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Army Story
4205raymond
Member Posts: 3,423 ✭✭✭✭
Back during the Cuban Missile Crisis at Ft. Jackson, SC I was in AIT and detailed to make a laundry run with a deuce and a half. After dropping off my load I happened to notice a Black(hope I am not being racist here) short female E6 with hands on hips screaming at the top of her lungs at a platoon of female recruits. I walked over to the chain link fence, poked my fingers and nose thru it and was all eyes and ears. She had to be the meanest nastiest Platoon Sgt. on the face of the earth. She started off by saying, "Lets get something straight right off the get go. There is one thousand miles of swinging ---- on this post and you are not getting nare inch of it. Do I make myself clear?" What followed had me in stitches with tears coming down my cheeks. I mean after all she was preparing them to go fight the Russians.
After the show was over I walked back to my deuce and a half and started her up and took off for the company area. After driving about a half mile something did not feel quite right about this truck. I pulled over and looked at the trip ticket on the clip board and thought My God this is not my truck. I was so taken with this Platoon Sgt. that I had completely lost it. I quick turned the truck around and back to the laundry I went. When I started to pull in, there was a Corporal standing in empty space next to my truck. He said "Thanks for bringing back my truck, I was about 30 seconds from calling the MP's private."
Any funny stories out there?
After the show was over I walked back to my deuce and a half and started her up and took off for the company area. After driving about a half mile something did not feel quite right about this truck. I pulled over and looked at the trip ticket on the clip board and thought My God this is not my truck. I was so taken with this Platoon Sgt. that I had completely lost it. I quick turned the truck around and back to the laundry I went. When I started to pull in, there was a Corporal standing in empty space next to my truck. He said "Thanks for bringing back my truck, I was about 30 seconds from calling the MP's private."
Any funny stories out there?
Comments
After 9/11 I was in an F18 squadron attached to a carrier battle group bombing Afghanistan.
Our C.O. was days from retirement and like all pilots sometimes they just don?t want to fly.
The C.O. calls me over- doesn?t want to take the Jet because he is saying a strut is low. I measure it- it is on the edge but within tolerance and say take the jet.
C.O. says ?I don?t want to go with that strut?.
I say: I?m calling you up and ready, you want to walk away, shut it down?
C.O. Takes the jet, which BTW was loaded with 2 JDAM, which he put on targets....2 JDAM is an ?unreturnable load? on an F18 so when loaded basically guaranteed to have good targets to hit before they leave the boat. The plane simply can?t return to the flight deck with that weight of ordinance on the wings...
Anyway he comes back probably 7-8hours later and fires me. I am no longer leading the ?shooters?. On the flight deck of a carrier this is basically the quarterback for the squadron...
He was actually so pissed I called him up & ready he fired my counter part who worked days and was asleep at the time I sent him.
3 days later- they fly him off the ship so he can retire. The new C.O?s first command was to give me and my counterpart our jobs back.
The guy who fired me, made me a living legend in the Navy and I went on to become sailor of the year.
Our mission was to keep another unit from crossing a creek. The tactic wasn't static defense it was to set up a hasty position, fire and then move back (shoot and scoot) then repeat. The last stand was on the opposite side of the creek from the enemies advance and to (simulate) blowing the bridges.
The unit working against us was driving M-113 armored personnel carriers (APC's) around 14 tons. We were driving M-60 main battle tanks 52 tons.
A platoon of the enemy APC's had made their way around our flank and was heading for a small bridge designed so agricultural equipment could cross the creek. I was the driver, the tank commander tells me whatever I do don't let them cross the bridge. I head down a grass-covered slope slowly building up a head of steam. I hit maybe 40 MPH trying to head them off at the bridge.
I won and made it to the bridge before they did. Just as I passed a sign saying 7 tons in front of the bridge it dawned on me I'd better stop. No stopping 52 tons traveling at 40 plus miles an hour on grass (energy=1/2 mass X velocity squared). I actually shifted into reverse and floored it trying to slow down. When I hit the bridge I went through it and into the creek. I had the hatch open. water poured into the hatch. At least I had the brains to shift back into low forward, floor it and duck. I came back up through the bottom of the bridge and onto dry land. I drove the tank into a village,
it was still full of water. After opening the drain valve it wasn't emptying very quickly at all.
The Tank commander says drop the escape hatch so we can empty this sucker out. I drop the hatch and a small tidal wave of water flows across the street, up and over the curb and into a bakery.
I got scolded for using poor judgment and then praised for showing good spirit. One of those situations when they didn't really know whether they wanted to demote me or promote me.
one of my friends came back from the Navy. told me there are only 4 things to do in the Navy: get drunk, fight, play cards and smoke cigarettes. (and, when he got out he got a computer programming job making 80K with what he learned in the Navy)
Dead silence for a count of 3. Range NCO- "What the hell- you know you are going to- commence firing!" World War III erupted. Deer ran all the way across and out the right side of the range- and still moving.
Eisa sat silent for a while, and then quite loudly said, "You know, Captain Raab, in my entire life I have seen two camels." Short pause...
"They were in the San Diego Zoo."
Silence in the room. I grinned.
Not so funny is the fact that when the Shah was deposed and the Revolutionaries took over, they demanded that all Iranian student pilots be immediately returned to Iran. Our government did so in an attempt to trade them for the embassy hostages. When that plane landed, every last student pilot aboard was taken off and immediately executed. I miss Eisa to this day.
I salute Officers of any military when in uniform. And when not in uniform show them the respect their rank deserves. There are exceptions, known Asshats are avoided and interactions minimized.
When you get right down to it soldiers of any military likely have more in common with each other than they do with their political masters and the average civilian.
Many of my neighbors were from the same unit in WW II, Waffen SS Paratroopers. They never held a grudge against me and I treated them with respect. Common experiences sometimes transcend cultural divides, indoctrination and ignorant hate. An example might be that I don't hate the VC or the NVA, I do hate Jane Fonda.
I had some interactions with the Shahs' military back before the revolution. I knew the difference between most of them and the religious fanatics.
I wasn't being critical, following the lead of your Officers is understandable.
As the only LT in the office (it was just me and the boss, and LTC, and 3 EMs) I got tasked to go to a lot of "Important" meetings.
One was on the "full integration of women" into the Army.
It was a "roundtable" discussion with everything from a full bird down to a E-5 and I remember at one point the COL (obviously in a "retirement" job) complaining about what it would take to house women in one of the old brick barracks.
First he asked about the need to post guards, and was assured that the females had been through the same Basic Combat Training as the males and could take care of themselves.
Then he came up with the BIG QUESTION -- "What are we going to do about the uninals?"
A stunned silence followed, then a fed-up female E-5 looks at him and states, "We'll plant flowers in them."
COl appeared to understand that he had just been shown the future and, I suspect, was glad he was getting out of "This Man's Army."
When we were allies with Iran and the Shah was in power, we trained many members of the Iranian military, from enlisted to pilots and senior staff. All who came here were hand-picked by the Shah and many were "princes" or at least very highly born - virtually all the pilot trainees were. Some of them had little or no ability to be a pilot, but many did. All of them suffered from language difficulties (they had formal English skills, but floundered when encountering ubiquitous military slang, especially during high pressure situations) but all of them were good men and usually well educated. A few of them I would have hated to face as enemies.
The Shah was no saint, but the Islamic Revolution ruined that country and destroyed what might have been a formidable military.
Back to humor but Iran related...
Part of pilot training's better rituals back then was that upon first jet solo, the student bought his instructor a bottle of good booze. (That wonderful tradition is banned in today's "enlightened" Air Force, sadly.) No Iranian student could be seen buying booze, and to avoid that they had pistachios flown in from Iran (Overnight. No chit.) Not the pistachios you think you know. These were the size of cherrystone clams, not dyed red but all natural, artfully arranged on a tray nearly two feet in diameter. And they were sublime. To say that the "camel jockeys" outdid their US counterparts in the matter of first solo gratuities was a gross understatement. And from the twinkle in their eyes - doubly sweet due to soloing and presenting that tray - they well knew it.
His Grand dad was rolling in his grave
Our Motor Pool Deuce and 1/2 had a ring mount on it. The Company Commander had the whole motorpool familiarize ourselves with the M2 Browning 50 cal. We took a class on breaking it down, operating it, and head spacing the barrel. We then went to the range over the course of a 3 day weekend drill. Shot the 50 off a tripod - was a ton fun.
The following summer FTX, they issued us a crap load off 50 cal blanks (20+ ammo cans) plus had us driving all over Fort McCoy Wisconsin with the Motor Pool Deuce. That Dueuce also had all our tools in it.
The evening before the last day of the Field Training Exercise, found us having no OP4 incursions. Dealing with that 50 cal had been a real pita for the past 2 weeks. Us motor pool guys got together and said - screw it! We're lighting off the 50 1st thing, tomorrow AM.
I was still a newbie so all the guys gave me their blanks for their M16's. None of them wanted to clean their rifles. I had 8 mags of blanks - my job was the fire them off full auto as soon as the 50 went off.
So come 430AM we light up the 50 cal to wake everyone up. Fire off one long continuous belt of 50 cal blanks. I fired all my blanks in the air as fast as possible. The ensuing chaos was a sight to be seen!!! Had guys doing leap frog - you go, I'll cover - maneuvers, had one especially gungho 1st LT that was advancing on the "enemy" all by himself.
Finally the 1st Sgt yelled - Cease Fire Cease Fire!!!
Good times - no one lost rank over it.
It was on a Sunday, I got a call around 04:30 to have my aircraft preflighted and ready for an 06:30 launch. Made it out to the line splickety split and found my plane being dismantled by the camera crew. They had orders to pull all the equipment out of the forward bay. I thought at the time that it was a pretty odd order, but got on with my preflight inspection. Had everything ready just before the flight crew pulled up in the expediter truck. Our wing commander who was a full bird coronel and his friend who was a brigadier one star general got out and began doing their walk around. When they got to the front of the aircraft, they signaled the driver of the expediter truck, who commenced to load up their luggage into the recently vacated forward aircraft bay.
I couldn't help but notice most of the stuff being put inside was golf equipment. My puzzled looks must have gotten the attention of the coronel as he came over and while offering his hand to shake started explaining that they were off to Nevada (Nellis) for some meetings and a round of golf. I just smiled and told him his bird was ready to go.
Caught the plane the next day afternoon and assisted the pilots with the unloading of their gear. My commander thanked me and commended me for my very professional launch & recovery skills. Then told me that his general (names long forgotten) buddy had left me a gift all the way forward in the camera bay compartment. By the time I checked to see what was there, the pilots were gone. A full ice cold case of Coors beer! 8-)
His Grand dad was still alive at that time, he passed away in 1981. :roll:
The best place for lunch at Ft. Knox '73-'75 was the "Field Ration Mess" in the Armor School area.
When I first started eating there there were a bunch of Vietnamese officers attending the Armor Officer Advanced Course and they ate there and were always laughing and joking with their classmates during lunch.
The day after SVN fell they were noticeably absent.
Always wondered what happened to them.
's what is the hold up on the champagne. Now SFC D
's asked me and I replied "you saw me bring the two cases in." The aide and SFC D
's looked like the world was coming to a end.
A detail from the Motor Pool had just gone off duty about the time the champagne turned up missing. About five minutes after the aide left, in walks Westy, "SGT D
's where is that champagne, my guest have run out." I thought oops the SH is going to hit TF. General Westmoreland walked over to a restricted phone on the wall and called the Provost Marshall. He explained the situation and finished by saying I want this post shut down right now!
Well I often have wondered since the 60's what I would have done if they had cell phones in those days and I could have called the dispatcher and warned the troops. These guys could not take one bottle of champagne, they had to take the whole darn case. They went back to barracks, called the girls, took a shower and thought there will be a hot time in the old town tonight until the MP's had them open their trunk at the South Gate. Two guys got reduction in rank and the third a PVT was fined I believe two thirds of his pay for six months. Please don't get me wrong here because Mike Wallace did not get everything right about Westy. I would probably never had made the phone call. Crime does not pay.
I have a book I'll try and find for you, not much luck so far. It is a good rendition of life as a Tanker in Nam. I was never with an Armor unit in Nam, I did rub elbows with them. I was a master tank mechanic, turret, chassis and weapons. Once they figured out I had the answers to many of there problems they hit me up all the time for advice. Tanks are labor-intensive, maintenance is pretty much constant and ongoing.
I was an advance party for a possible/likely Armor division moving to Nam in 69. They eventually called it off, Nixon got cold feet. The NVA screwed up and moved light PT-76 tanks from the north, south down the Ho Chi Min trail. The thinking was if they could do it moving tanks south we could reverse the flow and move a couple of Armored divisions north and end the war. The whole project was secret, Nixon was saying one thing to the public and planning on doing the reverse of the talking points.
Tanks aren't ideal for climates like Vietnam. The low lands and soft earth get them stuck pretty quickly. Driving any number of them in a column down most roads will destroy the road. Big trees or rocks will high center them and likely pop a track off the road wheels and sprocket. If a tank company (14-15 tanks) travels down a road in a column and makes a turn at the same intersection, in short order a large portion of the road is stacked to one side in a 6-8 foot pile of asphalt and dirt. In plain terms, they tear some chit up. If a tank company travels down a dirt road in the rain they quickly leave ruts and tank sized mud holes few trucks can drive through.
One of my jobs while I was there was to locate any and all sources of gravel I could find and access production capabilities.
Most of the Heavy Armor I saw in Nam was used in static defense, strong points, and convoy security (supply lines).
The US Embassy in Baghdad, Iraq had an Iraqi M1 Abrams Tank parked across the street with it's muzzle of the main gun pointed at the front gate of the embassy.