Shut Up and Listen to My Story!!
There are some wonderful experiences that happen around the campfires where boys gather. Boy scouts, families and other young folks have some special times as they sit around and tell stories by the light of the fire. In the Army we had some great times sitting around the campfires telling tales. The stories ranged from scary to funny to sad.
The unit I joined in Texas after my second tour in Vietnam had a Cobra platoon of only Vietnam veteran pilots except for one lone person, the platoon leader. He was a great young captain and was a good leader but that didn’t stop us from picking on him. He was a good-natured fellow and took the ribbing from old guys pretty well most of the time.
In Vietnam the Post Exchange sold Seiko watches at a very reasonable price. Every pilot in our platoon had a Seiko watch that he claimed to have purchased in Vietnam, except the platoon leader. Almost without exception every time the platoon leader went to coordinate time for a mission he would announce the time and some pilot would say, “That’s not the time my Seiko has. Where did you get that watch? What time does someone else have?” And sure enough the conversation would end up with discrediting the platoon leader’s time because he did not a real Seiko from Vietnam.
Usually when we went to the field in Texas we were required to go and play tactically. As part of that effort we were to carry our personal weapons. We were never given ammunition for them but we were required to carry an empty weapon around to pretend with. For the pilots that meant carrying our .38 revolvers. The company armory, where all weapons were stored, was at the company headquarters five miles from the flight line. All personnel were required to go in person to the armory and sign out their weapon.
We were told that it was illegal to transport military weapons in our privately owned vehicles (cars) but trucks or jeeps were not available to transport them to the flight line. So we would each sign for our weapons and then give them all to one officer to transport in his privately owned vehicle to the flight line. Our theory was that if one person went to jail at least he would have friends to come and visit him. We all took our turn at doing the transporting of firearms.
One night while this group was sitting around the campfire and telling war stories from Vietnam the platoon leader kept trying to tell a story. A story from him could not be a war story from Vietnam so as soon as a story would end he would try to tell his story. But every time he started someone else would start with a Vietnam story and the group would turn their attention to the Vietnam story. The captain would then wait and when that story ended he would try again.
After about five times of being cut off in his story, the captain tried to start his story one last time. Again another pilot starting a Vietnam story interrupted the captain. At that point the captain jumped to his feet and pulled his empty .38 revolver from its holster and yelled, “Shut up and listen to my story!” With the empty revolver pointed at us we listened quietly to his story.
The story the captain told was of an experience he had in a previous unit. The story was very, very funny and was well told. If anyone else had told it everyone would have been laughing pretty hard. There was not a snicker, laugh or smile from the group when he finished his story. Everyone sat there without saying or doing anything. The captain then called us some unkind words and stomped off to his tent. As soon as he was out of sight everyone broke out in laughter. A little of the laughter was about the story but most of it was about how we had really gotten to the boss.
Generally I think all of the pilots really liked the captain. He was a good man and well respected by some combat hardened old pilots, which wasn’t easy. I don’t know all the reasons why we picked on him but I know that guys pick on guys, especially new guys. Perhaps it is part of testing or initiation or welcoming to the group. I do know that the captain jumping to his feet and pulling his revolver and telling us to shut up and listen let everyone know that he was demanding his place in the group. And he had earned his place in the group! Over the next few days, pilots made comments about the captain like, “I like that boy” or “The captain is going to be all right!” There are groups and situations that require our earning our right of passage. We cannot expect to be accepted into some places without paying a price or showing that we belong there! Our captain belonged with us even though he didn’t have a Seiko watch purchased from a post exchange in Vietnam!
The unit I joined in Texas after my second tour in Vietnam had a Cobra platoon of only Vietnam veteran pilots except for one lone person, the platoon leader. He was a great young captain and was a good leader but that didn’t stop us from picking on him. He was a good-natured fellow and took the ribbing from old guys pretty well most of the time.
In Vietnam the Post Exchange sold Seiko watches at a very reasonable price. Every pilot in our platoon had a Seiko watch that he claimed to have purchased in Vietnam, except the platoon leader. Almost without exception every time the platoon leader went to coordinate time for a mission he would announce the time and some pilot would say, “That’s not the time my Seiko has. Where did you get that watch? What time does someone else have?” And sure enough the conversation would end up with discrediting the platoon leader’s time because he did not a real Seiko from Vietnam.
Usually when we went to the field in Texas we were required to go and play tactically. As part of that effort we were to carry our personal weapons. We were never given ammunition for them but we were required to carry an empty weapon around to pretend with. For the pilots that meant carrying our .38 revolvers. The company armory, where all weapons were stored, was at the company headquarters five miles from the flight line. All personnel were required to go in person to the armory and sign out their weapon.
We were told that it was illegal to transport military weapons in our privately owned vehicles (cars) but trucks or jeeps were not available to transport them to the flight line. So we would each sign for our weapons and then give them all to one officer to transport in his privately owned vehicle to the flight line. Our theory was that if one person went to jail at least he would have friends to come and visit him. We all took our turn at doing the transporting of firearms.
One night while this group was sitting around the campfire and telling war stories from Vietnam the platoon leader kept trying to tell a story. A story from him could not be a war story from Vietnam so as soon as a story would end he would try to tell his story. But every time he started someone else would start with a Vietnam story and the group would turn their attention to the Vietnam story. The captain would then wait and when that story ended he would try again.
After about five times of being cut off in his story, the captain tried to start his story one last time. Again another pilot starting a Vietnam story interrupted the captain. At that point the captain jumped to his feet and pulled his empty .38 revolver from its holster and yelled, “Shut up and listen to my story!” With the empty revolver pointed at us we listened quietly to his story.
The story the captain told was of an experience he had in a previous unit. The story was very, very funny and was well told. If anyone else had told it everyone would have been laughing pretty hard. There was not a snicker, laugh or smile from the group when he finished his story. Everyone sat there without saying or doing anything. The captain then called us some unkind words and stomped off to his tent. As soon as he was out of sight everyone broke out in laughter. A little of the laughter was about the story but most of it was about how we had really gotten to the boss.
Generally I think all of the pilots really liked the captain. He was a good man and well respected by some combat hardened old pilots, which wasn’t easy. I don’t know all the reasons why we picked on him but I know that guys pick on guys, especially new guys. Perhaps it is part of testing or initiation or welcoming to the group. I do know that the captain jumping to his feet and pulling his revolver and telling us to shut up and listen let everyone know that he was demanding his place in the group. And he had earned his place in the group! Over the next few days, pilots made comments about the captain like, “I like that boy” or “The captain is going to be all right!” There are groups and situations that require our earning our right of passage. We cannot expect to be accepted into some places without paying a price or showing that we belong there! Our captain belonged with us even though he didn’t have a Seiko watch purchased from a post exchange in Vietnam!
posted by Bruce | 9:38 PM
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