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.

Basic Training

In my senior book at Vernon High School one of the questions that was asked of all seniors was- What is in the immediate future for you?  My answer was, "I wanted to join the Army and see the world outside of Vernon, Indiana.

So, here I was, four days out of high school, in the United States Army, in a Greyhound Bus, headed for the Ozark Mountains of Missouri, for eight fun-filled weeks of basic training.  How did I know that they were fun-filled?  Because the recruiter told me they were fun-filled and that I would love it.  Although someone had warned me not to believe a word that the recruited told me because he was just out to fill his quota of warm bodies.

One of my friends on the bus had asked the driver where exactly were we going. He laughed and said, "Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri."  He then said that most people who had been there for a while called it "Fort Lost-In-The-Woods, Misery." This was my second clue that two and two was not adding up to four. Anyway, most of the day on the bus was taken up by playing Spades.  It became night and some of us tried getting some sleep.

Those who did sleep were awaken by the bus stopping at about 0330 hours.  We thought we were at a rest stop.  The driver opened the door to the bus and a short man with all of his hair shaved off, wearing a Drill Instructors hat and fatigues jumped in.  He in a very normal voice said, "I'm your new mommie, daddie, wife, girlfriend, and I want to welcome you to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri."  To this he added in a very loud voice, "Now, get of the bus and get into four equal lines."  By this time everyone was making a mad dash for the door.  We lined up then he told us we took to long to do this so everyone get back to their seats on the bus..After everyone was seated, lets try this again. EVERYBODY, GET OFF THE BUS! After about three time of this we were able to satisfy him. By this time the chow hall was open so we were sent to breakfast. So begins my first week in basic training. (These words of the Drill Sargent was cleaned up a bit because I want to keep this family material.)

To start off week one they gave us twenty dollars for odds and ends that we would need, shaving cream, tooth paste, etc..  We were assured that this 'flying twenty' as they called it, would be deducted from our first pay.  This was indoctrination.  One of the first places we were marched to was the barber shop.  A lot of the guys back then had long hair.  Inside the barber shop the barbers were asking the guys how they wanted their hair cut. We had three choices, short, short, or short. Most of us chose short.  The barbers were having a good laugh at our expense, as the hair piled up on the floor. I took maybe twenty or thirty seconds for a hair cut.

We were then marched over to the Quartermasters to be measured for and fitted for clothing, headgear and boots and shoes.  Drill & Ceremony training begins during week 1. This refers to correct procedures for marching, and body movements such as standing at attention, "facing" (right-face/left-face), "at ease", "to the rear" and others.  Classroom instructions are given in each of the seven "Army Core Values," which include loyalty, duty, respect, selfless service, honor, integrity, and personal courage (meant to spell out the mnemonic LDRSHIP, or "leadership"). There are also classes held on subjects that involve day-to-day personal life in the Army.

During week 2, I begin unarmed combat training, also known as hand-to-hand combat, Combatives, During this time I was also instructed in map reading, land navigation, and compass use. These skills are put to the test at the Compass Course, where we were divided into groups and had to navigate our way to a series of points throughout a wooded area.  First aid training, known as Combat Life Saver (CLS), is also given during this period. We were trained in evaluating and properly treating casualties, ranging from dressing a wound to application of a tourniquet and dehydration treatment.

Week three begin training with pugil sticks, methods for carrying an unconscious or immobile person, and physical problem solving, such as finding a way to carry equipment from point A to point B given specific obstacles and constraints.

We were sent to the "gas chamber" during this week, which is a large, sealed chamber where soldiers are subjected to CS gas while wearing their protective masks. The gas chamber is the culmination of a series of classroom instructions on gas mask use. We were forced to unmask just before exiting the chamber, so that we can briefly experience the effects of the gas. Drill sergeants will usually ask each recruit to recite information while they are unmasked, such as name, social security number, or the Pledge of Allegiance, so that we are forced to open our mouth/eyes and/or take a breath while demonstrating continued focus. Those that answer incorrectly were sent for another trip through the gas chamber.

Week 3 is also when I was introduced to the standard-issue weapon, the M14 Rifle, This does not yet involve the actual firing of the rifle. It does include Basic Rifle Marksmanship (BRM) fundamentals training (instruction in marksmanship techniques without firing the rifle), as well as maintenance tasks, including "field stripping" (quickly disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling) the rifle.

Week four is where we begin actually firing weapons. With the service rifle, the M14, we fired at various targets, which are progressively further downrange, making each successive target more difficult to hit, with additional pop-up targets at long range. Other weapons we became familiar with was the M1911 Colt .45 Caliber Pistol and also hand grenades.There is also an obstacle course which the soldiers are expected to negotiate within a certain time limit, known as the "confidence course", since the main objective is to build self-confidence. Additionally, there is continual, intense physical training, as well as drill and ceremony training.

Weeks 7 and 8 is the culmination and the most challenging of all the training phases. During this phase, there is a PT final. soldiers that fail are not allowed to go into the field with the rest of the platoon and are recycled. The Final PT Test consists of the Standard Army Annual PT Examination. A minimum of 150 points is required to pass US Army Basic Training. Those that pass will move on to "Bivouac" (camping) and FTX (Field Training Exercises), such as nighttime combat operations.  There is no access to the dining facility during these exercises, so meals are given in the form C-Rations. Drill sergeants will make much of this an adversarial process, working against the recruits in many of the night operations, trying to foil plans, etc. 

By the end of week seven, all of the soldiers who have passed and are going on and do not have to be recycled will know where they will be taking Advanced individual Training.  They had told me that my Military Occupation Specialty (MOS) would be 05H, which is Morse Intercept Operator and that my training would be for 12 weeks and it would be at Fort Devens, Mass.  My AIT training was scheduled to start in Jan. 1965, so I was given about a week and a half delay in route so I would spend Christmas with the family.

Well, basic training was sure an eye opener.  I marked the first time I had been away from home.  It's a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life.

God speed my friends, til the next time.

Induction!

As I said in my last blog, I graduated from Vernon High School on the 26th of May, 1964.  This was the last graduating class of the school, so everyone in lower grades moved over to Jennings County High School.  Three days after graduation, I found myself on a Greyhound Bus heading for Indianapolis, Indiana.  This was the induction station for Indiana.  I was told we would be there for two days and that the U.S. Government would have rooms for us at the YMCA, which was within walking distance of the induction center.  They also gave us meal tickets for our meals at a local cafe.  

Day one was spent taking physicals.  No need to do anything else if you were not physically fit to serve in the armed services.  We all had to strip down, line up and start the physical process.  We took eye tests, hearing tests, walking tests, the whole gambit of all known tests, were our feet the same size, were our legs the same size, etc.  We were shown to our rooms at the YMCA.  There was four of us to a room. Two bunk beds and a common bathroom used by everyone on that floor.  The other three guys wanted to sneak out and paint the town red, but I stayed around and watched some TV before turning in for the night.  

Day two started at 0700 hours.  Today we were told this is going to be testing day for the ones who passed the physical.  Those who did not pass were already on a bus and headed for home.  The battery of tests that we took that day tested us for our general knowledge and a whole bunch of other things, math, general knowledge, mechanical, etc.  We were sent back to the YMCA that evening and told to be back at the center at 0700 hours the next day.

Day three, the morning, early morning.  We were called out by name, given a packet, which contained our orders, and the results of our testing.  At about 0830 hours, we found ourselves on another Greyhound Bus headed for the Ozark Mountains in Missouri.  We would be taking our eight weeks of basic training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.  Basic training was a whole different story. . .Its a new dawn..its a new day...its a new life. Til next time,  God bless . . . 

For some of you who doesn't know me, I will start at the very beginning.  I was the second of four children born to Victor and Frances West. I was born on December 29, 1945.  Unlike most kids born in a hospital, I was born in a house at 415 Maple Avenue in Lexington, Kentucky.  When I was about a year old, the family up and moved to Eminence, Kentucky.  I don't remember much there except we had a well out back with an old pump handle for bring up the water.  I remember that me and my sister Ann used to go out back and stand on the concrete covering about three or four o'clock in the evening.  There was a train track just to the other side of the well, and when the train would pass, they would see us standing there and would blow their whistle.  We got a kick out of that.  When I was about four or five, the family pulled up stakes and moved to Jennings County, Indiana.  Dad bought a farm a few miles south of Butlerville, Indiana.

Let me explain a little about the farm and how we ended up there.  Dad, his brothers and sisters, his mom and dad had a big tobacco and truck farm in Sandersville, which is right outside of Lexington.  Dad and his brothers would pick fruits and vegetables and  put them on a truck and take them into Lexington to sell at a local Farmer's Market.  So, when dad had a chance to buy this 180 acre farm in southern Indiana, he jumped at the chance.  About 100 acres of this was tillable so we raised various crops, tobacco, corn, wheat, soy beans, tomatoes, strawberrys, raspberrys, plus we had about 1/2 acre for the garden plot. We also ended up with about 40 milk cows. It was a very busy time on the farm. In my spare time, I did homework from school, but no time for any outside activities.  When we did find some extra time in the evenings, my brother and I would be at one of two of the ponds we had on the farm fishing.  Sometimes if we had most of the day, we would go to our neighbors farm which had Graham Creek running through it close to out fence line.

Before I  graduated from Vernon High School in 1964, I could see the handwriting on the wall. All the big farmers were getting bigger and the smaller farmers betting smaller.  We fell into the smaller category.  So, I decided I was not going to be a farmer and took only one of few options open to me at that time. With Vietnam and the draft looming in the background, I raised my right hand and joined the United States Army. That story is for tomorrow.  It's a new dawn, it's a new day, its a new life. . . God speed til tomorrow.