Post by Ozarks Tom on Nov 3, 2015 23:50:10 GMT
Three teenage boys, sitting in a Minnesota basement, listening to one of their older brothers. The brother, home on leave from the Army in Germany, is regaling the group with tales of frauleins, beer halls, driving a tank, and sundry other things 17 year old boys could only dream of. The thoughts were nearly as intoxicating as the homemade cherry wine they’re drinking. Within two or three more swallows, a pact is made, they’re joining the Army! (note; Minnesota homemade wine in renowned for its potency)
At the recruiting station the boys are greeted like old friends, exceptions are made for lack of diplomas, and minor convictions, but one boy confesses his parents won’t sign the waiver. Well, if two join together on the “buddy plan”, they’re guaranteed to be assigned together through basic training, so “buddies” it is. One is promised he can be an electronics tech, while the other wants to drive tanks like his brother. (note; for one there was a huge going away party, he’s told later)
A week later at the induction station, during the physical exam, it’s discovered the would-be electronics tech is stone cold color blind. Since splicing green wires to brown wires in most instances doesn’t complete a circuit, goodbye future skilled employment plans. Well, that’s okay, they’ll find something else for him to do. (note; Can you imagine the humiliation in finding out that for 17 years you’ve been arguing with people about colors, and been wrong?)
Upon arrival at Ft Leonard Wood the buddies are tested for intelligence, scholastic achievement, personality, and the ability to copy Morse code. After testing they’re assigned to their training units, different ones. So long buddy! (note; if you believe military recruiters, I’ve got a gentle ram sheep for sale)
After 8 eventful, and miserable weeks, training schools are assigned. It seems one of the buddies has a previously unknown ability to copy Morse code, and is assigned to radio school. The other buddy seems to have no known or unknown abilities, and is assigned to the infantry. (note; if you’re ever given a Morse code test, fail it)
It was widely suspected among the trainees that the local population make their living sharpening rocks for the Army. This theory was proven false 40 years later when one of the buddies dug his first garden in the Missouri Ozarks, the rocks are already sharp.
Four weeks into radio school, learning and copying code for 4 hours a day, it’s time for the test. Copy 15 words per minute and pass, copy 14 words per minute and go to pole climber’s school. He’s copying 13 wpm on his best day. Totally depressed, but still up for a few beers, he goes to town with friends and is grossly over-served. Bluntly, throw him in the snowbank drunk. The next morning, still feeling the effects of the previous night’s bout with the King of Beers, he copies 18 wpm.
The training battalion is in formation on the parade field, awaiting the announcement of orders to their permanent units. As the First Sergeant calls off the names alphabetically, he finally calls of our buddy’s name, almost. What he calls off instead is (insert surname), Thomas J – AP0 652 (civilian status, embassy duty Rome). Then (insert surname), Thomas W – APO 8 (DMZ Korea)!! (why couldn’t his grandfather’s name been Al instead of Walter?)
As luck would have it (luck had nothing to do with it, he bribed a guy at records to pull his security clearance until the group for Korea had shipped), he got new orders for the 11th Air Assault Division at Ft Benning, GA. During orientation his first day there, it was explained everyone in the Division would learn to rappel first from towers, then from helicopters. That evening at chow, the mess hall was abuzz with the news of 2 guys killed that day when their D ring broke loose from the helicopter, turning them into human pancakes. (note; never make a pact while drinking Minnesota wine)
Assigned to his Signal Battalion, the next year is spent pretending to work, while the Army pretends to pay him. A couple promotions, war games, training on obsolete equipment, and jump school. (note; if you’re making $122 per month, and someone offers you another $55 per month to jump out of airplanes, you’re crazy if you do and crazy if you don’t. With those options, take the money)
Then the big announcement. The entire Division is formed on the parade field to witness the changing of the colors. The 11th Air Assault Division is no longer, they are now the 1st Cavalry Division, Air Mobile. They didn’t have to wait long for the other shoe to drop, those spiffy new colors were going to Viet Nam.
After weeks of packing, and special training on towers climbing cargo nets in full gear including weapons (that’s how troops get off ships) in the Georgia heat, they’re ready to embark. With typical Army reasoning – you’re going to the far East? Well then, you need to leave from the East Coast! – so 28 days later they arrive in the South China Sea, specifically Quinon harbor. As everyone is fully geared, and carrying their duffle bags for leaving the ship, the merchant marines hoist an aluminum stairway over the side and everyone walks down. (note; cargo nets were done away with 20 years before)
What happened next is another story, for another time, maybe.
At the recruiting station the boys are greeted like old friends, exceptions are made for lack of diplomas, and minor convictions, but one boy confesses his parents won’t sign the waiver. Well, if two join together on the “buddy plan”, they’re guaranteed to be assigned together through basic training, so “buddies” it is. One is promised he can be an electronics tech, while the other wants to drive tanks like his brother. (note; for one there was a huge going away party, he’s told later)
A week later at the induction station, during the physical exam, it’s discovered the would-be electronics tech is stone cold color blind. Since splicing green wires to brown wires in most instances doesn’t complete a circuit, goodbye future skilled employment plans. Well, that’s okay, they’ll find something else for him to do. (note; Can you imagine the humiliation in finding out that for 17 years you’ve been arguing with people about colors, and been wrong?)
Upon arrival at Ft Leonard Wood the buddies are tested for intelligence, scholastic achievement, personality, and the ability to copy Morse code. After testing they’re assigned to their training units, different ones. So long buddy! (note; if you believe military recruiters, I’ve got a gentle ram sheep for sale)
After 8 eventful, and miserable weeks, training schools are assigned. It seems one of the buddies has a previously unknown ability to copy Morse code, and is assigned to radio school. The other buddy seems to have no known or unknown abilities, and is assigned to the infantry. (note; if you’re ever given a Morse code test, fail it)
It was widely suspected among the trainees that the local population make their living sharpening rocks for the Army. This theory was proven false 40 years later when one of the buddies dug his first garden in the Missouri Ozarks, the rocks are already sharp.
Four weeks into radio school, learning and copying code for 4 hours a day, it’s time for the test. Copy 15 words per minute and pass, copy 14 words per minute and go to pole climber’s school. He’s copying 13 wpm on his best day. Totally depressed, but still up for a few beers, he goes to town with friends and is grossly over-served. Bluntly, throw him in the snowbank drunk. The next morning, still feeling the effects of the previous night’s bout with the King of Beers, he copies 18 wpm.
The training battalion is in formation on the parade field, awaiting the announcement of orders to their permanent units. As the First Sergeant calls off the names alphabetically, he finally calls of our buddy’s name, almost. What he calls off instead is (insert surname), Thomas J – AP0 652 (civilian status, embassy duty Rome). Then (insert surname), Thomas W – APO 8 (DMZ Korea)!! (why couldn’t his grandfather’s name been Al instead of Walter?)
As luck would have it (luck had nothing to do with it, he bribed a guy at records to pull his security clearance until the group for Korea had shipped), he got new orders for the 11th Air Assault Division at Ft Benning, GA. During orientation his first day there, it was explained everyone in the Division would learn to rappel first from towers, then from helicopters. That evening at chow, the mess hall was abuzz with the news of 2 guys killed that day when their D ring broke loose from the helicopter, turning them into human pancakes. (note; never make a pact while drinking Minnesota wine)
Assigned to his Signal Battalion, the next year is spent pretending to work, while the Army pretends to pay him. A couple promotions, war games, training on obsolete equipment, and jump school. (note; if you’re making $122 per month, and someone offers you another $55 per month to jump out of airplanes, you’re crazy if you do and crazy if you don’t. With those options, take the money)
Then the big announcement. The entire Division is formed on the parade field to witness the changing of the colors. The 11th Air Assault Division is no longer, they are now the 1st Cavalry Division, Air Mobile. They didn’t have to wait long for the other shoe to drop, those spiffy new colors were going to Viet Nam.
After weeks of packing, and special training on towers climbing cargo nets in full gear including weapons (that’s how troops get off ships) in the Georgia heat, they’re ready to embark. With typical Army reasoning – you’re going to the far East? Well then, you need to leave from the East Coast! – so 28 days later they arrive in the South China Sea, specifically Quinon harbor. As everyone is fully geared, and carrying their duffle bags for leaving the ship, the merchant marines hoist an aluminum stairway over the side and everyone walks down. (note; cargo nets were done away with 20 years before)
What happened next is another story, for another time, maybe.
