Strange Tales

For some reason, there are some books that just inspire me to write, not read.  These thoughts come from one of those events.  Buckle up as I tell you a tale that I am not sure where it will go or end.

One time during a Physical, I mentioned to the Doctor that I had a lump on the muscle of my right arm.  It didn't hurt or anything, but it sure looked funny as hell when I stood in front of my mirror and made my Superman Pose.  Kind of like those arms of Popeye that bulge in places they shouldn't.   He said that he would refer me to the Surgeon in the Medical Practice  (Cotton O'Neil) just to be sure. I put it completely out of my mind for a week or so and went to the appointment.

I waited for a few minutes and was finally shown into one of the exam rooms.  I think there must be some kind of design for the doctor's offices.  In the middle there is a big metal cabinet that has a paper covered pad on top.  Along one wall there is a series of cabinets and one wall with a blood pressure cuff and an examination device to look in places to dark to see.   The doctor came in and I showed him what I considered a minor thing.  He said it was probably some kind of a fat deposit but it wouldn't hurt to see.  I expected him to say come back in a week or two and we'll cut it out.  Nope, he called in a nurse and she prepared a shot for the procedure.

I think they call it a local because it doesn't make you numb all over just where it is needed.  While the shot was numbing my arm, the nurse did some prep by laying out a cloth over the rest of my arm.  I think the Doctor was either drinking coffee or seeing one of the waiting room full of people I saw when I came in.  After about ten minutes, the Doctor reappeared and put on some rubber gloves.  He asked for a scalpel and cut me so quick that I hardly knew what he had done.  He pressed on the muscle and forced out the fat deposit and told the nurse to sent it to the lab but it looked like just a fat deposit.  He stood up off the stool he was on and told the nurse to close the arm with stitches.  She used what looked like monofilament fishing line, slapped a bandage on me and sent me out of the door. 

I guess the moral of this short story is that if you go to a surgeon, you will probably get cut on.  A week later I removed the stitches myself rather than wait three or more days to have the assistant do it.  When I called his nurse, she had me talk to the nurse that had assisted the Doctor.  Yes, the arm is healing nicely and there is no infection.  Good, end of story.

One day I was having my teeth cleaned by the Hygienist for my Dentist.  She is a really sweet person and manages to hurt the hell out of me but I go back for some strange reason.  There must be some masochist in there some where.  When she had my teeth cleaned and she had flossed with what felt like clothes line rope, she asked one of the Dentists in the Practice to examine her job.  Normally my Dentist does that but this time he was either playing golf or visiting one of his rural practices.  This time I had a female Dentist look at the X-rays and then into my mouth.  Just as she finished, she said how long have you had this growth on your face?  Right below my left eye was a red spot that had just been getting larger over the years.  I told her that I had no idea.  She told the hygienist to make me an appointment with the Plastic Surgeon and an oral surgeon for a patch on the inside of my cheek.  I went as soon as I could get in.

The surgeon took one look at the growth, pitched me the fact that he could do an eye job while he was in there at a discounted rate and told me that it would be at the Topeka Same Day surgery at 7:45 the next Tuesday.    I told him that I looked as old as I am and just didn't think I needed the extra procedure.  OK, go home and be early next week.

I didn't have a clue what was going to happen but I showed up anyway.  They put me in this funny gown and gave me a shot.  I remember being helped onto a table and a bright light being shined in my eyes.  A while later, I woke up and noticed my face had a big bandage under one eye.  They helped me dress and I went home.  No big deal, and I was told to keep it cleaned and to put Vaseline on it for a few days.  I was told to come back to the doctor's office and I did.

When I went to the Doctor's office, I noticed a lot of people there that were going to have some procedure or the other.  All I wanted was for the assistant to take the stitches out and for them to send me home.  When the Doctor came in, he was serious as hell.  He told me that he had screwed up and the growth was cancer.  He did not have the pathology lab standing by and he was going to have to go back in and do a deep tissue biopsy to make sure he had it all.  I swear that I went numb and the only thing I remembered that he scheduled me for the repeat of the same procedure in a month or so later. 

I won't bore you with the facts of that procedure.  I will tell you that it was a repeat of what I wrote in the preceding paragraphs.  The only difference was this time when he took the stitches out he said it was all clear now. 

 The oral surgeon was scheduled to do a biopsy of a patch on the inside of my cheek that was a dry rough place caused by years if smoking a pipe.  They prepped me and the dentist said screw the biopsy, I am going to remove the whole patch.  He did and he took off a place about the size of a nickel.  A couple of stitches and I was sent home.  The report of that was it was not cancer and it hasn't bothered me since. 

What I really want you to take away from this, is that I don't remember the pain or any suffering.  It is kind of like how I feel about my time in Vietnam.  I remember a lot of the details and people but have blocked out the panic, fear or any pain.  Time will heal all wounds or perhaps time will wound all heels.  Oh well,

MUD

Basketball

My hat's off to ESPN for carrying the two games they had on last night.  Other than the fact that Dick Vitale was one of the announcers for the KU vs. Duke game, it was a great evening of some of the best basketball of this young year.  Michigan State has a great team and Kentucky played them right to the last of the game.  The same could be said about Duke and KU.  How can these 4 teams be this good this early in the season?  To me, the fact that KU graduated their entire starting five last year is tribute that Bill Self could even put a team on the floor.  To beat a Duke team is just a feat that tells me that after reloading KU will again have a great team this year.  KU Has a p[layer that is as smart as any player in Basketball.  Perry Ellis is shifty. He just scored 20 points and grabbed a lot of rebounds without all the hype we saw about the 8 McDonald's All American Freshmen in the games.  The kid that broke his scoring record in Wichita didn't even get into the game.  Oh well. 

This morning after our second day of temperatures below 20, the leaves are beating a hasty retreat to the ground.  Just a short time back time, the leaves across the Midwest were so pretty that it is a shame to have them falling to the ground.  One of the prettiest things I saw was the Asian Pear tree that had bright yellow leaves.  The grass was still green and about 1/3 of the leaves were surrounding the tree.  The Hickory trees here at Rabbit Run were also very spectacular this year.  A lot of times I take Barb to Leavenworth to see the trees along the banks of the Missouri.  The drive they call their Esplanade is spectacular and it is almost better than the cannon run on the Fort.  This year we stayed right here at home for some of the best views.

This has been a great couple of weeks to have Dave coming over for visits.  His wife was on a cruise with her best friend and 11 other girls from Austin.   Dave and I enclosed the front porch at his home and most days came here for some great meals.  My wife, Barbara came up the last day of our project and sure made it looked great.  I will say it again that if you want something built I am your go to guy.  If you want it pretty, get Barb involved.  We make a pretty good couple.

MUD 

Just How Stupid Can We Be?

Now that we have Obama Care as the law of the Land, just how stupid could we have been to have believed a word of what we were told? You can keep your insurance or the new plan will save you about $2,500.  The whole reason this Ponzi scheme would have worked was if the young (read-Healthy) people signed up rather than pay a penalty.  There also had to be a lot of the old plans that were not coverage enough to cover everyone.  Now there is talk that the President is trying to get Congress to modify the bill to pay a part of the premium so individuals won't have to pay tons more.

What part of it is that no one seems to understand about the budget?  We are spending at least a Trillion Dollars more than we are taking in and we already owe about  five years of our income to the National Debt.   Just how far will we continue to push the limits until our system falls apart?   We are in the standards of Dave Ramsey and Dennis Petty, Broke! 

Just for one election, I would say we should not re-elect anyone and see if they just might get the message.

MUD

Veteran's Day

Most of the Veteran's I know gave you at least a year in a Combat zone and 20 more years in uniform so we could have the right to celebrate one day on the 11th Hour of the 11th day.  Tomorrow I will go to the Great Overland Station here in Topeka at 2 PM to sing the National Anthem and America the beautiful.  I am not sure where I will be at 11 AM but you can sure bet that I will be thinking of all my friends that didn't come back. 

The tradition calls for all departed soldiers to be at Fiddler's Green waiting to share a cup of grog with those friends that will come later on.  I can bet there will be some tall tales told and a few lies shared.  Grog will do that to you.

1966 seems like yesterday

MUD
COL, USA, (Ret)

Feeling Old

There were a lot of times that I worked hard and felt tired at the end of the day.  Yesterday I worked but not as hard and felt completely worn out at day's end.  I guess I will one of these days have to admit that I am getting old(er).  After a quick 66 years, you might think that I could still give 'er the gun for 8 hours.  Not so much.

I went up to Dave's and we finished the trim and put on a coat of paint on the porch cover.  Barb came along and cleaned up the flower beds and her work made it shine.  I sure hope that Dave's wife Barbara is as pleased with the work as we are.    She has been on a cruise with her friend Mel and 12 of Mel's friends.  If she is anything like me, she is ready to get home and spend the night in her own bed. 

I read a funny story in today's paper.  I guess a hunter put up a corn feeder and a trail camera.  The local cows found the feeder and trampled the life out of it and ate $40.00 worth of corn when they figured out what was in it.  The local farmer saved his trail camera from the feeding frenzy and he had a lot of funny pictures of "Cow's gone wild."  The article ended with a story about some turkey hunters.  There was this large male turkey that would strut out into a herd of cows and elude the hunters.  The hunters decided to find a cow hide and slip out in the middle of the herd to trick that turkey.  Sure enough the turkey flew down in to the herd and strutted near.  About that time, the rear most person under the skin told the other guy that here comes the bull.  "What should we do?"  The guy in front said "I'm going to put my head down and pretend to eat grass.  Brace yourself!" 

With all that said, I think I will take a bucket of corn down and fetch the SD card out of the Trail Cam.

Look at the date on this.  I got the month and day right but somehow changed the year.

MUD

170.000 Vistors

I know that a few of the hits are just me looking at something I wrote earlier but well over 169,000 time someone else opened these pages to see what I would say next.   I welcome all of you to these pages and hope you enjoy the ride.

MUD
COL, USA (Ret)
Head laborer at Rabbit Run farms
Tecumseh, By God, Kansas

Certainty

There are some things that just won't change.  Here is just a few to think about:

• Death.  The only option other than living is death.  I don't worry about when my life will end, only the way it does.  I am trying to live as long and well as I can.  Love, laugh and live.
• Taxes.  Barb tells me we probably need to pay more taxes and do a better job as a society supporting the really important things in life.  I don't tell her but I do agree that there are a lot of things we could spend more on and make our life better. 
• Transportation.  There was a time I would have put the word Cars here but as I look back, no matter what we drove, they turned into transportation and the memories of where we went are a lot more important than how we got there.
• Clothes.  I have never been a person that spent a lot of money on what I wore except for the uniforms I wore when I was in the Guard or Regular Army.  Now I wear clothes to be warm or not to be naked.  The other day the rod holding up my clothes fell down and I hauled off a bag of clothes to the Salvation Army.  Probably need to haul off a bag or two more.  I do find that a few quality things often outlast and outwear piles of cheap clothes.  A good work shirt from Tractor Supply will last a lot longer than a fancy shirt from Macy's.
• Shoes.  This is one area that I probably spend more on than most people do.  I do not own a lots of pairs of shoes, just a few pairs of darned good comfortable shoes and a couple pairs of boots.  Barb told me one time that if you try on a pair of shoes and they aren't comfortable from the start, don't buy them.  Good Advice. 
• Friendship/love and Sex.  I have a world full of friends.  There are some I love and darned few that I have had sex with.   My advice to anyone out there is to think about that and remember to keep the categories clear in your mind.  I recommend you only have sex with someone that you most of all love and they should also be a friend because if you do it right, there will be a lot more friendship than love and a danged lot more love than sex. 
• Stuff.  There is a lot of confusion about the things that are important and stuff.  I have a lot of stuff and darned few things that raise to the level of importance. By cluttering up my life with stuff, I am sure that I have lost view of what's really important.  I could probably haul off a dumpster full of stuff and be better off for it.  But that would take time and that leads me to the next topic.
• Time.  I wish I had a better understanding of time.  There are a lot of times I want time to go fast and get to move on to more important places and times.  Then when I look back, I wish I had more time to do things the way I wanted to do them.  I have spent 66 years wishing I had time go by faster and now I want it to slow the hell down.  Oh well.
• Houses.  I grew up poor and there were a lot of mornings that I woke up with frost on the inside of the window near my bed.  As I remember it, the only carpet we ever had in our house was the one I scrounged up as a young teenager and the neighbors got a new carpet in their living room.  As I have progressed through life, I have had a series of bigger and better houses until now Barb and I have about 1500 sq. feet each and neither one of us are in love with keeping that much space clean.  If I had any less, where would I put all that stuff I have spent a lifetime accumulating.
• Reading.  I spent a lifetime in the Military reading and writing things and I thought just how nice it would be to retire and forget about that.  Here I sit at the keyboard wishing my vision was better so I could read more.  Danged Disgusting that we need to grow old and take naps. What's next, diapers?  Depends...

MUD

Uncertainty

It is very interesting that people don't understand that life is really one uncertainty after another.  In fact, how boring would it be to have our lives like the movie, "Groundhog Day."  I had a student of mine tell me that there was no risk in investing.  I guess there is no risk in trying to develop new friendships either.    I am not saying that we crave change, but to not understand or try to, is what's bad.

In a staff meeting years ago, one of the guys was so resistant to change that it was apparent that he was the only guy that wouldn't go along with a change we needed to make.  After the meeting I spoke with our Chief of Staff and he said in those cases, we need to think of ourselves as being on a journey and those that won't come along are like the settlers that stopped in Missouri to farm instead of going west with the wagon trains.  There was an old Military saying, "Haul Ass and Bypass."  We would just let him have his say and continue on down the road.  Consensus doesn't have to be 100%.

I just finished a book by Clive Cussler and one of the major characters had all the facts on how dangerous it was to travel.  Clearly she knew that the car trip to the airport was a lot more dangerous than flying but she would ride in a car and not fly.  She knew the odds on an event happening but would never apply those odds.  It made for an interesting book but a scary way to live. 

I look back now and find it funny that while in Vietnam, I wouldn't play cards for money.  There I was taking the biggest risk of my life and yet I wouldn't chance it with my money.  I watched some epic games played where one Captain would lose several hundred dollars and have to borrow some money back to make it to payday.  I guess that was one chance I just didn't want to make. 

I saw a lady putting some gas in her Prius and told her about my brother's Prius that has over 200,000 miles on it.  She asked if he had replaced the battery pack yet.  I told her no, it runs fine.  She said that she leases her Prius just because it costs $3,000 to replace the battery pack.  She knows that the Prius overall has the lowest cost of operation and that leasing is not a good bet but, she continues to lease.  Barb and I buy a car and generally drive the wheels off of it.  We save our money and use it as a back up to the cost of a new one.

Way back in the past, Barb would let the checking account grow to cover her uncertainty.  I find it interesting that the amount she "grows" it to has itself grown until I get nervous about the amount we have in one account.  We have started to transfer money into different accounts in the local Credit Union.  I keep telling her that there is an upper limit on how much in total the FDIC or the Feds cover in any one institution.

Speaking of risk, what the heck are you doing with your investments right now.  The stock market is at an all time high and I trust it like I do a simple balloon.  It won't be full forever and as long as the baby boomers are pounding money in it for their retirement, it will look full.  As for me, I am really not saving any more for retirement.  I have my retirement income fixed for now and haven't touched what I have saved.  I may not until the time when I turn 69 1/2 and am forced to take out some by the IRS.  That is just so I will have to pay taxes on something.  Then I will be faced on what the heck will I do with the money left over?  OK, I will pay the taxes on the rest of my income.

Feeding the animals is one way I reduce my uncertainty

One certainty in all of this mess is that sitting here on the computer will eat time from my non busy schedule.  Guess I might as well do something worthwhile.

MUD

Money and the Military

We are headed down a tough road during the period of budget cuts starting this year and extending to a time where the budget is a whole lot closer to balancing.  I want to address a part of the cuts that I hold near and dear.

The question is and always been a balance of Active and Reserve forces in light of the cost.  Here is a reason for both:

A Large Active Force is a deterrent to the enemies of our Country.  It is a requirement from the Constitution and not always a bad thing.  The large force keeps a portion employed that might be at the lower end of the job skill scale.  A common cannoneer, infantryman and truck driver are a much needed labor that keeps the force running.  It also provides some of the people at the bottom of the Socio-economic scale an entry level place to get started in life.  If you add the GI Bill and benefits to that, it helps raise the workforce of our country.  I benefitted from my time in the Military and think there is a need for a lot of that in our society.

The Guard and reserve is a force that helps our enemies see that we are not just a paper tiger and are willing to bring forces to bear on military problems that  confront us.  We are a heck of a lot cheaper than the active forces and I think we are a good bang for the buck.  There is also the offsetting factor that they provide a first job in a lot of places and an entry into many educational markets by providing benefits.  In addition to many college scholarships, there are programs that allow people to attend trade schools at a discounted rate.  I would be remiss if I didn't point out that  the drill pay is a good thing.

The real problem is being kicked around Washington and is like the mating of elephants.  It occurs at a high level and takes a long time to see the results.  It is my hope that the cooler heads prevail and we can find a balance of Active and Reserve forces that makes sense and fits the budget.

In my perfect world (or as I see things)  we need to have a revamp of the forces.  I would have a Land Force, an Air force and a Sea Force.   All the components that don't support a force directly need to be rolled into the appropriate force.  I can not even begin to understand why the Marines need an Air Force like component.  Same for the Navy Aviation.  The coast guard is a Navy job.  In the Reserve, the Ground component needs to go to the Guard.  In the flying mission needs to go to the Air Force Reserves.  I would simplify and consolidate. 

In my example, I want you to know about a Marine Gunnery Instructor I had at Fort Sill, OK.  He was selected for Aviation out of OCS and went entirely through flight school until the check landing on an air craft carrier.  He hit a patch of bad weather and washed out of the program.  In My world, he would have just not been qualified for Aircraft Landings and gone on to a long career in Aviation. I would pay those that land on ships an additional pay and not wash those that can't qualify out of the program.  I'll bet we spent millions and millions of dollars on teaching people to fly that would have been great fixed base pilots and had a long career.  To add insult to injury, this Pilot was then assigned to teach gunnery at Fort Sill like the Artillery was a set of second class citizens that were the dregs and got only what was leftover. 

I wish our Congress well and hope they figure this all out.   I say that they need to do a great job and we should give them a chance and throw them out if they don't do what is needed.

MUD   

Female Military Vets

I am probably one of the last Dinosaurs that served in the Military when females were the exception rather than the norm.  There were many times that a guy could just strip off his clothes and wash where he needed without the chance of embarrassing himself of someone else.  In most of the rear areas in Vietnam, there were 155mm howitzer powder canisters half buried in the ground as relief stations.  There weren't many women in the forward areas where I was in the 60's. 

That lasted until in the 70's when women started being assigned to some of the combat jobs but restricted to the higher Headquarters.  There was a smattering of women in the clerical jobs like a Personnel Action Center but those jobs were very limited in the rank the female soldiers could reach.

I can remember the first time that it was important to have porta potties for our units in the field.  The relocation of them was or became a full time job because you could never tell when or where you would need them.  But with that said, those are just the details, not the real reason it is important to have females in the Military.

Let no one forget that the Military has a brutal job.  We are by our very job description paid to meet and greet the enemy on a battlefield and neutralize their abilities.  This in many cases has led to a climate of brutal soldiers and Marines.  Females help keep the climate in units stay professional.  I find it a little inappropriate to swear as much and am always amazed that women can do most of the jobs men do. 

I am not sure where this is going but I do want to thank SGM Harrison for all her hard work to set a high standard.   There are so many others, Sallie, Becky, Robby that have served with me and helped us all be a success.  There is also Chris that helped put a smile on my face in in my heart.  

My wish is that on the 11th Hour of the 11th day of the 11th Month you think about all the people that have served.  Don't overlook the female members as they too served.    OK, I think there are a heck of a lot of spouses that worked hard as we were away from our homes.  I give them a shout out also.   Crap, how can I do justice to this and not to say thanks to the female civilian staff members that made our jobs possible. 

SALUTE!

MUD
COL, USA (Ret)

The Time After

After working outside three days on Dave's porch, it sure was nice to have a day off.  I think I have pretty much recovered and am well rested.  Meds and a cuppa coffee work wonders.

For those that are no KU Fans, you can skip the next couple of paragraphs.  Last night it was very plain that the hawks have a heck of a lot more than 8 players that round out a squad.  The beauty is that it pretty much appears that subs can be made without completely stopping the momentum.  Such a dilemma for Bill Self.  Last night I saw why the kid Conner Frankincamp is in there.  The announcer told us that during his high school career in Wichita he scored more points than Perry Ellis. 

In addition to some darned good shooters, some great playmakers, the hawks have a couple of big men that bring their lunch pail and play. The kid, Black from Memphis is great and Traylor is pretty darned tough.  The announcers said last night that some of the early talk is that there may be three players on the Hawks that could go in the first round of the NBA Draft next year.  I am almost afraid of what is going to be the reload next year. 

Now back to the real world.    The Barbershop Chorus will make an appearance at the Great Overland Station on Veteran's Day.  It is always a treat to sing the national Anthem and we'll end with America the Beautiful.  I just hope the sound in the great room at the Overland Station can ring like I think it will.  I want the Chorus to sing in the Rotunda of the Capital.  We have a rendition of Home on the Range that should just blow their doors off. I know the sound in the rotunda just rings. 

A couple of weeks back, Barbara was given a gift card for the Salty Iguana in Lawrence.   We have been promising Dave and ourselves a trip there for a week or so.  I am hoping that lunch will include a trip there today.  We had talked about it last nigh but we had some great roast beef and BBQ sauce that just called out our name.  With the hawks playing a home game in Lawrence last night, it would have been a mad house there. 

In honor of Dave's wife's birthday we had a rice crispy cake.  The only bad part was that she is on a boat in the Caribbean with 12 friends and not here.  I just knocks me out how much we have in common and how she and I seem to like the same food and share the same jokes.  I say it is way cool that Dave has a wife and mother that loves him and they like each other.  For years, my wife Barbara would go shopping and come home with clothes for others.  Now she has Barb to take with her and I won't get more clothes to fill my closet. 

Last week when Barbara finished the laundry, I brought an armload of stuff to hang up in the closet. It caused the clothes rod to let loose.  Plain that I just had way too many clothes hanging there.  I grabbed an armload of the shirts and put them on the rod on the other side of the closet.  It was just enough to knock that rod down also.  I spent almost $50.00 on new brackets and end keepers.  I seriously found studs with some 16 penny nails and it should last another 20 years, if I remember to recycle some of the stuff to the Salvation Army.  When I put the rod back up, I found that I have 13 pairs of jeans.  Throw in almost the same number of sweatshirts and you a have a disaster building.

Well, I'd better get my act together.

MUD 

Part 9

This is the last of the updated war stories.  I am in OCS at Fort Sill, Oklahoma and nearing Graduation on the 3rd of July 1967.  I think I mentioned that my buddy Harvey rode the same bus I went to Kansas City on when I went up to be inducted.  He followed me to Leonard Wood a month later but there was somewhat of a snafu in his Reception Station Company stay and while I was there for less than a week, he was there for almost two weeks.  We really didn't have a chance to get together and I went off to Fort Sill when he was only in his second week of Basic. 
I tried to stay in touch with him and found out about the time I was home for the Christmas Holidays that he was on orders to go to his AIT in a real unit and was going to OJT rather than go to a unit like I did.  He had hopes of going to OCS but I worried that he would have a tough time with the gunnery that was so easy for me.  About the time I had turned Middle Class Harvey showed up at Fort Sill and started on his journey to being an officer. 

While I was able to do the work, I didn't find myself motivated to excel.  I worked hard to meet the standards and stay off the punishment tours.  There was one area that simple snuck up and surprised me.  Survey was an area that I grew to at least like strongly.  I had an attention to detail problem with math but for some reason either I was having an exceptional time with it or just the way it worked made it easy for me.  Basically what we did was start at a known point and mover the survey to three new points that closed back on the first point.  The way the forms worked if you did it all the numbers would match back at the starting point.  We sat in a class room and learned how and then went out and did the work.  I had done some layout work on my construction job and knew how to pull a tape and measure distances.  When we would get the first leg done we would sit in the back of a 3/4 ton truck and compute the work.  We basically converted everything to logarithms and then convert them back on the other end of the page.  I maxed the test and it was the only area other than gunnery that I found easy at Fort Sill.  Well, the first week of motors was way too easy for me.

There were Saturday morning inspections and often parades for the graduating classes.  They were a pain but we seemed to do well and my class looked good in formation.  One Saturday after we were in a parade, I found that I didn't have a clean set of Khakis to go on pass with.  I took the pair I had worn in the parade and ironed them and off we went to Wichita falls.  On Sunday I decided that I needed to stop in a Laundromat and do a load of whites.  My laundry bag was full and I didn't want to send it to the post laundry.  Just as we finished our laundry, a guy stopped me on my way back to the car.  he was a TAC Officer for a different Battery and he didn't like the fact that my Khakis weren't perfect.  In fact they were kind of sorry and he wrote me up for it.  I can't imagine anyone so chicken shit as to carry demerit slips in his cut off blue jeans and T-Shirt.   I went back to my Battery there in Robinson barracks and when I checked in I saw my TAC Officer had the duty that weekend.  He was in his office catching up on the paper work and I knocked on his door.  He invited me in and I explained what had happened.  He said that the guy that had stopped me was one of his class mates and the guy was truly challenged.  He wadded up that slip and threw it away.  Works for Me.

About once a month, there would be some kind of Firepower demonstration out on the range.  It was always fun to go watch units perform the jobs of the artillery and show off their prowess.  After being subjected to some neat artillery shooting and even a Napalm droop form some Air Force planes, they drove an Honest John Rocket out on the area in front of us.  They were going to fire it pointed west and there was an impact area way out there to shoot at.  In all that we had done at Fort Sill, we had never shot into the Quanah Parker Range so it was different.  They elevated the rocket launcher and a Lieutenant shouted, "Safe."  When it as launched, it was very apparent that something very major was wrong.  The whole launcher carried a truck with it and crashed and burned about 150 yards to the left of the stands in a big gulley.  It appeared that whatever held the rocket on the truck had not been disconnected and the rocket carried the truck with it down into the ditch.  To add a touch of humor, someone set of a Nuclear Display device over to the west to simulate the rocket's nuclear capability.  We could clearly see the burning mess in front of us and we all knew that some poor safety officer was headed to Korea as fast as his bags could be packed.

About a month later, we went up to a firepower demonstration up north on post and they were firing on Signal Mountain.  It was a part of the post we seldom used and it was interesting to see the demonstration from there. Near the end, several of the Army airplanes landed and showed off their short landing and take off ability.  Near the end they rolled a Little John Rocket off a Chinook and prepared to fire it.  I was only a candidate but I watched them set it up and get ready.  I told my friends that it was wrong but no one believed me.  They aimed it to the west of Signal Mountain and I told them that unless it had a left hand twist that damned rocket wasn't going to hit the mountain.    Sure enough, they fired it and the rocket was last seen going Southwest to land out in the country somewhere near Cashe, OK.  Someone had pulled up the front aiming stake the Safety Officer had set up the day before and moved it about five feet to the west as a joke.  Everyone was sure he would check it and realize there was something wrong. "WRONG AGAIN."

When we went on our field trip to perform the duties of a Howitzer battery I was the battery XO for the first part.  We did a hip shoot and everything went off well.  A while later, I was given a job in the Fire Direction Center and another Candidate was made the XO.  We rotated jobs to give as many people as they could to get one of the Leadership positions.  To make up some time, the Fire Direction Section and one howitzer was sent forward to a new position.  I watched as the XO Acting XO set up his aiming circle and then was amazed to see the safety officer then use it to check that one gun for safety.  We had been told that id you only had one aiming circle you would pick it up and move it at least a hundred meters and then check the lay of the gun.  When the first round of the gun was fired, the Forward Observer called us and said the round was lost.  They fired a second round and that was when all hell broke loose.  "This Fort Sill Range Control ALL UNITS Check fire!" Have your cannoneers fall in at the rear of the piece and do not fire.   Seems like we had fired two rounds off post and into the parking lot at a Steak House u[p by Lake Elmer Thomas.  The rest of the batter was enroute to the new position and they were allowed to bring their guns into position but no one fired for the rest of that night.   The next morning someone one set up the second aiming circle to lay the other five guns for direction.  When they checked the first gun it was at least 400 mills wrong.  A Bunch of officers from the Post showed up and saw the error.  Another 2nd Lieutenant went off to Korea.  We did get to fire later on that day and  we loaded up the howitzers to complete our field problem.  I had rotated back to the guns that next morning and  when it was time to hook the howitzer up to the 2 1/2 ton truck we were all pretty tired.  The Howitzer had a round device on the trails called a lunette.  It was placed on a hook like device called a Pintle on the truck. Somehow we missed the Pintle and the howitzer began to free fall to the ground.  When the howitzer was in the p position, it only weighed about 300 lbs.  Sitting on the ground it weighed about a ton or two.  The guy to my right had fallen down and the howitzer was headed to smash his legs.  Being a big strong dummy, I tried to hold the howitzer up to let him get out of the way.  I delayed the fall just long enough that he got out of the way.  When the howitzer finally fell, guess who's foot was under the trail.  Yep, I wouldn't even let them take my boot off, load me up in the jeep and go to the Hospital.  By the time we got there, they had to cut the boot laces off and pry my foot out.  All of the toenails on my right foot were purple but the toes were attached.  I was given pain medication and sent back to my unit.

I was on a buck slip for a couple of weeks and didn't march n the formations just to avoid having someone step on the toes of my right foot. 

Graduation day snuck up on us and we were ready to leave Fort Sill on Monday instead of Tuesday the 4th of July.  The real dumb thing is that a couple of the guys went on pass and for some reason didn't make it back until Monday morning.  It seems that they had gone and got drunk and just didn't get back to the post until Monday morning. The last time I saw them they were in the barracks when we went to the Graduation.  I am not sure what happened to them.

OH well, enough of war stories and back to the life of an Old retired Army Guy.

From Private to Colonel

MUD, COL (USAR Ret)

New Story

As a kid, I am not sure of the reason why, but I felt I could do about anything I wanted, or at least needed to do.  We weren't too destructive, just busy.  Being a baby boomer, we were born before TV or computers took over our lives.  We could honestly find things to do and there was no shortage of things to do it with.  I'm sure that some of the other parents worried about their children but mine just didn't seem to notice as much.  I think they probably wore themselves out worrying about my sisters and by the time I got there they were too tired to care.

A typical summer day started out with cereal and a dash outside.  Eugene was waiting on his porch as he wasn't allowed in the house except for meals and bathroom breaks.  I don't remember ever being in his house and he probably doesn't either.  Once we had escaped to the outside (or been thrown out in Eugene's case) that's when things happened. 

One of our main past times was baseball.  We had an open field up at the end of Byrd street and it was the scene of more major ballgames than anywhere else.  Seems like we could almost always find a base ball and equipment to play.  In a lot of cases, you had to share you ball glove with someone else when your team batted.  We would choose up sides and most of the little kids just played outfield.  Seems like there would always be five or six out there.  They mostly didn't have ball gloves as they probably couldn't catch a ball even if they did.  They would chase down well hit baseballs and throw it as near to the infield as they could. 

One day right in the middle of one of these epic games,  the baseball we were playing with just lost it's cover.  We wore that ball completely out.  At the time, Mrs. Bandy has some baseballs in her freezer.  I think that was the only place she could lock them up.  We went on a pop bottle raid and somehow collected up a dollar.  We went to the Bandy's house and she sold us one of those frozen baseballs.  I am not sure other than Christmas that any of us ever had a brand new baseball.  It was no stretch to say that we used that ball for weeks until it too was lost or fell apart.  The only hard part was who was the keeper of the ball between games?  I am not sure but because I was generally the one to start gathering up people to play, I think I took it home that night.   Do you know the difference between a home run and a run home?  The sound of broken glass. 

When we were kids, there was no such thing as air conditioning.  Outside was our playground and it mattered little who had been in the bath lately.  I think that Mrs. Sawyer started to take some of us to the swimming pool to help get rid of the stink.   I thought it was funny that her son Ronny was the poorest swimmer and when we broke down in to class groups Ron was a Tadpole most of the time.  I started swimming in lakes and rivers and think it would have been tough to drown me.  I could swim almost as fast under water as most people could swim on the surface. 

 544 Byrd Street

Byrd Street there on the east side of Wichita ran parallel to the parking lot for Beech Aircraft.  They ran their lights most nights until well after the second shift go off.  We played some great hide and go seek games and "Kick the Can" was one of my favorite games.  The person(s) who was it would hunt for us and then run back to the can to capture those found.  If someone else kicked over the can, everyone would be free and we would start over.  It was a lot like Monopoly as some games just ended without a winner or looser.  I did learn that Mrs. Browner had prickly pear cactus in her front garden -The hard way.  I jumped in the garden to hide as someone ran by and it was a real pain to have my mother pick all those little brown cactus splinters out.   I think I itched for a week.

Did I mention Firecrackers?  For at least a week prior to the 4th of July there was an eruption of Black Cat firecrackers all the time.  We tried our best to blow up things and make as much noise as we could.  It was really cool to take one of those little tomato sauce cans and see how high we blow one up.  I seem to remember that baby food came in cans prior to the glass bottles.  I am sure that the mailman would have to reach in and kind of sweep out the paper from all of the firecrackers set off in them.  My sisters seemed to always have one or two of their boyfriends over and they were the one's that brought the big stuff.  My favorite was the time that one of them brought over a 4 dollar string of black cats and set the whole string off.  I picked up at least a hundred duds and I was in tall cotton.  I sat down with a razor blade and disassembled those crackers into the flash powder that made them go band and the fuses that had black powder in them.  We were into making those model cars and there was no shortage of those little bumpy glass paint bottles from Testor's paint.  No, I wasn't smart about the idea of shrapnel.  I filled a bottle with all the gun powder I could get I there.  I took at least three fuses from another pack of firecrackers and taped them together.  I poked a hole in the lid and put that fuse in the hole.  I put it on a fence post and tried to outrun the glass pieces.  It was almost dark when I got it ready and it turned into daylight when it went off.  My sister thought it was funny when she had to pick the glass out of a bunch of places on my back.  It was kind of cool, but I was damned lucky to have been able to get out of the real beaten zone.  That bottle  just broke into about 1/4 inch pieces and must have been a couple of hundred of them. 

Oh well, in spite of my misadventures I managed to survive and have all my fingers and toes.  I won't brag about my hearing but I think the howitzers and rifles in the Army did more to hurt than an occasional explosions. 

Better see if Barb needs any help.

MUD

Living Life as Best as I Can

Yesterday was my son's 38th Birthday.  Holy Crap, that means I must be old.  Just so you will know, it really doesn't sink in until I think back to how long it has been since some remarkable date.  Barb will celebrate her 50th High School graduation next year.  One year later I will be celebrating mine.  In a couple of years, I will have 50 years since I first wore an Army Uniform and a year after that from my commissioning date.  I guess my sign should be the bunch of Old Farts I see wearing Vietnam Veteran Hats. 

Last week we went down to Seminole Oklahoma and stopped in to see my cousin Robin and her husband Greg in Cleveland, Oklahoma.  It was pretty clear to me that they too have figured out that there are many ways to be happy in life.  We were fortunate to have both of their children there to visit at the same time we were there.  We even got to meet their granddaughter Ellie.  It is a shame that she is so shy. I guess Robin and Greg have both retired now and they both look are as happy as I feel.

Barb and I have almost everything we need and most of what we want.  We worked hard and saved money to get here but we are pretty darned happy with the way things have turned out. 

Another piece of good news is that Dave has completed his A+ Certification.  With his customer service experience and his time on the geek squad, he hopes to wrangle a new job soon.  He has great skills and now all it will take is for someone to meet him and see what he is worth. 

It has been kind of cool the last couple of days but I hope it will warm up some today and I get a chance to go cut down some trees where the new building will be  Last week we laid out the 24 X 30 pad and it is enormous.  I will also need to cut down the trees about 4 foot around the perimeter.  Oh well, perhaps I can use some of the wood to heat the building when it gets built.  I will only heat it when it is going to snow and I will need to use the tractor to push snow.   I don't want it to become a home for the pack rats.  They can just live out in the brush piles. 

Pushing Snow

I guess I'd better get moving and get some work done or it will get dark and I'll be wondering what happened to my day.

MUD 

Booze to Youz

I come from a family of "Large Livers."  Not long livers, large livers from the consumption of many forms of alcohol.   I have been known to drink copious quantities of that yellow St Louis foam from Budweiser.  There was also a phase where I drank "Cutty Sark" scotch and one or two times I drank one of those single malt scotches from Glenlevitt.  I am currently in a phase of my life where I lay claim to be sober today.  Don't get me wrong, I am not an alcoholic. I am just a sober drunk and don't go to the meetings.  In the 12 steps there is a saying that I might not be sober forever but for today I am. 

I can't remember a time when alcohol wasn't a part of the family gatherings in my family.  The adults drank and kids mooched sips from time to time.  I am sure that a lot of people will tell you that they don't like the taste of beer but I was never that fortunate.  The only time when I would not have a taste for booze was after one of those times I really overindulged and it would take a week or two before I could even abide the smell let alone the taste of beer. 

I had a paper route in the 9th grade.  On Friday nights, one of my Friends Danny Rex and I would go to the movies.  His mother would give him enough money to go to the Drive-in and I would buy each of us a Quart of beer.  Danny was old enough to buy beer and we would take his 47 Ford Coupe and go see what ever was on.  Seems like as often as not, Danny would drink about half of his quart and either pass out or go to sleep and I would finish his quart and mine.  I often drove home.

I remember for my 16th Birthday several of us went to the Drive-in with lots and lots of beer.  I do remember getting so drunk that I started to the concession stand and I fell down in a mud puddle.  I am fairly sure that I would have drowned had my pal Denny L not stumbled on me as he too was headed to the bathroom.  He helped me up and back to the car.  He laid me on the ground there and everyone thought it was funny as I laid there and threw-up.  The sad thing was that by the time we went home, I was the most sober person and I drove home.  I remember going to work the next morning and the car was full of sloshing water and peanut shells.  I guess it is a good time to tell you that if you eat peanuts and drink, try to chew them up well.  They are like boulders coming back up if you don't.

Most of my time in Basic, AIT and OCS we were in forced sobriety and there was a few times I was able to have a couple of beers but not often.  My first time to be exposed to hard drinking was Fort Irwin, California.  We were 30 miles from Barstow, California and few of us had anything there to go see.  The daily routine was to go to the officers club and drink.  At least twice a week we had an officers call there and we would conduct our business and then the meeting would dissolve into playing Liar's Dice for pitchers of beer.  The entire staff of the battalion bought beer mugs and mad could we ever drink beer.  I never did learn to lie well and I bought a lot of pitchers.  The bad news was I also consumed a lot.  Our BOQ was right next door to the club so we could all walk home or stagger as the case might be. 

Next door to the club was the Class VI (6) store where they sold the hard stuff.  I was not 21 but they didn't ever ask for ID if we were 2nd Lieutenants.  I found that I had a taste for Cutty Sark and a fifth of it would just about last three days if I didn't go to the club for a round of beer.  The bonus was that they would even let me use my club card to charge it.  I had a fridge in my room and three ice cube trays.  I kept them full of water to make Ice. 

For some reason as we got to the Boat in Long Beach, I too them serious about no booze.  That meant that for 18 days I was in forced sobriety.  When we got to Vietnam, the daily limit was two beers and I pretty much followed that with a few slips.  To this day, I hate hot Carling Black Label in a rusty can.   am sure that the good stuff never cleared the ports and they drank up all the Budweiser.  The one exception to my forced sobriety was the time I somehow got a Quart of scotch enroute to an infantry unit that was in the Field.  The unit commander briefed me when I arrived and he said no booze in his unit.  I told him that I had a quart of Scotch and I would not drink it when I was in the field.  I old him that he could check the label anytime and he never did.  One of the old Sergeants found out somehow that I had a bottle.  He started the bidding for that bottle at $20 and by the time I had been there for 6 weeks he was up to a hundred dollars.  I never cracked the seal and took it with me when I left that unit.  I had a 2 quart canteen and when I got to base cam p and found that I would be there for a couple of days I emptied half of that canteen and filled it with Scotch.   I proceeded to get just as drunk as I could and stayed that way for a couple of days. 

The only other time I got drunk in Vietnam was during the Christmas cease fire.  My sister sent me a bottle of 409 cleaner and I wondered what the hell?  When I opened the cap, I found out that the flask was full of good old Scotch.  While we sat around and played cards that night I did sip from my canteen a few times. 

As I went to work for the Guard, I progressed up through the ranks and as the stress of my job got harder, I drank pretty much every night to cope with it.  I continued to drink but almost always at home so it wasn't a problem.  (to me)    Sometime about 20 years back, I was the Military Personnel Officer for the State and I hated every minute of that job.  One of my Officers scheduled a session for the Family Support Groups and it included a Alcohol Awareness class.  I took Barb and we attended that class.  The instructor handed out a sheet and had us answer the questions.  I answered 7 of the 10 "yes."   I saw that Barbara (who doesn't drink) answered 10 as a "Yes."  When the instructor told us that if we had 3 or more yes's we ere probably in need of help, I asked Barbara why she had 10 as yes.  She told me that she had answered the questions for me. When I asked her about the fact that I had only 7 and she had 10, she told me that I was probably too drunk to notice. 

That was the start of my sobriety.  Like I said, I may not be sober forever, but today I am.   I will probably stay that way until I die and reach that garden spot called Watkins Glen where I will share a mug of grog (whatever that is) and tell war stories with my earlier departed friends.  I may even smoke a cigar or two but that's a different story.

MUD
COL, USA (Ret) 

Part 8

In 1967 I went through Officer Candidate School at Fort Sill, Oklahoma.  They had high standards and absolutely no compassion for the Candidates.  In fact there was a system that allowed the worst to come out in people and really didn't do much but harass people.  I came to the Robinson Barracks area after completing an OCS Prep class.  I knew what to expect and it was said that I could put a shine on a sidewalk with a Hershey bar and a brick.  In spite of that, it seems that every time I turned around someone wanted to give me a paper slip with Demerits to keep me from being allowed to relax a little on the weekends.

The first punishment tour was what they called the Parking lot.  I don't think there was anyone that didn't go on that first punishment tour.  In fact I think the Tactical Officers (Tac Officers) looked at the data posted in the Orderly room and found reasons to pass out enough demerits to get everyone in on the fun.  I am not sure what was my offense was after the time between now and then.  All I know is that we went over to the Orderly room and drew our M-14's for the event.  We wore our old boots and worse Fatigues for the day.  We were marched around the parade field and made enough dust to plug up everyone's sinuses and make cleaning the M-14's an hour long project. As much as I loved the M-14 in basic, I grew to hate it in OCS.  In fact, we never fired the damn things in AIT or OCS. The worse part of the entire parking lot tour was that one big long legged guy started off on his right foot not his left like everyone else.  Guess who knocked the heel off my boot.  As busy as we were there was just almost no way to get a new pair let alone make them shine to OCS standards.   The guy who knocked off my heel had just purchased a new pair of Corcoran Jump Boots and they were too small for him.  He had blisters so bad he had to go on sick call.  The good news was that they just fit me and he gave them to me.  They fit just about as good as any pair of boots I ever owned.  I could spit shine the toes of those boots and almost blind people on a sunny day.

I managed to stay off the too many demerit list for the next parking lot tour, but the first Jark was almost mandatory.  From the front gate of Robinson barracks it was 2.2 miles to the foot of Medicine Bluff-4 (MB4) and we walked in a funny stiff legged march they called the Adjutant Walk.  At the foot of MB4 we broke ranks and ran or trotted up the bluff. Then we would march back to our Barracks.  It was a tradition that the first time we went up MB4 we picked up a rock and carried it back to our Area.  We would go over to the bunk of someone we knew and leave it in their bed.  God only knows what happened to the rocks and I'm sure that MB4 kept getting shorter.  I don't a memory of the person I gifted the rock with. 

From that weekend on, I managed to stay just under the number of demerits it took to make a repeat trip.  I shut up and didn't tell anyone for fear that someone might tell the TAC officers and get me a bunch of trips.  I continues to polish my boots, Brasso my brass and wear a new uniform as much as I could.   In fact Sundays were great when I could go over to the Day Room and eat a couple dollars worth of Fried Pies and drink Coffee.  When everyone else or nearly everyone else went for a Jark I would take a well deserved nap.  

One Sunday morning one of the guys in our Cubicle went to the day room and brought a Baby Ruth Candy Bar back to the barracks.  Food was highly discouraged as it was bound to attract bugs and that was the last thing we needed.  My buddy was right in the middle of eating that damned candy bar when someone downstairs called "attention."  Rather than get caught with that evidence he stuffed the wrapper in a 3 Inch binder on the desk.  It was where we were to store handouts from our training classes but he had one that was empty.  Who ever it was downstairs didn't come up stairs and after he left the candy rapper got put in a trash can that was emptied every day. 

Well to make a long story out of a short one, that damned candy wrapper had one small piece of chocolate and a half of a peanut in it and they fell out on the desk.  The binder was just enough out of alignment to catch the TAC Officer's attention the next day when he walked through the barracks.  He found that damned sliver of chocolate and that half of a peanut.  There on the Desk was a 6X6 for unauthorized food in the barracks.  That was six weeks of no pass and 6 jarks.  The guy that put the candy wrapper there had a wife in Lawton and had not been home for over 8 weeks.  He begged us to split the punishment and I took a 2X2.  I really didn't have any one to see in Lawton so other than the Jarks it was not a big deal to me.   The only bad part of the entire mess is that my buddy failed a test the next week and was "Set Back" to a class that had to go through the Meteorological Instruction to pass the MET + VE test.  I have no clue if he ever graduated  What that meant was that I was all the way up to 3 trips up that damned hill.  If that wasn't a record, it had to be close.  I am pretty sure that One Parking Lot and One Jark would have been a record.

When we were middle class about to turn upper class, My parents brought a Volvo dawn for me to have if I was free on the weekend.  Was that ever a game changer for me.  I worked doubly hard to get free of the Post on the weekend and made it pretty much through the rest of OCS.  The car was given a temporary permit when it first got there and I was given a booklet on what the inspections to get a permit was.   Damn, I had never had a car with seat belts and the Volvo was no exception.  The first weekend I free I went to a local salvage and they let me look through the wrecks for a set.  O found a shoulder strap set but no lap belt.  I put them in and when the Inspector asked about seat belts at the MP station I showed him the shoulder strap.  I got my post sticker and moved on smartly.

The real reason I loved the Volvo was it gave me the freedom to go to Wichita Falls on Saturday.   Right there on the north side of town was a Ramada Inn with a swimming pool and next door was a Mexican Restaurant.  That Restaurant had a wonderful platter of food and a giant mug of beer that just  filled me up and caused sleep like there was no tomorrow.  I would get up on Sunday morning, read the paper, drink coffee and them go for a swim.  It was pure heaven for me.  I generally took three or four guys with me and we would go back to Lawton, OK and stop at a Pancake house on our way back in to the barracks.  Then it was another week of doing what we could do and look good doing it. 

MUD

OCS at Fort Sill, 1967 Part 7

I was a damned lucky guy to have completed OCS Prep and was I ready to for the BS and games they played when we got to OCS.  There was some story that the cadre wanted to see how we stood up to stress but I think deep down there was a tradition of screwing with people that just held on no matter how hard they tried to kill it.  It was clear that the young Officers going through the FA Basic course were not screwed with but the 23 week OCS classes we were fair game. 

Early Sunday Morning, three of us walked over to the Robinson Barracks area and reported to the Brigade headquarters.  We were marched down to one of the old wooden barracks and we were told to go in and get our gear in order.  I am not sure where they came from, but we were given a mimeograph paper with the lay-out in detail.  For the three of us from OCS Prep, it was just a matter of putting our things where they were on the new sheet and then help the others get ready.  I think it took me about 15 minutes and there were guys that were never ready.  If you  came from an Infantry AIT, your worn out stuff would never pass any inspection in OCS.  The bad part was that the PX in our area was closed and there was no way to get the stuff they needed.  We tried.  The only salvation in any of this was that there was one or two of the guys that were married and their wives were in Lawton.  After some serious work, lists of the needed things were made and the wives got together and saved our butts.  It was a blessing to have them to help but I'm sure that the fact the husbands couldn't even kiss them in the parking lot was a pain worse. 

The first two weeks were a blur and we spent that time making everything shine and be so clean you could eat off the floor.  The only good thing was that the first two weeks was called Motors and most of us could drive cars and trucks and knew the difference between Diesel and Regular Gasoline.  Even the short time getting a driver's license in basic helped me know some of the forms.  I think I slept through every movie we were given and passed that phase without no sweat.  The harassment continued and I had three guys in my cubicle that no matter how hard I worked could not get it together.  I am fairly sure that the fact my stuff looked good made theirs look worse.  Day after day we would come back to our barracks to find half of the stuff thrown all over the place and mine stuff was not messed with.  There was a system of demerits given and the only way you could work off the demerits was to do parking lot tours early and what we called jarks later on. 

From the start, it was easy to see that the barracks we were in while old, were so well maintained that we could easily make them look good.  I was the floor buffer and every day the last one out of the building.  We even made our class motto have notches where the heels of our boots and shoes would go so every display was the same.  I would sneak down to the mess hall and go in a side door when my duty was done.  For some reason I never was challenged on why I was late. It took the Battery at least 15 minutes to march down and get inside the mess hall. I would put that time to good use.  We were never given demerits for the shape of the floor so I continued that duty for most of the 23 weeks.


One day the Tactical Officer (TAC Officer) came in to our area and gave us a sheet so we could do a peer rating.  We took a roster of the names and put a number by each name for how helpful we had been.  The next week we were called into the TAC Officer's office and given our Leadership grade.  Keep in mind, I was squared away, worked hard and helped anyone that needed help.  The TAC Officer gave me a 69 for my Leadership grade.  In common language that was a failing grade.  He said that I was ranked in a three way tie for 1 out of 30.  He said I was too young and too helpful.  I asked him what the scores on the Motors test were.  He said I was scored  100 out of 100 and based on that he might give me a chance.  He told me that every time my peer rating went down, my leadership grade would go up.  It took me until the end of OCS to get that grade back up in the 90's.

It didn't take us long to get our Platoon attitude in check and make a motto.  We would shout cooperate and graduate and we worked hard to overcome any one soldier's short comings.   In fact, we made a banner on the end wall that said, "Iligitimi Non- Carborundum" roughly translated to don't let those of uncertain parentage grind you down.  When we were put on a bus to go to a new area, we would always start out with the group chant.  "We hate this fucking place."  Then someone would say Give me a Positive attitude check, "We positively absolutely hate this fucking place."  I don't know if that ever got back to our Battery but a lot of the drivers were old retired guys and they laughed at us - A Lot! 

Next update will be a couple days from now and I'll talk about the Demerits, the parking lot tours and the Jark.

MUD

Part 6

Upon arrival at Fort Sill, we were told to go stand in a line and give the secretary the Records folder that we had been given.  When it was my turn, the secretary opened the file and said, "There seems to be a mistake, you were ordered to go to Fort Lee for AIT.  I tried to explain that there had been a screw up on the orders and I was told to come to Fort Sill.  Of course it was assumed to be my fault and I was sent over to sit on a bench until someone cleared it all up.  I waited most of the day right there on that damn bench.  I was not allowed to even go over to the vending machines to get a snack. 

Finally about 5 Pm when everyone was getting ready to go home for the day, a very tired looking Captain came over and got me.  He explained that I didn't have orders for Fort Sill and I was AWOL from Fort Lee.  Instead of having me taken to the MP station, he said he would send me over to the transit barracks for the night.  What could I do but follow orders.  had I been arrested I could have kissed OCS goodbye.    The next morning I went back to the transit point and the secretary handed me a set of orders telling me to report to the OCS Preparatory Battery.  She sent me out front where a Military taxi was waiting. 

When I got over to the OCS Preparatory area, I was told by the clerk that I was late and the First Sergeant would see me soon.  I waited until about noon and finally the First Sergeant called me into his office.  I was given an ass chewing of the finest kind.  Finally when he ran out of things to shout about he asked me what I had to say for myself.  I calmly explained that I had applied for OCS and somehow the orders got screwed up.  It took until that morning for them to catch up with me and if he didn't mind I had every intention to do exactly what I was ordered to do.  "Get the hell out of my office trainee."  On to the rest of the day.

When I went upstairs to the big rooms called bays, there was about 100 guys in there trying to figure out what the hell they had gotten themselves in for.  About every half hour some Lieutenant would come in and shout at us for being morons.  We were given a piece of paper that detailed what our footlockers and wall lockers were to look like and we damned sure had better get our act together.  Finally it was time for dinner and while we were gone, the Lieutenant had come in and torn our displays all to hell.  I had arrived late and was down in the corner.  I guess the Lieutenant had kind of run out of steam and he didn't throw my stuff so far away that I could not tell mine from everyone else's.  By that evening, there was a revolt brewing and I think about half of the guys there wanted to quit.  By the next morning, there was a line outside the orderly room door of people that had all of the Chicken Shit stuff they could stand.  I didn't know an better and stayed.

After the group thinned out, our Training NCO SFC Flores came in and briefed us on what would be expected for the rest of the time.  He was about half right.  The standards did get us ready for OCS but the games they played were way more chicken shit than OCS was.  We were given our first inspection that first week and were given an on post pass.  I promptly found a small grill/bar/snack shop and ate myself silly on hamburgers and beer.  I think that saved my life as I had not eaten a single meal worth eating in a week. 

The classes started and we were told that we were going to get the MOS of 13E which was field Artillery Fire Direction Specialist as well as get ready for OCS.  Just about the time things settled down, the whole world collapsed around us.  We were moved from the 1960 era buildings to the WWII barracks over by the OCS area.  They had just renovated those barracks and they were way not up to the shape of the OCS barracks.  The red vinyl we saw in the OCS barracks was a pink color and no matter how much liquid wax we applied never got very dark.  Classes continued and while I was learning a lot things in the barracks never got much better.  In the middle of the sixth week, we had the Colonel's inspection and he only made it about half way down the first row of bunks when he promptly threw a fit and left. 

The NCO's all were in what I called a low hover and there was not much more we could have done.  We were restricted to the barracks and told that until the re-inspection it was to be assholes and elbows cleaning the joint.  The biggest complaint was the floor didn't shine.  Finally I went to SGT Flores and asked him what the hell more could we do.  He told me to take up a collection and get about $30.  I did and he left only to come back with a bunch of cans called "Red Tree Wax"  Because I knew how to run a buffer, I became the machine operator to a team that applied the wax.  We even had one of the little guys sit on the buffer to burnish the wax.  We buffed away the next night and finally the floor began to look somewhat red and not pink.  It was hard to get the color even around all the partitions but we got it much better.  On Monday the Colonel came back and was happy.  It is amazing what a little wax and knowledge made.

A couple of days later, the LT came into the barracks and found a couple of foot lockers unlocked.  Shit hit the fan and our "Lack of attention to detail" was the cause of more punishment.  One of the guys was from New York City and had just purchased his bus ticket so he could go home for Christmas.   He was told that he would have to do a push-up for every penny that ticket was worth and for the next week every time we stopped anywhere you could hear that poor guy in the back of the formation, "One Sir, Two Sir..."  I think he had to do three hundred push ups the last day so he could get on that damned bus for Christmas.

I went home to Wichita for Christmas and was told that I had to wear my uniform the entire time I was home.  Not having a one hour Martinizing there, I put my uniform in the cleaners and wore what the hell I wanted for the next week or so.  I was able to find a date or two during my stay in Wichita but no one that I knew well or wanted to know someone that had Vietnam written all over him.  Yep, I was well on the Vietnam express and knew it.

When we got back to Fort Sill, I really got to know Glen Priddy.  He was just a little taller than I was so when we lined up by height we were next to each other a lot.   He was an honest to God Rocket Scientist and engineer and it was pretty frustrating to get almost of the questions on the test correct to find he got all of them right and then all the extra credit points.  Glen and I stayed together there in AIT and were on orders for the same OCS class in February.  We were going to be Class 25-B and graduate on the 3rd of July 1967.  It would have been the normal Tuesday graduation but nothing happened on the 4th of July. 

Next time it will be OCS.

PVT E2 MUD, soon to be candidate

Part 5

This is after the rifle range and I had earned a pass.  I went beyond the pass limits to go to Pruitt Arkansas but I figured what the hell.  When I got to my Grandparents house, my dad asked me to come outside and talk.  He had been told by my girl friend's uncle that Donna had married a sailor.  Had I known that, I would not have sent her any money I had saved from my first pay day.  I wasn't crushed because during the time I was in the Army she had only written me one letter and that was to ask for money. She said she was pregnant and Dad said she told her family that it was the Sailor's kid.  I went back to Basic training with a renewed feeling that I had things to do and a new future.

When I managed to get back to my Basic Training Company after my trip to the Ozarks, I was one dehydrated guy and had a headache that felt like it could kill.  About the time three aspirins kicked in, a group of guys that went to Springfield on the bus with me showed up.  There were black eyes and bruises all over them.  The Guy I had pulled KP for took off his Class "A" Jacket and all that was left of his shirt was the collar and it had just enough of the collar to tie a tie on.  When he took off his hat the top of his head was the home to new stitches and what little hair he had was shaved like a monk. 

The group went to a cowboy bar in Springfield and harsh word were exchanges with some of the locals over a girl and when one of the heroes shouted "Kiahaa" and took the hand to hand stance he was promptly hit over the head with a beer bottle.  From there, the fight spilled out into the street and the soldiers were promptly ass kicked and sent packing.  Only Weldon, my KP Friend had to go to the Hospital. He seemed to be wounded with a 40mm beer bottle at least half full.  Because the guys got back in time for their passes to end, they weren't punished for the fight.

The next morning, the Company commander called several of us over to his jeep and we were asked if we would wanted to go to Officer Candidate School?   He told us that if we did, we needed to sign some form he had.  I figured that I had little else to do so I did.  After we signed the paper he told us that we would have to go before a board of officers in a couple of days.  If accepted we would have to spend 23 weeks in OCS and then sign up for an additional 24 months.  I figured out that it would give me enough months to finish my college on the GI Bill and besides, that little Police Action in Vietnam would surely be over soon.  Wrong!

A couple of days later we were all spit shined up and told to report to  the day room over at the 2nd Brigade Headquarters.   Sir, Private Petty Reporting as Ordered...  The senior officer returned my salute and I was told to take a seat.  The asked me a couple of questions and then the question of the day was asked.  If selected, what OCS would I like to attend.  I had been told in ROTC that I should go to the sound of the guns and when I saw the Field Artillery Brass on the senior officer I told them that Field Artillery was my first choice and Infantry was my second.    When we got back to our barracks, we were told that about half of us had been selected to go on in the process.  I was immediately scheduled for a Pre Commissioning Physical over at the Hospital.  That process took a couple of days and when I got back to the Company, I found out that they were out in the field on Bivouac.  I was sent over to the Mess hall to load the truck to take the evening meal out to the field.  I went out with the mess team and fed my friends.  They told me stories of throwing the grenades and the live fire assault course.  I was kind of bummed but when I got to go back to the barracks to sleep. I promptly got over it.

The next week our Drill Sergeant asked us if we wanted to be a drill team for a football game the next weekend.  For the next couple of days we practiced and drilled.  We could do the Queen Anne's Salute and at least looked like we knew what to do.  Sure enough the next weekend we were inspected and loaded into a couple of Vans and taken to Springfield where there was a football game. We did a great job and the crowd clapped for us.  It impressed the drill Sergeant so much that we were taken to a liquor store and allowed to have a beer (or two) on the way back. 

I went in to the Orderly room on Pay day and because I knew where to look I saw the board with the points applied.  I saw that I had been credited for the bivouac and the hand grenades.  There was even an automatic weapons score that I had no clue had been done.  There was a string of 10s across the board and the only one short was a 9 1/2 for the rifle range.  It looked like a perfect run of tens and I noticed that there was a soldier named Burden that had the same score except he had a 10 for the rifle range.  I went over that day and told him that he must be a hell of a soldier to be perfect.  He had no clue what I was talking about.  I told him about the score board and his perfect run.  We shook hands and went back on our way. 

When we got to the end of Basic, a select few were promoted to PVT E2 and I saw that I was on that list.  I also saw that PVT E2 Burden was on that list also.  Shortly after that. The orders for Advanced Individual Training were posted.  My name was listed for Fort Lee, VA.  I went over to the orderly room and asked what had happened to the OCS orders.  I was told to hang tight and there would be orders for Fort Sill sent over.  I missed the bus to the Airport for the trip to Fort Lee and was told to get my butt on the bus for Fort Sill.  I did not have any orders in hand but they were to be at Fort Sill. It wasn't the first lie I was told in my Military Career but one that almost cost me a trip to OCS.
Tomorrow Advanced Individual Training (AIT)

PVT E-2 Mud