Born and educated in South central Pennsylvania in the late 1940’s, 1950’s and 1960’s I heard about the Vietnam conflict and other world troubles and didn’t put much emphasis or consideration for any of it considering the history of my teaching and references. Graduating from high school in 1966, I proceeded to work and try to improve my life and future and live as best as I could.
Drafted in 1969, two months after my 20th birthday, my basic training was at Fort Dix, New Jersey and then I was sent to Fort Carson, Colorado for on the job training as a tracked vehicle Mechanic. The impact of all of this training, other than improving my physical condition, did very little for my education and my major thoughts were of the day I would be discharged from the Army and have a somewhat normal life.
I figured my chances of being sent to Vietnam were about 50%
At Fort Carson I trained with other draftees similar to me and returnees from Vietnam who were waiting to be discharged or relocated and some of the trainees were never sent to Vietnam even though they had less time left in their draft status than I. I figured my chances of being sent to Vietnam were about 50%. I had less than a year left to my discharge when I got my orders for Vietnam. Arriving in San Francisco, California for my out processing I heard stories about people not being sent to Vietnam for all kind of reasons. I still felt optimistic about not going, but good luck was not on my side.
I arrived in Ben Hoe and then went to Long Ben where I was transferred several times and ended up at the 135th Maintenance Company as part of maintenance support for field operations. Only there for a couple days, volunteers were sought to be sent to contact teams with field units and I was told to “pack up and go” to La Kay with two others who had arrived with me.
This team was made up of a Cw-2 (Pesche) for officer; an E-6 Sergeant (Rice) as platoon leader and about 8 mechanics of various skills and rank. Our mission was to repair anything from the 11nth ACR, Infantry and Artillery units and other equipment on their location and we traveled anywhere they needed us. My civilian mechanic experience was the only thing that helped me because any military training that they gave me was non-existence.
We all drank a lot of beer and one night a big co-worker (Elkins), got mad at me and clubbed me several times with a black jack and broke my neck while the Sergeant and several others watched. I was never offered any medical attention and in fact was punished by being sent to the 11nth ACR as their mechanic. They hoped I wouldn’t come back. I figured this out after several days and then hopped on a helicopter one day and went back to La Kay. Our team moved to Quan Loi to support The Cambodian invasion and we continued our work. Quan Loi received more enemy attacks and one of our mechanics was hit in the leg by shrapnel from a mortar.
he told me face to face that he was going to make me a KIA!
Our equipment and resources were limited and some of the mechanics only knew how to do something if they were told how and then their work had to be inspected to be sure it was good. We tried to work fast and sometimes jobs were rushed. A guy working with me didn’t install a hydraulic line correctly and after we left it blew off hitting someone. Colonel (Robert Griffith), commander of the 11nth ACR blamed me for the incident and he told me face to face that he was going to make me a KIA! Killed in Action!
I told (Cw-2 Pesche and E-6 Sergeant Rice) from my team about it and asked to not be sent to Colonel Griffith’s area any more but they ignored it and never investigated the incident or gave me any recourse! Any time I was anywhere close to the Colonel or his men I guarded myself but one day the company left the LZ and the mechanic that I was working with suddenly disappeared: then shots rang out and bullets whizzed past me! I ducked behind the engine I was working on and waited for someone to show up that I could trust somewhat! When I had to stay with that outfit I kept my rifle with me and hid anywhere that provided some protection.
After being home some years, I started trying to locate some of the people I was with in Vietnam and found Colonel (Robert Griffith) had returned to his family in the South and inherited his family business and they were worth big money. I heard that he became an alcoholic and lost it all, then committed suicide. That seemed to fit the personality of the commander of the 11nth ACR that threatened to kill me for something stupid in Cambodia!
One night I pulled guard duty at a Cambodian LZ with the 11nth ACR on top of an APC and was never relieved: the next morning Montagnards walked into our LZ and when I looked around I was the only one on duty: soon the Montagnards disappeared into the jungle and shots and rockets came in! I slept under a trailer at night with snakes, bugs and rain just to feel somewhat safe.
After the Cambodian invasion our team moved back to another base, An Loc in the South where we continued repair support for the same outfits. One day I was sent to repair something with (Elkins) the guy that hit me with the club and broke my neck. I took my rifle along as I did anywhere and we proceed in our APC with our tools and parts. I was in the turret and (Elkins) was driving when the right track came off and we careened into a ditch. The big guy (Elkins) hit his chest on the front of the hatchway and said he was hurt. I hitched a ride back to our base and tried to find Sergeant Rice or Cw-2 Pesche but they couldn’t be found and nobody knew where they were! My initial concern was to provide help for the ***hole and then retrieve the equipment so I contacted one of our headquarters for the outfits that we supported and they were of no help! I went back to our base and loaded a towbar on our wrecker and started out to the wreckage area. Our wrecker broke down on the way and I had no alternative but to turn around and as I did our ATV and the big ***hole (Elkins), drove by with help from someone else.
A couple days later a close friend mechanic and I were instructed by Sergeant Rice to change a head gasket on a diesel engine. Immediately I told the Sergeant that other machining was needed and was not available but was ordered to “Do It” anyway! Work didn’t bother me and I did the best appropriate for the situation and when we finally started the engine the head gasket blew again; as I predicted. Sgt. Rice proceeded to blame us for this and wouldn’t acknowledge our forecasted result! I knew Sgt. Rice and Cw-2 Pesche wanted to get rid of us so when they told us to pack our gear and go back to Long Bin it really wasn’t a surprise: They hated us!
I just wanted to get the hell out
Life at the 135th at Long Bin was survivable and ETS was looming in my near future. Officers and Sergeants trying to become famous and insure their lifer upward mobility stepped
on everyone needed to achieve their aspirations anyhow and anyway they needed. After doing guard duty with newbies and surviving stupidly dropped and ignited ordnances in bunkers; temporary job assignments at other bases and being blamed for mechanical problems we had no knowledge of; I just wanted to get the hell out of the army!
One day Sgt. Rice walked up to me at Long Bin and told me that I owed him money for the house girl back at La-Key! I told him he was out of luck and to go **** himself!
Coming home meant more to me than anyone can imagine and although my service accomplished much to my personal common sense knowledge and education I know it was a waste of time, money and lives! Health problems started to show up and that was how I learned that my neck was broken. Two surgeries helped relieve some of the pain and symptoms but I couldn’t do many things. My nerves declined and patience became thin along with my tolerance of ***holes! Holding a decent job was tough and I jumped from job to job all the time. I found an old friend that served with me and we kept in touch for a while until he died. Some other guys contacted me but we really weren’t friends and their stories only reinforced my bad experiences.