I'm Going To turn All Your File Cabinets Upside Down
After returning from Vietnam my second tour I was sent to Aberdeen Proving Grounds, Maryland, for a six week school. I had been at home on R&R (Rest and Recuperation) when I was told not to go back to Vietnam but to report to Aberdeen for the course. The course was for aircraft armament systems on the helicopters we flew. There were twelve of us in the course and all fresh out of Vietnam and fighting.
The course went fine but we were quite a mixed group. There were a couple of the guys that went and had a “hydraulic” lunch every day. It was called “hydraulic” because hydraulic means fluid and they drank a few beers for lunch. There were a lot of pilots in Vietnam that drank pretty heavily and came back alcoholics. These boys I would classify as alcoholics and they smelled like it in the afternoon.
Because we were all at a short term school and headed for permanent duty stations, we were not paid while we were there. Some of us had not been paid since being in Vietnam and that was getting to be two months. We had moving expenses that were eating up our money. As we approached the end of the school we were told that we would be given some pay to travel to our permanent duty stations. It wasn't going to be all of the money we were owed but, it would help.
The last day of the course was on a Friday. In the morning we had the final exams and then about noon we were to go to the finance office for our pay. It sounded like it would all work out fine but a hurricane had different ideas. Thursday night a hurricane went through and dumped a great deal of rainfall on the area. Some trees were blown over but it didn't look too bad to me.
Friday morning we went in and took our final exams. All twelve of us passed and we headed from there over to the finance office. It was about eleven thirty in the morning, when we walked in and asked for our pay. We waited a bit and then a soldier came back over to tell us that we would not be getting paid and that we would have to wait until we got to our permanent duty station. That provoked the group a bit and we were all complaining that we had not been paid in two months and needed some money in order to travel.
A sergeant then came over to tell us the same thing. His message was not well received and he met with more complaining. It was not the quietest of conversations that were being had. Then a major came out of his office to see what was going on. He was the head finance officer and this was his turf. He asked what was going on. We were all too happy to tell him we wanted some pay and we needed to get traveling to our new duty station. He also told us that because of the storm they were short handed and would not be paying us so we would have to wait until we reached our new duty station. Some of us had families with us and we were hurting for money.
It was at this point that things turned ugly! One of the guys that I thought was an alcoholic stepped to the front of the group and told the major that he was going to lunch and when he came back they better have his money ready for him. He added that he would be back at twelve thirty and if his money was not ready he was going to jump over the counter and turn all of the finance office's file cabinets upside down. And he said he would throw all of the finance records all over the room. The rest of us stood in silence as we watched him walk away after finishing his threat.
There wasn't much more to say so the rest of us turned and walked away too. A few of us went to lunch together and waited a while before going back to the finance office. My fears were that when we came back the MP's (Military Police) would be waiting to lock us up for threatening a senior officer. We just didn't need any more troubles than we had.
I thought it best to quietly return to the finance office on my own so I waited until just after one o'clock. When I reported to the finance office they were cordial and had cash ready for me. Most of the others in our group had already been there and had picked up their money. With money in hand I left and headed for my new duty station.
In the military there are all of the extremes. Some people wear uniforms but hardly know they are in the military. During the Vietnam era I had a cousin who joined the Army and went to Washington DC, and spent about thirteen years playing in the Army band. He never saw or knew any other duty. He didn't train for combat and he certainly never was shot at or shot at someone else. He received the same benefits of serving in the Vietnam era that guys that served in Vietnam received. Even in Vietnam there was a world of difference in jobs. Some soldiers were in combat a great deal of their tour and others never had combat.
It is very doubtful that the finance major ever took a gun in his hands to shoot at another person or was ever shot at. There are few attacks on finance offices. When he met up with this group of warrant officers just out of combat they must have seemed insane to him. But if he understood that only a few short weeks earlier we would have shot someone for being in the “wrong uniform” he would have known that the threat from our alcoholic friend was probably pretty serious.
Sometimes we talked about a “peacetime Army” and a “combat Army” Peacetime armies put on great parades and march around looking really nice. They have all of their paperwork in order and do great on inspections. They are great for peacetime but many of those soldiers don't do well in combat. And many combat soldiers don't do well in a peacetime army. They are warriors not parade dolls.
Combat is a terrible thing and does terrible things to everyone that serves in it. Every person deals with it differently. Some become alcoholics. Some can't get over the nightmares. Some have domestic violence problems. Some retreat into a world of making believe it didn't happen or insanity. Some take their own lives. Some simply shut the door on that part of their life and never look in there again.
The responsibility for war is an interesting thing. If soldiers follow orders and only do what legal orders tell them to do, I believe the entire responsibility for what happens rests with those who decided to go to war. Yes, the soldier may have been the one that looked down the sight at another human being and pulled the trigger but his doing it was because he had legal orders to do so. The political leaders who decided that war was justified have the responsibility for every death and injury that occurs. Heaven help them if they caused those deaths and injuries and they were not justifiable.
I was fortunate to have a wife that I could tell every horrible thing to. When someone was shot down and killed I told her. When someone was shot to pieces I told her. When my aircraft took many hits I told her. She had nerves of steel and faith of iron to hear it all and wait to see if I would return. And to wait to find out what I would return as. Would I return and deal with what I had seen and done or would I go off the deep end?
The military walks a fine line trying to train people to kill on command and also have these same people able to be at peace at other times. In combat a soldier must explode in an instant to unleash terrible forces that will take human life. Unlike the Hollywood movies that have a “bad guy” reappear in another movie when a soldier takes a life, in reality that life is gone forever. I think deep down inside most soldiers know that the guy they are looking down the sights at has a family. He wants to live to go home and be with them. He may even deserve to live to go home. But there can be no hesitation in a soldier's action and there should be no regret in what happens. If he has followed legal orders the blood he just spilled belongs on the heads of those who caused the war. Our leaders, their leaders or both; it doesn't matter!
The great challenge for the soldier is to go from combat to peacetime. In wars prior to Vietnam most soldiers returned home by troop ships. These troop ships took weeks to months to return home after the fighting. During the Vietnam war, we hustled soldiers home by airplane. Sometimes they went from jungle to hometown in forty-eight hours! It was good to be back home quickly but what most people didn't realize was that we had just taken a human being from an environment where they killed people if they dressed wrong (an enemy uniform) to a place where people could call you “killers”, “baby killers”, “murders” or anything else and that was their right. They could spit on you and that was their right. But now, there must not be the explosion of violence!
I believe soldiers can come home but they are never quite the same. For every time they see a friend killed next them or blown up or, look down the sight and take a life there is a scar. Placed inside of them has been the ability to explode in a terrible violence. And they have seen and used that violence. They have seen people that never got to go home. Some were friends and others they saw down the sights of a weapon and they stopped their lives. It takes family love and understanding to control what is now inside. I humbly confess that there have been times since combat when someone has really aggravated me and the thought went through my mind that I had killed enemy soldiers for less. And I have heard other combat veterans from WWII to Vietnam say about the same thing. Time softens the memories, the nerves, and the pain but none of that will ever be forgotten.
The responsibility to send someone to war is a terrible thing. It is not the general that sits on the hill and sends people into combat that deserves any credit. It wasn't Wellington that beat Napoleon or any other general that wins a war. I do respect many generals, presidents and other leaders but some I don't think are worth two cents. I think George Washington was not only a great general but a great president. He had been there and done that. The winners and losers are the soldiers, sailors, marines, and flight crews that face fear and death that win and lose. And everyone that was there won and lost!
This nation and every other nation owes their people who have served in combat more than they will ever know or be able to repay. Not only do those who actually serve pay a price that is beyond any compensation, but those who waited for them, those who went without a husband or wife or father or mother or brother or son or daughter for the rest of their lives have given more than others will ever know or appreciate. We all better hope and pray that those who sit in power and make the decisions that send people into combat have been there themselves. Either they have served in combat or have lost a loved one. Otherwise they will never know the price they are asking of others. The only good leaders I have known did not “sit on the hill” and send others to combat while they watched as a spectator. They were at the head of the charge! I can follow a leader but you can't lead from shelter!
The course went fine but we were quite a mixed group. There were a couple of the guys that went and had a “hydraulic” lunch every day. It was called “hydraulic” because hydraulic means fluid and they drank a few beers for lunch. There were a lot of pilots in Vietnam that drank pretty heavily and came back alcoholics. These boys I would classify as alcoholics and they smelled like it in the afternoon.
Because we were all at a short term school and headed for permanent duty stations, we were not paid while we were there. Some of us had not been paid since being in Vietnam and that was getting to be two months. We had moving expenses that were eating up our money. As we approached the end of the school we were told that we would be given some pay to travel to our permanent duty stations. It wasn't going to be all of the money we were owed but, it would help.
The last day of the course was on a Friday. In the morning we had the final exams and then about noon we were to go to the finance office for our pay. It sounded like it would all work out fine but a hurricane had different ideas. Thursday night a hurricane went through and dumped a great deal of rainfall on the area. Some trees were blown over but it didn't look too bad to me.
Friday morning we went in and took our final exams. All twelve of us passed and we headed from there over to the finance office. It was about eleven thirty in the morning, when we walked in and asked for our pay. We waited a bit and then a soldier came back over to tell us that we would not be getting paid and that we would have to wait until we got to our permanent duty station. That provoked the group a bit and we were all complaining that we had not been paid in two months and needed some money in order to travel.
A sergeant then came over to tell us the same thing. His message was not well received and he met with more complaining. It was not the quietest of conversations that were being had. Then a major came out of his office to see what was going on. He was the head finance officer and this was his turf. He asked what was going on. We were all too happy to tell him we wanted some pay and we needed to get traveling to our new duty station. He also told us that because of the storm they were short handed and would not be paying us so we would have to wait until we reached our new duty station. Some of us had families with us and we were hurting for money.
It was at this point that things turned ugly! One of the guys that I thought was an alcoholic stepped to the front of the group and told the major that he was going to lunch and when he came back they better have his money ready for him. He added that he would be back at twelve thirty and if his money was not ready he was going to jump over the counter and turn all of the finance office's file cabinets upside down. And he said he would throw all of the finance records all over the room. The rest of us stood in silence as we watched him walk away after finishing his threat.
There wasn't much more to say so the rest of us turned and walked away too. A few of us went to lunch together and waited a while before going back to the finance office. My fears were that when we came back the MP's (Military Police) would be waiting to lock us up for threatening a senior officer. We just didn't need any more troubles than we had.
I thought it best to quietly return to the finance office on my own so I waited until just after one o'clock. When I reported to the finance office they were cordial and had cash ready for me. Most of the others in our group had already been there and had picked up their money. With money in hand I left and headed for my new duty station.
In the military there are all of the extremes. Some people wear uniforms but hardly know they are in the military. During the Vietnam era I had a cousin who joined the Army and went to Washington DC, and spent about thirteen years playing in the Army band. He never saw or knew any other duty. He didn't train for combat and he certainly never was shot at or shot at someone else. He received the same benefits of serving in the Vietnam era that guys that served in Vietnam received. Even in Vietnam there was a world of difference in jobs. Some soldiers were in combat a great deal of their tour and others never had combat.
It is very doubtful that the finance major ever took a gun in his hands to shoot at another person or was ever shot at. There are few attacks on finance offices. When he met up with this group of warrant officers just out of combat they must have seemed insane to him. But if he understood that only a few short weeks earlier we would have shot someone for being in the “wrong uniform” he would have known that the threat from our alcoholic friend was probably pretty serious.
Sometimes we talked about a “peacetime Army” and a “combat Army” Peacetime armies put on great parades and march around looking really nice. They have all of their paperwork in order and do great on inspections. They are great for peacetime but many of those soldiers don't do well in combat. And many combat soldiers don't do well in a peacetime army. They are warriors not parade dolls.
Combat is a terrible thing and does terrible things to everyone that serves in it. Every person deals with it differently. Some become alcoholics. Some can't get over the nightmares. Some have domestic violence problems. Some retreat into a world of making believe it didn't happen or insanity. Some take their own lives. Some simply shut the door on that part of their life and never look in there again.
The responsibility for war is an interesting thing. If soldiers follow orders and only do what legal orders tell them to do, I believe the entire responsibility for what happens rests with those who decided to go to war. Yes, the soldier may have been the one that looked down the sight at another human being and pulled the trigger but his doing it was because he had legal orders to do so. The political leaders who decided that war was justified have the responsibility for every death and injury that occurs. Heaven help them if they caused those deaths and injuries and they were not justifiable.
I was fortunate to have a wife that I could tell every horrible thing to. When someone was shot down and killed I told her. When someone was shot to pieces I told her. When my aircraft took many hits I told her. She had nerves of steel and faith of iron to hear it all and wait to see if I would return. And to wait to find out what I would return as. Would I return and deal with what I had seen and done or would I go off the deep end?
The military walks a fine line trying to train people to kill on command and also have these same people able to be at peace at other times. In combat a soldier must explode in an instant to unleash terrible forces that will take human life. Unlike the Hollywood movies that have a “bad guy” reappear in another movie when a soldier takes a life, in reality that life is gone forever. I think deep down inside most soldiers know that the guy they are looking down the sights at has a family. He wants to live to go home and be with them. He may even deserve to live to go home. But there can be no hesitation in a soldier's action and there should be no regret in what happens. If he has followed legal orders the blood he just spilled belongs on the heads of those who caused the war. Our leaders, their leaders or both; it doesn't matter!
The great challenge for the soldier is to go from combat to peacetime. In wars prior to Vietnam most soldiers returned home by troop ships. These troop ships took weeks to months to return home after the fighting. During the Vietnam war, we hustled soldiers home by airplane. Sometimes they went from jungle to hometown in forty-eight hours! It was good to be back home quickly but what most people didn't realize was that we had just taken a human being from an environment where they killed people if they dressed wrong (an enemy uniform) to a place where people could call you “killers”, “baby killers”, “murders” or anything else and that was their right. They could spit on you and that was their right. But now, there must not be the explosion of violence!
I believe soldiers can come home but they are never quite the same. For every time they see a friend killed next them or blown up or, look down the sight and take a life there is a scar. Placed inside of them has been the ability to explode in a terrible violence. And they have seen and used that violence. They have seen people that never got to go home. Some were friends and others they saw down the sights of a weapon and they stopped their lives. It takes family love and understanding to control what is now inside. I humbly confess that there have been times since combat when someone has really aggravated me and the thought went through my mind that I had killed enemy soldiers for less. And I have heard other combat veterans from WWII to Vietnam say about the same thing. Time softens the memories, the nerves, and the pain but none of that will ever be forgotten.
The responsibility to send someone to war is a terrible thing. It is not the general that sits on the hill and sends people into combat that deserves any credit. It wasn't Wellington that beat Napoleon or any other general that wins a war. I do respect many generals, presidents and other leaders but some I don't think are worth two cents. I think George Washington was not only a great general but a great president. He had been there and done that. The winners and losers are the soldiers, sailors, marines, and flight crews that face fear and death that win and lose. And everyone that was there won and lost!
This nation and every other nation owes their people who have served in combat more than they will ever know or be able to repay. Not only do those who actually serve pay a price that is beyond any compensation, but those who waited for them, those who went without a husband or wife or father or mother or brother or son or daughter for the rest of their lives have given more than others will ever know or appreciate. We all better hope and pray that those who sit in power and make the decisions that send people into combat have been there themselves. Either they have served in combat or have lost a loved one. Otherwise they will never know the price they are asking of others. The only good leaders I have known did not “sit on the hill” and send others to combat while they watched as a spectator. They were at the head of the charge! I can follow a leader but you can't lead from shelter!
posted by Bruce | 6:18 PM
1 Comments:
Bruce...enjoyed your comments. War is a terrible thing, no doubt. No wonder so many guys came back alcoholics. Booze was dirt cheap in Vietnam. You could get a bottle of premium whisky for what it would cost you for a gallon of milk, a carton of cigarettes were the same cost. Satan had his hand in that scenario. Us "air men" got shot at alot but did very little shooting back, except when we were being overrun and then they needed every man or boy, circle one. I didn't have a wife in those years and turned 22 in Nam. I got 26 letters from my Mom and one from my Dad. My folks were busy taking care of my five younger brothers and one sister and had their own challenges. To be worried about a wife and maybe children then, would have made the tour even scarier. The Church didn't even come into my life till 1973. I got thru wartime by having the attitude that I was never gonna get out alive. I watched our C-141's carry hundreds of body bags every week. When I finally arrived home safely, in Sept of 1968, I was surprised and grateful.
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