down for my three choices 1) Vietnam, 2) Vietnam and 3) Vietnam.  That is why I ended up in the Philippines.  I must give the U.S. Government and the U.S. Army credit, they put me in the same operation theater, South-East Asia.

After serving in the Philippines for a while, I got to the point where I put in for an inter-theater transfer to Vietnam.  It was turned down on three consecutive occasions.  So, what could I do to be more involved with the war going on in Vietnam?  I was visiting the wounded vets returning to the hospital at Clark for medical treatments.  This, I felt, was still not enough.  So as I was visiting the cafeteria at Base Ops one day, looking out on the flight line, it became clear to me what I had to do. I got straight up from my coffee and went into Base Ops and volunteered for Midi Vac duty.  What we would do would be to supervise and help unload planes bringing back the war wounded.  After about two days I learned about medivacs coming out of Vietnam.

In time of war, you don't know how much of a target is presented to the enemy (Charlie) by painting a big Red Cross on a plane.  It's like saying, "You can't shoot  at me because I have a Red Cross on this plane".  It just makes an aiming point for Charlie.  Most of the time, we would get the planes in from Tan Son Nhut Air Base or Da Nang Air Base.  You could look at the planes coming in and tell if it had taken off from a "Hot LZ" (Landing Zone).  Hot, meaning that the plane was taking incoming mortar or small arms fire as it was taking off.  If the plane had peaces missing or bullet holes in in, it was considered a "Hot" This basis made the inside of the cargo hold of the plane completely different.

When a plane is normally bringing back wounded, without a 'hot LZ", the first to be loaded into the plane is the dead.  Those in body bags.  They would be stacked toward the front of the plane in a neat and orderly fashion. Next in would go the stretcher cases, those on stretchers, the last on would be the ambulatory or walking wounded.  A "Hot" plane, the body bags were put on in a hurry, scattered about because of the need to get off the ground and out of range of mortars and gunfire as quick as possible.  The stretchers and the ambulatory would be all mixed up.

A typical unloading would be that the arriving plane would lower the ramp, the ambulatory would walk of with any assistance they would need, be taken to the doctors, nurses and medics set up on the flight line to care for them.  The ones who did not need immediate care were helped into ambulances and sent to the hospital.  Then we would walk up the ramp and take the stretcher cases and bring them out to the medical line set up there.  Then we would pair up, and remove the body bags.  They were placed in ambulances and taken to the morgue at the base hospital for identification.

The day that I met Dan, the plane had come in from Da Nang and it had been 'hot' at take off.  When the ramp came down, everything inside had been thoroughly mixed up.  We had to go up and help all of the ambulatory and stretchers get separated.  After that part was done, then came the nightmare.  The body bags were scattered all over the place.  Some of the bags were not even zipped up.  There were extra arms and legs laying around.  We would place the arms or legs on the closest body bag to it.

Like I said, we did this in twos, one for the foot of the bag, the other to the head.  We had gone down about three or four layers and came to this one bag.  I was at the head, the bag was not closed, and an arm was hanging out of the bag.  As I was reaching to place the hand and arm back into the bag and close it, my friend who was at the foot, said something to me.  I didn't understand what he said, so I stopped, looked up at him and asked him what he had said.  As I was looking up from the body bag, to my friend, this hand latched onto my wrist with a vice like grip.  I was in complete shock.  I thought I was going completely nuts. Talking about a nightmare in the daytime.  No words describe the filling I was going through.  My first instinct was to open the bag and get the arm back inside.  When I opened the bag completely off the head, there was blood everywhere, but the eyes were looking directly at me.  His lips were moving but I could not believe what my eyes and ears were telling me.  I leaned over and I could barely make out what he was saying, "I;m alive. . . my . . .name . . is . . Dan . . ." Then he passed out.  I started screaming, "Medic. Medic, Medic. . .we have a live one here. . .please help him....

I had to go with him and the doctors because they could not get his grip on my wrist off until they had given him some muscle relaxant.  Even with that, they had to pry the fingers loose.  Needless to say, I was in complete shock.  I was a nervous wreck, just waiting for a place to come down.

Two days later I went to the base hospital and see what had happened to Dan.  I was told by the nurse that they did not have a Dan there with the wounded, but they had three 'John Does" that  were there and no one knew their names.  She took me to them, after the first two, I was ready to quit, but when I saw the last one, I told the nurse, "This is Dan" but, I don't know what his last name was or which branch of the service he was in.  Dan was still in a coma, but I still went to see him every day.  About a week later, they listed him as Daniel Jackson, USMC.  After another week of visiting Dan everyday, I went in one afternoon and his bed was empty.  I ask the nurse about it and she said he still had not come out of the coma, but the doctors had decided that he would get better treatment at Walter Reed Hospital, so they hod placed him on a plane with a couple of doctors and nurses and sent him to Andrews in Washington, DC.  I never did find out about what ever happened to Dan,

To this very day, and everyday without fail, I think about Dan.

Well my friends, it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life. . . .

Til next posting....God speed!

Typhoon, earthquake, typhoon again.

Some of you may not know that Clark Air Base in the Philippines sets out in the planes of Pampanga Province on the main island of Luzon.  It is surrounded on three sides by mountain ranges and by Manila Bay to the south.  About 60 miles to the west of Clark was Mount Pinatubo.  After I had been at Clark for about six months, we were given a typhoon warning.  It was coming up north from Manila Bay.  It came north and ran right over the top of Clark.  After it left, we were down at our work site, in our trick bay, we decided to take a break and go outside of the building.  Our work building had a long two foot deep trench in the concrete floor for all the electrical cables to run.  This trench was covered by metal plates, two feet wide by three feet long.  The trench ran the whole length of the building.  Before we could get to the door to the outside, we heard a rumbling.  We looked down to the other end of the building and we watched the metal covers shaking and rattling, moving down the hall toward us.  The whole building started shaking.  It was an earthquake.  Well, as I said before, Mount Pinatubo was close to Clark so we were getting moved around by the earth shaking.  After our break, we went back to work.  The typhoon that had just hit us got caught by the mountain rage to the east, turned north, got caught there and turned west. When it hit the mountains to the west, it turned back south, so we got hit by the same typhoon twice.  We had put in 16 hours of work that day.

Our work building was a big, long building with a government fence around it.  It was actually a double fence, and both of them had barbed wire at the top.  We had a small building at the back that housed our incinerator.  We would get picked to be on burn detail every once in a while.  We would have to go around the building and collect all the bags that needed to be burned.  The incinerator had a stack about 50 feet into the air and it had a small, fine screen at the top to keep paper from flying away.  After burning, the ashes had to be removed and watered down.

This double fence that ran around the whole compound was also a dog run.  The MPs (Military Police) K-9 unit would bring two to three dogs and turn them loose inside the two fences.  The dogs seemed friendly, but we were warned to not mess with them.

We had to show our ID cards and the card that we had to wear around our necks before we could gain entrance through the gate and again to get into the door, past the guard.  After coming through the gate, we had to walk down a sidewalk to our left.  After walking the width of the building, the side walk turned to the right.  Between the sidewalk and the inside fence, was a little fish pond with a fountain to make the water flow.  This was called the Duck Pond, but I never did see a duck.  This was also a promotion pond.  When you were promoted, you took a dip in the duck pond.  Your so called friends made sure of that.  Well, I was promoted to Specialist 4th class, SP/4.  I just knew that that evening I was going into the drink.  As we turned the corner heading for the front door, my friends grabbed me.  They started swinging me back and forth by my arms and legs and was just about to let go when one of them noticed a cobra in the water.  Needless to say, they did not throw me in, but when they took the SP/4 pins that fit on the collar of the fatigues,  they pulled off the backing of the pins and hit it so the back of the pins went through the collar, and into the skin underneath.  Needless to say, my collar area was black and blue for a week afterwards.

Well, it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life........Til next time. . .

God speed my friends. . . .

You get my back . . I've got yours!

As I stated in my last blog, most of the work we were doing at our compound at the 9th US ASA FS (9th United States Army Security Agency Field Station) was classified, so one of the stories I am going to relate to you is of a fighting nature.

One of the first friends that I made when I got to Clark was with a guy who got there the same day that I did.  His name was Rob Henderson, who was from Detroit, Michigan.  Rob had attended Wayne State University and was a serious believer in the weight room at the gym.  Rob was not only smart, but he had muscles on top of his muscles.

Rob and I had been down in the Vil out visiting some antique shops trying to find bargains.  It had started getting late and he and I had not had anything to eat for supper, so we went to a restaurant that had some real good fried rice and nice cold San Miguel Beer.  After we had finished eating, paying our bill, we went up three steps outside to get to street level.  We were standing at the side of MacArthur Highway, looking for a way back to the Main Gate of Clark.

Let me take this time to explain and describe the different types of transportation available to GIs in the mid-60s.  First is taxi cabs.  Few and far between at this time of the evening. Expensive.  Then you have Jeepneys.  These are Willis Jeeps of WWII and Korean War fame.  They take and strip off the old Jeep frame and put in brightly colored finders, sides, and a lot of chrome.  These are less expensive than taxis.  Next are bicycles, these are motor bikes with a small mini cab mounted on. Can hold two or three people and is less expensive that Jeepneys.  Last in line is a Kalesas.  These are horse drawn carriages that will seat two or three people.  This is the cheapest from of transportation.

Back at street side, Rob and I was waiting when two kalesas stopped.  Rob said lets race back to the Main Gate.  The looser pays for the kalesas.  The bet was on . we lined up in the street. . the drivers knew we were going to race back.  I told my drive if he beat the other one to the gate I would give him a bonus.  When we got to the gate, Rob had lost.  I gave my drive the fee plus the bonus promised.  Rob was busy paying his driver.  Rob was steaming under the collar at loosing the race.  As he was standing in front of the loosing horse, he drew back his fist and punched the horse right between the eyes.  Dropped Down Dead on its knees.  By this time we were surrounded by all kinds of Filipinos.  They were looking around, picking up stones, bricks, sticks anything they could get their hands on.  I backed up to Rob and told him I got your back. . you git mine.  We had to fight our way to the Main Gate which was a couple of blocks away.  When we got close enough, the Air Police on duty at the gate came out and grabbed us and pulled us through to safety.

The next morning after briefing the First Sergeant about the little scrape we had been he, he said that he had already heard through the houseboy grapevine that rob and I were not to welcomed back in the Vil.  He advised us not to venture past the main gate until further notice.

Well, it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life. . . .Til next time. . .

God speed my friends.

Duty in the Philippine Islands

On Monday morning bright and early all the Nugs (new guys) showed up at the Orderly Room as ordered.  The first Sergeant then proceed to read us the riot act.  Clark Air Base was the largest military instillation in the world at that time.  Being we were the only Army company on the air base, we were a 'band of brothers'.  If one got into a fight, we all were in a fight til it was finished.  He said he did not want some one to come in with a black eye and say they lost a fight to an airman.  He told us if we were ever in the village off base, (Angeles City) later to be shortened to 'the vil', and we heard someone holler out 'Army', that meant someone was in trouble and all Army personnel must rush to the rescue.

Let me explain about our barracks building there at Clark.  It was a cinder block building with no walls.  The outside walls were wooden louvers that were adjustable by the people on the inside.  On the outside of the louvers was fly screen to keep out the bugs and insects.  The interior walls were fixed wooden louvers.  So the wind could blow right through the building.  Our building had a flat, one story structure off to the right of the building which housed our mess hall.  The motor pool was in a Quonset hut to the rear of the building.  Right across the street from our building was the dependent swimming pool.  Three building down the street from us was the Coconut Grove Airman's Club.  Out Orderly Room was on the bottom floor of the building and on the second floor were two large areas set aside, one for the Day Room, for anyone who wanted to watch the local American TV station, AFRTS, ant the other room was for the Bar.  The Bar had its own TV and also a bartender on duty from 0800 hours until 0100 hours daily.

One of the big culture shocks to get over was there was no KP (Kitchen Police) in the Philippines.  We had foreign nationals who were paid to do KP, Cook and wait on tables.  It was like going into a Cafe to just walk in, set down at a table, wait for the waitress to come over and place in your order for whatever was on the menu for that meal.  We also had paid houseboys who took care of our dirty laundry, shining our boots and shoes.  I said this was all paid and it was.  Each payday, we would get in line, report to the pay officer and get our pay.  After receiving this pay, we moved on down the line and each paid for the KP fund, Houseboy fund, Day Room Funds.  All the funds took the fun out of getting paid. But it was worth it in the long run not to have to worry about all the extra details.

Most of the work that we done in Morse Code and Non-Morse Intercept was classified and is still classified so all I can tell you is just some stories of what happened during our off duty time around Clark, so that is what I will do next time.  I am going to try to put a picture of our building on this.  So til next time,  it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life. . .

Til then, God speed. . .

   

First duty assignment . . .Philippines

I have had some time to think about my last post and I need to make a correction.  It has to do with dates.  I finished up my AIT at Fort Devens around the second week in December 1964.  I remember taking two weeks of leave during Christmas, my birthday and the New Year.  So right after the first of the new year, 1965, I found myself starting my way to the Philippine Islands.

This also started something new for me personally.  It came as a rude awakening to me to find my mom and dad taking me to the greater Cincinnati Airport, which by the way, is located across the Ohio River in Kentucky.  I had been told by the Army that I would have to fly into San Francisco International Airport, take a military bus to Travis Air Force Base, and then fly by a plane leased by the government to take GIs overseas.

For a boy, fresh off the farm, flying was something new to me.  I had never been in an airplane before.  But, I was to learn later that this was just the start.  I remember how nervous I was as the plane was taking off and landing.  I had no problems with the flying part.  It was one cup of coffee after another until I got the hang of it.

Once on the ground at San Francisco International, I had to board a military bus to go to Travis Air Force Base.  From the terminal to the bus, there was a bunch of young people lined up and they were flashing the 'peace' sign, and offering us flowers as we got to the bus.  Little did I know what would happen on the reverse trip a little over three years later.  I was spit on, called 'Baby killer' and a few other names that I will not put down on paper.  It still upsets me after all these years to think about this. The reception that we were shown upon arriving back in the states.  But when I think about it, I think the main cause for this was the incident that happened shortly before my return in 1968.  I am talking about the My Lai Massacre in Vietnam.

Most of the readers of this will not recognize this and a lot of older readers may have forgotten about it.  So, I will give a little capsule about it.  On March 16, 1968, in the little village of My Lai, Vietnam, between 347 and 504 old men, women, and kids were rounded up by the U.S. Army and many of women were raped, and all were shot and killed.  While 26 men of Charlie Company, 1st of the 20th Inf. Reg. were charged with criminal actions, only one, Lt. William Calley, was brought to trial.  He was found guilty of 22 murders, was given the life sentence, but only served three and a half years under house arrest.

Well, I found myself on an airplane, leased to the government, on my way at last to Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines.  I learned once in the air that our 14 hour flight was take longer than that because we would be stopping at Guam to refuel.

We finally landed at Clark.  The only Army unit on the air base sent a bus to pick us up and deliver us to our barracks.  Now, I don't think I mentioned this before, but back then when you traveled, they put on your orders the uniform you are to travel and report in.  When I left Travis it was cold, so the OG (Olive Green) uniform and big bulky overcoat was nice and warm.  When I arrived at Clark, is was in the 90's and the humidity was off the charts.  The First Sergeant just looked at us, all wilted down, laughed, and told us that the orderly room clerk would show us to our rooms, the house boys would get our bedding and fix the bed while we were getting out of the hot clothes and taking our showers.  I remember this was on a Thursday morning and the First Sergeant said for us to get acclimated and he did not want to see us until Monday morning in the Orderly Room.

My Philippine adventure will continue in the next blog.  Til the next time . . . it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life....

God speed my friends.

AIT at Fort Devens, MA.

AIT At Fort Devens, Massachusetts

On my last Blog I had finished up Basic Training at Fort Lost-In-The-Woods, Missouri, and was taking a delay in route to my AIT training. I really enjoyed by time off with my family in southern Indiana.  So, after my delay in route was up, mom and dad took me to the bus station in Columbus, Indiana, where I bought a ticket to Ft. Devens, Ma.  So I will pick up my story from there. . . .

So here it was, the first of the new year, 1965, I find my self thinking back over my basic training, my family and friends back home, and I am wondering what the world holds in store for someone who has basically no been off the farm.  The bus had a basic route of Highway 50.  This took me through Ohio, West Virginia, Washington, DC, Maryland, Philadelphia, New York City, Connecticut, Rhode Island and then into Boston.  From Boston I changed to a local bus and went to Ayer, and then finally into Fort Devens. The bus ride was not that bad, I met a guy from Effingham, Illinois, was was also going to Fort Devens, and we played a lot of cards.  This guys name was Harvey Wright and we became good friends throughout school, even though he was in a different company.

Let me tell you a little about Fort Devens.  Fort Devens was located close to Boston and it was known as the 'ditty bop' school for the military.  "Ditty-Bop", meaning Morse Code.  

We  taken to Company C.The "C" stood for Casual, as we were to find out! Company C was Headquartered in a three-story cinder-block building that was, by the way, still there as of late 1991. Its paint-scheme went from buff in 1966 to maroon sometime before 1991. The rest of Company C was in wooden barracks nearby, to the North.

The building was in the shape of a "U". The northeast leg was the "casual-company," the other leg was for some kind of permanent-party company. The middle of the "U" housed the various administration offices and the mess-hall. Just inside the mess-hall door, as you waited in line to be served, the line went by this massive tray rack which was very convenient to lean on. It was not sturdy! First thing off I can remember one the cooks yelling at the line of NUGS (new-guys): "Quack, quack, get off the tray rack!" The mess-hall as decorated in a New England fishing motif, and had a ship's-bow carving of a woman, or a mermaid, or whatever. In each corner hung fishing nets with glass-ball floats and fake Star fish, etc., in them.

At our very first formation early the next morning, we found out straight-up that our stay at Charlie Company could last a few days or even weeks, depending on when our class "start date" was scheduled for our various AIT (Advanced Individual Training). That really sucked, especially when I witnessed a roster being called off for "permanent KP!" Before dismissal, the formation NCOIC yelled out: "all the sick, lame, lazy, and crazy, fall-out to the right of the formation for Sick-Call!" I realized this was a potential scam to consider.

I lucked out and got in a group that was assigned paint-detail with some supply sergeant. Off we went to another part of the post in a topless 2 1/2-Ton truck called a "Deuce." I was surprised to see this relic had an automatic transmission! The supply NCO was pretty cool, but he had us paint a shed in the cold temperature. I knew that paint would never dry correctly. Oh well, the mentality of the Army!

A great place to hide was in the Main PX, just east across the parking lot from Charlie Company. I liked the snack bar I also used to play the juke-box, listening to Mack The Knife by Bobby Darin. Sidelight: I remember the guys had to have a belt, shirt tucked in, and no sandals. Seems like the guys all wore blue jeans, white socks, and penny-loafers! The PX was a great place in 1965. 

I would go to the Post Library at night For entertainment and listen to recordings of If I Had a Hammer, Lemon Tree, and I Want To Be In America by Trini Lopez. Diana Ross and The Supremes hit was You Keep Me Hanging On. Bob Dylan and Donavon had some early hits on the radio as well. I also discovered a well-run USO in Ayer. The women who ran it did a great job and made us feel as much at home as possible! 

On one of the evenings, a bunch of us decided to go and see Dr. Zhivago, with Omar Sharif and Julie Christie. I think this movie had been out for a while, but the Army just caught up with it. The Fort Devens Main Theater was located in a nice, depression-era brick building, located on a corner of the Revere Hall complex and next to the PMO (Post Provost Marshall Office). The movie was great and cost 50-cents. Usually movies were only 35-cents, but the biggies were higher.

I went into Boston quite a number of times - seems always by myself. Nobody else wanted to spend any money. You could get on a bus or take the train in. This was my "escape" from the reality of the Army. I used to envy the Navy Officers - in their nice blue and gold uniforms.  Boston is full of history and I really loved walking the Freedom Trail many times. The Boston Commons was gorgeous and at night was truly breath-taking!

I only stayed at Charlie Company around a month when I got word that my basic Morse-code class would start. We received a description paper, consisting of three parts - page one, and page two, and a third page. " We also got a Student Guide that was ten-pages long. It was late January and those of us slated to become "ditty-boppers" moved from on top of "The HILL" to the bottom - to "Ditty City" - a group of, you guessed it, left-over WWII barracks! My barrack was just like the one I had left in basic, only this one had a coal-burning furnace that some guy on casual-status was detailed to keep stoked all night. It was building T-1518. The "T" stood for temporary.

In the mornings it was not unusual to wake up with coal soot in our noses and listening to Snoopy and the Red Baron by a group I can't remember now, and Young Girl by Gary Pucket and The Union Gap. Yeah, the radio would say: "The Boss Sound in Boz-town, WBZ." Back to soot. That soot was all over and posed a real a problem to clean - for the Commanders daily inspections! By the way, I was on the second floor again.

Our company area was around a third of a mile from another set of WWII buildings, called "Ditty-City". These were numerous barracks that where converted into classrooms, if that are what you called them. Monday through Friday, we marched as a company to and from our barracks to this school - on an asphalt roadway that dog-legged to the right. First we passed an old wooden consolidated mess-hall on the left, called "Con-4." Then we went on passed a little PX-Annex that served 3/2 beer and Pizza, then straight on into the "Ditty-City" complex. Oh, in the middle and to the right of this roadway and across from Con-4, was a fenced-off compound called "P-BRANCH," where the Army held the 98J (Radar-Jammers) AIT.

We had to march to class to the beat of a Base and Snare Drum, which two classmates volunteered to play. Each time the left foot hit the ground, the base drum went Boom, boom, boom-boom-boom and then the accompanying rata-tat-tat of the snare drum. When the weather really got cold, we had to wear those ugly O.D.-green all-weather greatcoats and buckle-up rubber boots. We also had to wear the cold-weather flap-cap as well, called the "pile-cap," with our ASA unit crest pinned such as to hold the visor-part up. You know, the hat that looked like it had hound-dog ears!

Snow it did in this part of the country! Pulling snow-removal detail was not uncommon, getting up at 0330 to clear the sidewalks and passageways. Since we lived in the old wooden barracks, called by some"Splinter Village," we had to pull firewatch as well. When our name came up on the duty-roster (DA form 6), this detail was pulled in four-hour increments. I heard the barracks could burn-down within five-minutes! I never saw that happen thank GOD.

Like I said above, "Ditty City" was comprised of converted wooden barracks that served as classrooms. They were filled with four-rows of side-by-side positions, each comprising of "mills" and headsets - per floor. One row of them on the left wall, one row on the right wall, and two rows in the middle - facing each other. "Mills" were old manual typewriters that only printed in CAPS (capital letters.) Each had two-ply continuous paper that fed through a slot in the back of the gray aluminum table and up into the back of the typewriter. Some guys never typed before until they learned Morse-code!

About learning Morse-code. The course was divided up into eight-weeks. The first week you learned the 26-letter code and had to pass the first speed of 4.5 WGPM (Word Groups Per Minute). Then you had to pass another speed (6, 8, 10,12,15) in each of the remaining seven weeks - to reach 15 GPM, the magic speed to get diverted into the technical phases of the MOS's (Military Occupational Specialty) 05K, 05D, or 05H. These MOS names just received their new names, vs. their old ones of 059, 056, and 058 respectively. 

05K was officially called"Non-Morse Teletype Intercept Operator," 05H was "Morse code Intercept Operator," (called "Hogs") and 05Ds were the "duffies," or "Emitter Locator - Direction Finding (DF) Operators." The last two were biggies for the " 'Nam." Once diverted into our MOSs, we could leave "Splinter Village" and go to Revere Hall (also known as the "Bird Cage," "School House," or whatever). The 05Ds went to a complex called "SITBRANCH," just south and about 3/4 mile from the "School-House" complex.

To learn the code, the instructor stood at the front of the room and had you yell out each letter and its ditty-equivalent at the top of your lungs! You couldn't yell loud enough! This went on for three days, learning eight letters per day. By the end of the last two days, Thursday and Friday, you had to pass the first code speed of 4.5 GPM (Word Groups per Minute). If you didn't, you went to the "Pit," at nights and on Saturdays, a special barracks set up for "code-deficient" troopers!

While in the "Pit," you did "remedial code" starting nightly after the regular day of copying code with your class. You had a ten-minute break every hour. During that break you stood silently at the "Parade-Rest" position until told to sit down again and resume copying code. If you had to go to the latrine, no talking, return quickly, and return to "Parade-Rest." Expect harsh treatment from the instructor at all times. Believe me, a few nights of this and you pulled your head out real quick and made sure you were not "code deficient" again! To stay that way, some of us practiced by ourselves on weekends listening to Morse-tapes bought from the local Radio Shack in Ayer. The Army didn't have MOS libraries in those days. The Fort Devens Main Library had the tape-players in a special room. 

However, I had to go to the "Pit" twice. Once at the end of the first week, at 4.5 WGPM, as I said before. Then again getting past 12'rs (12 GPM) three weeks later. During this whole ordeal, we heard the standard rumors that occasionally a guy would go berserk and throw his "mill" out the window, or try to commit suicide. I never witnessed either!

By week eight, which was now late February, 1967, I finally passed 15 GPM. Last thing was to learn Q & Z signals which was pretty easy. Anyway, I lucked out and got diverted to 05K school for my tech-phase. I was hoping that I would. I heard it was the easier MOS of the other two, code-wise. Plus, almost always - no Vietnam and the extension-course that came prior to it. This extension-course was better known as "TTC," or "Tactical Training Course." Here, the Army had a fake Vietnamese village set up and the Special Forces troops (10th Group) that ran it didn't like prisoners!

Once I got into the technical-phase of 05K, my life got a whole lot easier and enjoyable. We got to move from the wooden barracks and "F" Company, and back up "The HILL" to the same building that formerly housed Charlie Company. Only it was now called Company H. "Hotel" Company was night-school, marching to class just as the flag came down - and stayed until around 2330 hours or so. We were marched by a Special Forces E-6 who was pretty cool! Our classroom was in the old private girls school - The "School House," or the - Yeah right - "Bird Cage," or even some called it by its official name -Revere Hall. Didn't we discuss this earlier? Anyway, we learned all about the receivers, demods, teletypes, and the patch-cording that went with them. The instructors talked about a new "pos" that I would see later.

 Revere Hall was a grand old building that was real long and about four stories high. The huge parade-ground in front of it was the site of many events, including, of course, parades. Revere Hall had many entrances - once inside the guarded compound. Our class entrance was on the far northeast corner, next to the post-stockade. Occasionally an inmate would yell down to us calling us "lifers" or "pukes." We yelled back up: "it was better than pulling 'bad time!'" This stockade-time didn't come off your enlistment ETS (Estimated Termination of Service) either. It only extended it!

On one occasion, I remember taking a break outside the mess-hall side door. The music on the stereo system played "Up, Up, and Away, in My Beautiful Balloon," and "Stone Soul Picnic " by the popular group at the time, Fifth Dimension. I basked my face in the bright, warm sun. There was a wonderful, light, spring breeze blowing as well. More songs played. Spanky And Our Gang's "Lazy Day" and "Sunday will Never Be The Same." I loved to hear the hit by the Australian group - The Seekers - with the powerful voice of Judith Durham singing "Georgy Girl." I can't remember if the Movie - "Georgy Girl" - was made from the idea of this song or if they just sang it as the title song. Sidelight: I saw Judith Durham recently on a PBS Special with her group. She had just celebrated her 60th birthday and boy does she look nice, and sings fantastically!

About two or three weeks before we were scheduled to graduate, we had to fill out our  'Dream Sheet.'  We were told we could put down three choices of where we wanted to go after we graduated.  So, I put down as first choice, Vietnam, second choice, Vietnam and third choice, Vietnam.  I figured I would get 'Vietnam'.  A few days before graduation, we had a muster formation in Revere Hall.  They were going to give out our assignments.  The DI said if we had any questions about our assignments, wait until all had received their assignments.  Of course, it as by alphabet.  As you know, West, begins at the back of everything.  They call out my name.  Surprise,  surprise, surprise!  I was being sent to 9th United States Army Security Field Station.  Where in the world was that?  It could have been in Vietnam for all I knew.  So I waited my turn.  Where is 9th USASAFS?  I was told that it was on Clark Air Base.  So, I waited around again for the questions.  Where is Clark Air Base?  Somebody had made a big mistake.  I was in the U.S. Army, not the U.S. Air Force.  They told me that Clark Air Base was in the Philippine Islands and they were in current support to Vietnam.  The Philippine Islands . . . sandy beaches...palm trees...a tropical paradise!

Well, its a new dawn, its a new day and its a new life.  Til we meet again, my friends.

God speed.