Whenever I encounter groups of Vietnam vets it seems many have stories of derring do and bravery.
At times I feel I was the only fellow to have a thirteen month tour WITHOUT experiencing great adventures in combat and espionage. During my time in the military and Vietnam I was one of those lucky guys in the rear with the beer and gear. My Vietnam experience was tame and evidently rare. However, I suspect my war experiences were more the norm for a Vietnam service member than that of the combat boys. At the time some said it took 8 or 9 support troops to maintain every combatant. I was one of the eight or nine and it's high time our underwhelming stories be told.
Rather then suffer the uncertainty of the draft I joined the US Army in early 1966. At nineteen I never questioned the reasons for a war in Southeast Asia. I could hear my nation calling and felt obliged. My my father was a decorated veteran of WWII and I never doubted my responsibility to family and country. In reality very few in our generation initially protested this undeclared war. War protestors were another minority that captured most media attention.
Being afraid of bodily harm I felt joining would give me a choice other then combat. It meant a three year commitment so I sought an army job far from the front lines. Based on testing I demonstrated good scores in clerical and verbal skills. Therefore, I was assigned to a school which would mold me into a personnel clerk. Later in attempting to glamorize our jobs we called ourselves "Remington Raiders". For those unaware "Remington" at the time was a major manufacturer of manuel typewriters. After several months of intensive training I could bang out 8 or ten words per minute. .
After basic training and typewriting school it was on to Fort Benning Georgia. Fort Benning was and is a famous military post for it's infantry and airborne schools. Here, nearly 300 of us were brought together to form the 516th Personnel Service Company. We were a band of clerk brothers gathered from all over the nation. For many of us the diversity and cultural differences we shared strengthened our realization and appreciation of America being a great melting pot. We all knew we were staging for a tour in Vietnam because everyone soon realized that jungle boots and lightweight uniforms wasn't standard for those shipping out to Germany.
In a few days to our surprise our company commander was introduced with great fanfare. He was a brick of a middle aged man probably 6'5" and a solid muscled giant of at least 250 pounds. His standard facial expression was a scowl. The color of his face and unusually flat forehead was red. His short crewcut styled hair bristled in a color somewhere between blond and yellow. His name was Captain Tucker.
Soon the stories and rumors of Captain Tucker became common knowledge. It was said he was a highly decorated veteran of Korea. His flat forehead was formed by several metal plates necessitated by combat wounds. Further these plates, it was said, kept his head in one piece. Also, it was revealed he had been passed over twice for promotion to major and this assignment was his last chance. In a matter of days it became apparent that Captain Tucker was hell bent into forging the clerks of the 516th into the fiercest gang of office jockeys in the history of the army.
First, we began to have extra full pack marching exercises, extra firing range practices, and extra running exercises. This seemed more than we had endured in our basic training days. Hell, it seemed to be a training and conditioning mode on par with the airborne guys jumping off buildings and out of planes. Second, we spent less time improving our clerical skills. Third, and most disturbing we received orders that our unit would be participating in jungle warfare training at Camp Shelby Mississippi. While Fort Benning was one of the hottest spots in Georgia it couldn't match the addition of humidity that Camp Shelby offered. In the swamps of Mississippi we crawled in mud, trooped through swamps, ate canned rations, lost great blocks of sleep, and battled insects 24/7. The crawling and flying bugs of this country had no problem penetrating all protective netting and resisting every available insect spray. After two weeks of this misery we departed Mississippi leaving any remaining baby fat which had survived basic training. To a man we felt that Vietnam might be a better assignment then Southern Mississippi. Soon many began to wonder about Captain Tucker and his plan for his band of bookkeepers.
Shortly our official orders arrived. We were only allowed to know that our destination was the west coast. For many of us it was our first airplane trip. The bumps and twists of the giant airliner shook my nerves. Not finding my rosary, I used a black comb to count off the "Hail Marys" and "Our Fathers". I prayed my praying would keep our plane from falling out of the sky. Once safely landed we were trucked to a seaside location and marched aboard a very old gray ship. Some say it was a survivor from several wars past. For the next month I witnessed every color and consistency of vomit imaginable. Somehow, I never got sick despite the splattered food matter which was a constant impediment to walking any deck or stairwell. As our voyage moved to it's final days our destination was revealed. The anti climatic announcement that our destination was Vietnam surprised no one. The marines and army infantrymen aboard shouted their approval and spent hours joyfully chattering. Along with a few buddies I was scared to death.
When we could see the sand and green of Vietnam, Captain Tucker ordered the Company to don their combat gear and take up arms. Obviously, we were being equipped to assault the beaches however we were issued no ammunition. A bouncing rectangular shaped boat came up alongside our ship. We tumbled and were herded aboard the unstable landing craft. Still no issue of bullets, bayonets, or hand grenades. Once on board we were blind to the sea or coastline as the back, front, and sides of the craft towered a few feet higher then the tallest man. It seemed crazy that a bunch of clerks and typists would be the first to offload and charge the beaches. We had left the marines and army combat guys on the ship. Had Captain Tucker pulled a few strings to enhance his resume by transforming his office boys into warriors ? Was our landing designed as sacrifical unarmed targets for the enemy to spare the marines and army infantrymen ?
As the choking plumes of black diesel smoke swirled we began our blind movement away from the ship and towards land. My mind raced and I wondered if we encountered the enemy (VC-viet congs) what were we to do ? Use our rifle butts, slap at them with our mess kits, beat them with our heavy helmets ? During our shaking ride to the shore the Captain was shouting words of bravado. The NCO's and junior officers were rousing us with more vocal encouragements. It all seemed confusing and I realized I would be immediately killed especially since our rifles were unloaded and unsheathed of bayonets. Then our landing boat slid onto the sand and Captain Tucker bellowed that we run forward and maintain our orderly formation. I felt my only hope from destruction would be my poor buddies flanked to my side, front, and rear. Surely they would get it before me, but this awful thought brought little comfort. Then the heavy front of the landing craft flopped down and at the head of his 516th Personnel Service Company Captain Tucker hollered, "follow me men". He charged off the boat and we all blindly followed. At that moment I was petrified and feared awful bodily injury or death was imminent.
Running like hell and expecting all matter of mayhem we charged forward. Soon a few quick glances to the left and right revealed a village full of Vietnamese civilians, children and unarmed American soldiers. It was an astonishing scene of normalcy. People were eating, drinking, carrying on conversations, and moving in and out of shops. As we rushed headlong behind our Captain there were smiles, laughter, and hoots of derision greeting us. Was their merriment the exhibition of the new army guys charging full tilt through a peaceful seaside village in full battle gear ? Looking ahead we finally saw our objective. We were sprinting towards six or eight green grey army buses.
Once safely aboard the buses we headed out to our tented living area at Cam Ranh Bay. This was our first full day in Vietnam and lead by Captain Tucker things would get more interesting in the coming months.
At times I feel I was the only fellow to have a thirteen month tour WITHOUT experiencing great adventures in combat and espionage. During my time in the military and Vietnam I was one of those lucky guys in the rear with the beer and gear. My Vietnam experience was tame and evidently rare. However, I suspect my war experiences were more the norm for a Vietnam service member than that of the combat boys. At the time some said it took 8 or 9 support troops to maintain every combatant. I was one of the eight or nine and it's high time our underwhelming stories be told.
Rather then suffer the uncertainty of the draft I joined the US Army in early 1966. At nineteen I never questioned the reasons for a war in Southeast Asia. I could hear my nation calling and felt obliged. My my father was a decorated veteran of WWII and I never doubted my responsibility to family and country. In reality very few in our generation initially protested this undeclared war. War protestors were another minority that captured most media attention.
Being afraid of bodily harm I felt joining would give me a choice other then combat. It meant a three year commitment so I sought an army job far from the front lines. Based on testing I demonstrated good scores in clerical and verbal skills. Therefore, I was assigned to a school which would mold me into a personnel clerk. Later in attempting to glamorize our jobs we called ourselves "Remington Raiders". For those unaware "Remington" at the time was a major manufacturer of manuel typewriters. After several months of intensive training I could bang out 8 or ten words per minute. .
After basic training and typewriting school it was on to Fort Benning Georgia. Fort Benning was and is a famous military post for it's infantry and airborne schools. Here, nearly 300 of us were brought together to form the 516th Personnel Service Company. We were a band of clerk brothers gathered from all over the nation. For many of us the diversity and cultural differences we shared strengthened our realization and appreciation of America being a great melting pot. We all knew we were staging for a tour in Vietnam because everyone soon realized that jungle boots and lightweight uniforms wasn't standard for those shipping out to Germany.
In a few days to our surprise our company commander was introduced with great fanfare. He was a brick of a middle aged man probably 6'5" and a solid muscled giant of at least 250 pounds. His standard facial expression was a scowl. The color of his face and unusually flat forehead was red. His short crewcut styled hair bristled in a color somewhere between blond and yellow. His name was Captain Tucker.
Soon the stories and rumors of Captain Tucker became common knowledge. It was said he was a highly decorated veteran of Korea. His flat forehead was formed by several metal plates necessitated by combat wounds. Further these plates, it was said, kept his head in one piece. Also, it was revealed he had been passed over twice for promotion to major and this assignment was his last chance. In a matter of days it became apparent that Captain Tucker was hell bent into forging the clerks of the 516th into the fiercest gang of office jockeys in the history of the army.
First, we began to have extra full pack marching exercises, extra firing range practices, and extra running exercises. This seemed more than we had endured in our basic training days. Hell, it seemed to be a training and conditioning mode on par with the airborne guys jumping off buildings and out of planes. Second, we spent less time improving our clerical skills. Third, and most disturbing we received orders that our unit would be participating in jungle warfare training at Camp Shelby Mississippi. While Fort Benning was one of the hottest spots in Georgia it couldn't match the addition of humidity that Camp Shelby offered. In the swamps of Mississippi we crawled in mud, trooped through swamps, ate canned rations, lost great blocks of sleep, and battled insects 24/7. The crawling and flying bugs of this country had no problem penetrating all protective netting and resisting every available insect spray. After two weeks of this misery we departed Mississippi leaving any remaining baby fat which had survived basic training. To a man we felt that Vietnam might be a better assignment then Southern Mississippi. Soon many began to wonder about Captain Tucker and his plan for his band of bookkeepers.
Shortly our official orders arrived. We were only allowed to know that our destination was the west coast. For many of us it was our first airplane trip. The bumps and twists of the giant airliner shook my nerves. Not finding my rosary, I used a black comb to count off the "Hail Marys" and "Our Fathers". I prayed my praying would keep our plane from falling out of the sky. Once safely landed we were trucked to a seaside location and marched aboard a very old gray ship. Some say it was a survivor from several wars past. For the next month I witnessed every color and consistency of vomit imaginable. Somehow, I never got sick despite the splattered food matter which was a constant impediment to walking any deck or stairwell. As our voyage moved to it's final days our destination was revealed. The anti climatic announcement that our destination was Vietnam surprised no one. The marines and army infantrymen aboard shouted their approval and spent hours joyfully chattering. Along with a few buddies I was scared to death.
When we could see the sand and green of Vietnam, Captain Tucker ordered the Company to don their combat gear and take up arms. Obviously, we were being equipped to assault the beaches however we were issued no ammunition. A bouncing rectangular shaped boat came up alongside our ship. We tumbled and were herded aboard the unstable landing craft. Still no issue of bullets, bayonets, or hand grenades. Once on board we were blind to the sea or coastline as the back, front, and sides of the craft towered a few feet higher then the tallest man. It seemed crazy that a bunch of clerks and typists would be the first to offload and charge the beaches. We had left the marines and army combat guys on the ship. Had Captain Tucker pulled a few strings to enhance his resume by transforming his office boys into warriors ? Was our landing designed as sacrifical unarmed targets for the enemy to spare the marines and army infantrymen ?
As the choking plumes of black diesel smoke swirled we began our blind movement away from the ship and towards land. My mind raced and I wondered if we encountered the enemy (VC-viet congs) what were we to do ? Use our rifle butts, slap at them with our mess kits, beat them with our heavy helmets ? During our shaking ride to the shore the Captain was shouting words of bravado. The NCO's and junior officers were rousing us with more vocal encouragements. It all seemed confusing and I realized I would be immediately killed especially since our rifles were unloaded and unsheathed of bayonets. Then our landing boat slid onto the sand and Captain Tucker bellowed that we run forward and maintain our orderly formation. I felt my only hope from destruction would be my poor buddies flanked to my side, front, and rear. Surely they would get it before me, but this awful thought brought little comfort. Then the heavy front of the landing craft flopped down and at the head of his 516th Personnel Service Company Captain Tucker hollered, "follow me men". He charged off the boat and we all blindly followed. At that moment I was petrified and feared awful bodily injury or death was imminent.
Running like hell and expecting all matter of mayhem we charged forward. Soon a few quick glances to the left and right revealed a village full of Vietnamese civilians, children and unarmed American soldiers. It was an astonishing scene of normalcy. People were eating, drinking, carrying on conversations, and moving in and out of shops. As we rushed headlong behind our Captain there were smiles, laughter, and hoots of derision greeting us. Was their merriment the exhibition of the new army guys charging full tilt through a peaceful seaside village in full battle gear ? Looking ahead we finally saw our objective. We were sprinting towards six or eight green grey army buses.
Once safely aboard the buses we headed out to our tented living area at Cam Ranh Bay. This was our first full day in Vietnam and lead by Captain Tucker things would get more interesting in the coming months.
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