Wakeland Dr Mort 5 2016
Vietnam
U.S. Army (1970 – 1972)

I shall always remember the morning I left for the Army. Mom was a mess and stayed home. Dad drove me down to the Army recruiting station there in Oak Ridge. Was a very quiet and somber ride, except I do recall words of wisdom from Dad, telling me, “boy, keep your nose clean.� Other than when Mom passed away, a number of years later, that is the only time I ever saw my Dad with tears in his eyes. Vietnam was still going strong and he knew that. The tears, I think, came from Dad having served in WW II, in the Army, in both Europe and in the Pacific, he knew well what laid ahead of me.



First time on an airplane going from Knoxville, Tennessee to Fort Jackson, South Carolina. Reality check when we arrived at Fort Jackson, “you’re in the Army now.� Shots, running, tests, push-ups endlessly. My assignment, 11-Charlie. What in hell is 11-Charlie. We all knew 11-Bravo was infantry and an instant death sentence to be shipped to Vietnam. Soon found out 11-Charlie was the “brother� to 11-Bravo, mortars. However, you needed some smarts to figure out how to drop one of those puppies on a dime, miles away. 81mm and 4.2 inch.



One thing stands out in my mind about Fort Jackson. Several groups of trainees, as we were fondly known as, were in a large auditorium for something, don’t recall what. They played a recording from an RTO (Radio-Telephone-Operator) of an ambush of Army soldiers in Vietnam. His “mike� was stuck in the on position as he lay dying. You could hear the automatic rifles, the crackle of rounds and men screaming as they met their maker, as well as the “jibber jabber� of the North Vietnamese. That recording scared the holy hell out of me and all the others. After the recording stopped, you could have heard a pin drop in that auditorium. Before leaving they played “Bridge of Troubled Waters.� You could only hear the sound of boots on the pavement as all the groups left the auditorium, otherwise silence. What the hell have I gotten myself into?



Excelled in the infantry and was selected to enter Advanced Infantry Training at Fort Jackson. After graduation the Commanding General thought I was sergeant material and so I was off to NCO (Non-commissioned Officer) school in Ft. Benning Georgia where I leaned the intricacies of mortars, leadership, and basically, how to kill and not be killed.



Shortly thereafter and a stint at Fort Polk in Leesville, Louisiana as a training sergeant, I received my orders for Vietnam as I knew most likely I would. Fondly called Leesville, “Fleesville.�



So, “what the hell� like a lotta soldier boys, past, present, and futher for that matter, decided to get married. No clue if I would return or not after accepting the facts of real combat. Christy accepted. From Fort Polk drove back to Tennessee and several days before shipping off to Vietnam married my college sweetheart. The Gatlingburg honeymoon was short, 4 days, and sweet, before I left for San Francisco and a trip “across the pond.� Oh God, the number of shots we received in such a short time. I could not lift my arms.
Posted By: NS Administration - 05-13-2016
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