Hope this isn’t the end and there’s still more of your stories to come. I look forward to them.
Snubby in Vietnam
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CustomChevyGuy
Member
I'm still enjoying the stories and photos of your time in the service. Thank you for taking the time to share. Hope to see the thread continue as well!
I hope to continue to post pics and stories of my military experiences as long as the moderators permit.
Our EVAC was staffed with about 400 troops, about half male, half female. At times we had as many as perhaps a hundred others in our compound, visitors, patients, and passerby looking for a meal and a shower. We were our own little city, all we needed to be complete was pub or tavern.
But that many people produce a lot of xxxx. And there were no flush toilets, or sewers. We had to deal with not only our own waste, but that of our patients. Our CO decided that everyone from CPT on down would be on latrine duty. Scattered around our side of the compound were "four-holer's", screened, and with cut off 55 gal drums underneath. For urine, us males used pipes into gravel filled holes.
So our latrine crew pulled out the drums daily, and trucked them outside and used diesel to burn them out, which took all day, and of course, hopefully, the wind was in the right direction for this.
A hospital produces a lot of medical waste too, and I don't recall what we did with that, including amputated limbs and such. I am pretty sure we buried that somewhere outside our berm.
I was glad I was a field grade officer, and never had to pull latrine duty.
Our troops soon learned that privacy and hygiene were difficult to find in the desert. We wore our clothes day after day, as we had to do our own laundry, and sometimes the weather or time just made that difficult. I just don't remember when our laundry also did our own clothing. I didn't use that service. You would put your clothing into a mesh bag, and it was laundried that way to hopefully keep our clothing together. But sometimes the bags untied, and one physician got back his laundry all burnt up inside a charred mesh bag.
And nobody wore deodorant in the desert.
More to come. I think I will relate some of my non-wartime experiences. Next up, "Voices from the Grave."
All the best.... SF VET
Our EVAC was staffed with about 400 troops, about half male, half female. At times we had as many as perhaps a hundred others in our compound, visitors, patients, and passerby looking for a meal and a shower. We were our own little city, all we needed to be complete was pub or tavern.
But that many people produce a lot of xxxx. And there were no flush toilets, or sewers. We had to deal with not only our own waste, but that of our patients. Our CO decided that everyone from CPT on down would be on latrine duty. Scattered around our side of the compound were "four-holer's", screened, and with cut off 55 gal drums underneath. For urine, us males used pipes into gravel filled holes.
So our latrine crew pulled out the drums daily, and trucked them outside and used diesel to burn them out, which took all day, and of course, hopefully, the wind was in the right direction for this.
A hospital produces a lot of medical waste too, and I don't recall what we did with that, including amputated limbs and such. I am pretty sure we buried that somewhere outside our berm.
I was glad I was a field grade officer, and never had to pull latrine duty.
Our troops soon learned that privacy and hygiene were difficult to find in the desert. We wore our clothes day after day, as we had to do our own laundry, and sometimes the weather or time just made that difficult. I just don't remember when our laundry also did our own clothing. I didn't use that service. You would put your clothing into a mesh bag, and it was laundried that way to hopefully keep our clothing together. But sometimes the bags untied, and one physician got back his laundry all burnt up inside a charred mesh bag.
And nobody wore deodorant in the desert.
More to come. I think I will relate some of my non-wartime experiences. Next up, "Voices from the Grave."
All the best.... SF VET
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Had no idea you all had to “ dispose” of human waste as we did in Vietnam, figured there would have been some new chemical method. Burning xxxx was really bad detail reserved for punishment resulting in article 15, otherwise a papasan did it.
M E Morrison
Member
I hope to continue to post pics and stories of my military experiences as long as the moderators permit.
Our EVAC was staffed with about 400 troops, about half male, half female. At times we had as many as perhaps a hundred others in our compound, visitors, patients, and passerby looking for a meal and a shower. We were our own little city, all we needed to be complete was pub or tavern.
But that many people produce a lot of xxxx. And there were no flush toilets, or sewers. We had to deal with not only our own waste, but that of our patients. Our CO decided that everyone from CPT on down would be on latrine duty. Scattered around our side of the compound were "four-holer's", screened, and with cut off 55 gal drums underneath. For urine, us males used pipes into gravel filled holes.
So our latrine crew pulled out the drums daily, and trucked them outside and used diesel to burn them out, which took all day, and of course, hopefully, the wind was in the right direction for this.
A hospital produces a lot of medical waste too, and I don't recall what we did with that, including amputated limbs and such. I am pretty sure we buried that somewhere outside our berm.
I was glad I was a field grade officer, and never had to pull latrine duty.
Our troops soon learned that privacy and hygiene were difficult to find in the desert. We wore our clothes day after day, as we had to do our own laundry, and sometimes the weather or time just made that difficult. I just don't remember when our laundry also did our own clothing. I didn't use that service. You would put your clothing into a mesh bag, and it was laundried that way to hopefully keep our clothing together. But sometimes the bags untied, and one physician got back his laundry all burnt up inside a charred mesh bag.
And nobody wore deodorant in the desert.
More to come. I think I will relate some of my non-wartime experiences. Next up, "Voices from the Grave."
All the best.... SF VET
Shades of Viet Nam!!!
LoboGunLeather
US Veteran
That is my recollection as well. "Poop" detail (we actually used another word) was usually done by those serving "company punishment" (Article 15 infractions). A supervisor was always required to keep poorly motivated soldiers working at the assigned tasks, a job that usually fell to junior NCOs (like yours truly). The word "unpleasant" comes to mind, but is hardly adequate to describe the experience.
As often as not, at least one serious attitude problem was displayed, absolute refusals to comply with orders were common, and situations could easily rise to the level of mutiny. As the NCO in charge it was my job to get the job done, and excuses were not much help in the Army. I frequently had to report the worst cases, requiring hours of drafting statements for the commander's decision on action. By 1969-70 there was an active aversion to any form of serious disciplinary action. No one wanted court martial actions. Unit commanders were scrutinized on every aspect of unit performance, and disciplinary actions were part of that process.
Long story shortened a bit, it was nearly impossible to enforce any level of discipline or compliance with orders because the entire command structure refused to stand behind junior officers and NCOs. Almost all incidents, including some quite serious, were swept under the rug, no action ever taken. I know of a half-dozen assaults on NCOs and officers for which no official action resulted.
Article 15 action was generally limited to relatively minor infractions. A soldier might be offered some level of company punishment in lieu of facing a court martial, but the soldier would have to agree to accept the action in order for it to take effect. Company punishments might include confinement to quarters and unit area, some loss of pay, perhaps a one-grade demotion.
As more disciplinary problems arose those involved quickly learned that they could simply refuse to accept the Article 15. With the only remaining option being a special court martial (again, closely monitored as a means of assessing unit commanders), and the most common result was NOTHING.
Complaints of unfair disciplinary action, discrimination, just about anything a soldier might dream up frequently resulted in outside attention. Family complaints to congress members usually resulted in investigations (Inspector General or Criminal Investigation Division), and occasionally the news media got involved. None of those were especially good for unit commanders or senior staff.
From time to time units would be levied for troops to be moved to other duties or assignments. We quickly learned that in-country personnel transfers were highly likely to be someone else's problem children, so whenever possible we tried to get replacements who were just arriving in
Vietnam instead of accepting the dead wood (not always possible). Reassignments due to disciplinary problems were an ongoing problem.
the Vietnam war came close to destroying our military. Rampant drug use, insubordination (to often stupid and incomprehensible) orders, frank refusal to do any assigned task or mission, racial tension, it was all very real. I had heard about the low morale and fraggings and such happening in Vietnam, so when I decided to Volunteer from Germany, I was sure I did not want to try to lead or command in any US unit. So made sure I was going to be an Advisor, with MACV. I had little confidence I would be able to effectively command any American troops.
When I came back from my year in-country, I was assigned to Bragg, and walked over to the SF area and found my self a job, as an A Team Leader. About the only place in the army I know of that had dedicated soldiers. And they were, although in their Unconventional Way. The kind of men who often had civilian warrants out for them, but when one has their back against the wall, absolutely men you could count on to stand with you.
After the failed attempt to rescue our Tehran embassy hostages, with the debacle in the desert, a small group of our senior generals and admirals met and after agreeing that our military was now incapable of pulling off such a mission (and in my mind, it would have had no chance of success), that it had to change.
Terrible events like the USS Forestall fire, Fire Base Mary Ann, and the like had shown that it was time. The Navy came out with their "not on my watch" mantra, and the Army began to boot out undesirable troops, and I am sure the AF did likewise.
It took time, as the morass of the Vietnam war began to fade, for our military to slowly regain its position of power and protection.
I hope we don't drift back into correctness and timidity over battle readiness.
All the best... SF VET
When I came back from my year in-country, I was assigned to Bragg, and walked over to the SF area and found my self a job, as an A Team Leader. About the only place in the army I know of that had dedicated soldiers. And they were, although in their Unconventional Way. The kind of men who often had civilian warrants out for them, but when one has their back against the wall, absolutely men you could count on to stand with you.
After the failed attempt to rescue our Tehran embassy hostages, with the debacle in the desert, a small group of our senior generals and admirals met and after agreeing that our military was now incapable of pulling off such a mission (and in my mind, it would have had no chance of success), that it had to change.
Terrible events like the USS Forestall fire, Fire Base Mary Ann, and the like had shown that it was time. The Navy came out with their "not on my watch" mantra, and the Army began to boot out undesirable troops, and I am sure the AF did likewise.
It took time, as the morass of the Vietnam war began to fade, for our military to slowly regain its position of power and protection.
I hope we don't drift back into correctness and timidity over battle readiness.
All the best... SF VET
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Our small unit had similar problems, but in 72 article 15’s were given out almost weekly for all assorted infractions. Usually reduction in rank, confinement to company area and some reduction of pay. Had some “ funny” events as well. One guy got a “ dear john letter from girl friend so he got drunk and “ borrowed” a V-100. Drove around bunker line at full speed until he hit a berm behind a bunker and rolled it. Messed up turret and broke the 2 Mgs in turret. IIRC, he got reduction in pay and had to pay cost of repairing the 2 Mgs. Similar even happened with our contact team in Than Son Nhut. 2 friends were involved( went through AIT with 1), some holiday weekend??? they had a little to much to drink, got 1 of their M-151’s and decided to jump ammo bunkers. Heard they jumped several ok but they went wrong way on last, came down into the downward ramp. Guy in front seat went through windshield, driver broke his arm and 2 in the back were thrown about 30’. Lucky the 2 in back were “ limp” and didn’t get anything but scrapes and bruises. Forget what they told the NCOIC but nothing happened except having to go to 3rd Field Hospital. Not sure what they told them. Then there was a huge fight at our NCO club between 2 different units. 4 of us were sitting there “ enjoying” the LN band and drinking our 3.2 when we a common line of cursing followed by a table flying through the air landing on another table and its occupants. Chairs followed and it was clear a “ knock down drag out” had started. Told my buddies come on lets get the out of here. Got down on all fours and started for the front door. Passing the bar I looked up to see the MA standing there laughing his head off, kept going. Once outside we all went across the road to our company area , got a few cold San Miguels from out motor Sgt( best NCO I ever saw) and watched as the MPs arrived. Back door of club was off the ground about 10’-12’ with wooden steps going down to the urinal cut off 55 gal drums. Keep in mind that the content from urinals had run out about 6’-8’ from cut off drums. Some guy that had his DEROS orders was very drunk, he pulled the steps away from the back of club so those running out launched through the air and came down in, yes, the run off from the urinals. Those “ victims” were madder than the “ Wet Hen” and started fighting. Those of us across the street had a front row view of this event. IIRC there was a MP unit and an engineer unit involved.
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RVN memory
Since it appears the conversations have turned to the way of outhouses ( I hope temporarily) I have this memory that has never left me and feel compelled to offer it.
Arriving in Danang from Okinawa at 2:00 in the morning and being shuttled to the Transit Facility( kind of diagonally across from Freedom Hill but I`m sure any Marines entering RVN know where I`m talking about) to await orders to where ever I would be sent I had to avail myself of the facilities the next day and after assuming the position I began to read the graffiti on the wall and there in big bold letters was the quote "TODAY IS THE BEGINNING OF THE REST OF YOUR LIFE" !!! To that moment in time I had never seen or heard that saying but it slapped me in the face and seemed to stop my heart. It seemed as if the metallic clangs of the ending of a Jack Webb TV show were playing in the background. It`s kind of funny now and if any of the guys reading this put it there I can assure you it had the desired effect
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Since it appears the conversations have turned to the way of outhouses ( I hope temporarily) I have this memory that has never left me and feel compelled to offer it.
Arriving in Danang from Okinawa at 2:00 in the morning and being shuttled to the Transit Facility( kind of diagonally across from Freedom Hill but I`m sure any Marines entering RVN know where I`m talking about) to await orders to where ever I would be sent I had to avail myself of the facilities the next day and after assuming the position I began to read the graffiti on the wall and there in big bold letters was the quote "TODAY IS THE BEGINNING OF THE REST OF YOUR LIFE" !!! To that moment in time I had never seen or heard that saying but it slapped me in the face and seemed to stop my heart. It seemed as if the metallic clangs of the ending of a Jack Webb TV show were playing in the background. It`s kind of funny now and if any of the guys reading this put it there I can assure you it had the desired effect
.In any military unit, it is unstated, but surely some personnel are more "important", more vital, more "valuable' to a mission than others. I believe generally the commander is most "important", but his RTO is equally so. The soldier whose responsibility to ensuring the ammo does not run low. The cooks, the maintenance section, every body in some way is mission essential. Every one contributes (or in some cases, hinders) mission success.
Perhaps a better way is to consider the consequences of loosing a trooper. Looking at it this way then does not invalidate the human worth of any soldier.
History is replete with accounts of a replaceable individual being key to the success or even survival of a unit.
If I had had a misfortune in Desert Storm, our EVAC would have continued with another in my place, without loosing a step.
But two of our soldiers who were not replaceable were our two chaplains. Both were quiet, caring, listening men. A chaplain is vital to a unit large enough to have one assigned, or available. Military chaplains are careful to be non-denominational in their mission. They make themselves available to every person, in groups, or individually. And to the extent possible keep confidence and privacy in their interactions with sometimes troubled soldiers. I only know our two chaplains were always with our troops, listening, talking, and just being there. So where some of the the worlds religions began, they had a sunrise Easter Service. As many of our troops attended as possible as the sun abruptly rose over our berm, bathing us in warmth and light.
Two men so vital to our hospital's mission.
When I was in Vietnam, the first six months I would head out for my week or so with one SGT to some forward outpost. Our compound had a Catholic priest, who would offer communion to I and others. I did not know in that religion that the Priest and not the parishioner took the communion wine. So when our Priest poured his wine, and I chugged it down, he just said, OK, be blessed.
Made up about 250 158 grain 38 special rounds yesterday, will head over to a local range and shoot most of them later today in my new to me 28-2.
Perhaps a better way is to consider the consequences of loosing a trooper. Looking at it this way then does not invalidate the human worth of any soldier.
History is replete with accounts of a replaceable individual being key to the success or even survival of a unit.
If I had had a misfortune in Desert Storm, our EVAC would have continued with another in my place, without loosing a step.
But two of our soldiers who were not replaceable were our two chaplains. Both were quiet, caring, listening men. A chaplain is vital to a unit large enough to have one assigned, or available. Military chaplains are careful to be non-denominational in their mission. They make themselves available to every person, in groups, or individually. And to the extent possible keep confidence and privacy in their interactions with sometimes troubled soldiers. I only know our two chaplains were always with our troops, listening, talking, and just being there. So where some of the the worlds religions began, they had a sunrise Easter Service. As many of our troops attended as possible as the sun abruptly rose over our berm, bathing us in warmth and light.
Two men so vital to our hospital's mission.
When I was in Vietnam, the first six months I would head out for my week or so with one SGT to some forward outpost. Our compound had a Catholic priest, who would offer communion to I and others. I did not know in that religion that the Priest and not the parishioner took the communion wine. So when our Priest poured his wine, and I chugged it down, he just said, OK, be blessed.
Made up about 250 158 grain 38 special rounds yesterday, will head over to a local range and shoot most of them later today in my new to me 28-2.
ron_c
US Veteran
The location is Song Be, Viet Nam, late February 1968. The Tet Offensive was about a month along. One of the guys was put on Poop Burning Detail, which he thought was too good for such a lowly detail. Things got out of hand as he put the barrels a little too close to the structure and unfortunately there wasn't any way to put out the fire that ensued.
The second photo is the culprit (don't remember his name now). You can tell by the look on his face how sorry he felt and how bad he felt, by "accidentally" burning down the Officers Latrine as it is still smoking in the background.
We left in 2 days anyway, moving us (101st) up to Hue.
The second photo is the culprit (don't remember his name now). You can tell by the look on his face how sorry he felt and how bad he felt, by "accidentally" burning down the Officers Latrine as it is still smoking in the background.
We left in 2 days anyway, moving us (101st) up to Hue.
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Sorry, can not post the writings on the walls I saw………..
Sistema1927
US Veteran
Guessing that the picture shown in post #450 is of Easter Sunday.
When part of a small unit, officers and the senior EM have additional duties and responsibilities of a sometimes periodic or continuing nature. In my SF Company, I was also the S1 or personnel chief. But we also had duties assigned by a higher command, such as guard mount, and another being tasked to be on-call for for funeral duty.
On a hot and humid summer NC day at Bragg, I was told to gather up my team, and report for such duty. Another Captain in the group, whom I did not really know, had been killed in a motorcycle accident, and we were to attend his funeral with our rifles and provide a military "firing squad".
So we checked out several vehicles, and drove way out into very rural NC to a small Fundamentalist, Revival church, with a sand parking lot. The services were just getting started, and being a Lutheran, whose particular faith don't smile or show cheer in our church services, I was amazed at how much "participation" the congregation had in the service. The pastor, a small wirey chap, never stood still, and punctuated every sentence with "amen", the congregation responding with loud "halelujah's".
We stood at attention in the back of the small church, and at the conclusion of the service, when everyone filed out to proceed to the cemetery, I was standing at the door, when a five foot tall, 200 pound woman fainted. I caught her, and her scrawny husband said "...take her to the car..." So I carried her out to their car, and by the time I got there, I was soaked with sweat, and was barely holding the fainted woman down about my knees. We got her into the car, and then I and my team followed the casket to the back cemetery, a small area in a clearing in the pine trees.
The pastor never stopped "preaching", and the followers kept responding with praise and thanks. I had been warned before we left Bragg to not get too close to the grave. So we stayed back, respectfully, and the preacher kept preaching and moving all around the grave, and in a moment, he got too close, and in a flash had slipped and had fallen completely under the casket into the grave. But he never stopped "preaching" and no one seemed to pay any mind to his situation. I decided there was no need for him to be buried too, so carefully went over and grabbed his arms and pulled him out, he being covered with sand and pine needles.
And no one even seemed to notice, and he just kept on "preaching" and they all kept on hollering and singing and agreeing and replying. I dusted myself off, and at the conclusion of the service, my team fired off blank rounds in he traditional way.
We then drove back to Bragg, and turned in our rifles, and went on with our day.
Just one of those daily assignments that provided me with more life experiences.
all the best, SF VET
Next up, the day the widow wasn't actually married
On a hot and humid summer NC day at Bragg, I was told to gather up my team, and report for such duty. Another Captain in the group, whom I did not really know, had been killed in a motorcycle accident, and we were to attend his funeral with our rifles and provide a military "firing squad".
So we checked out several vehicles, and drove way out into very rural NC to a small Fundamentalist, Revival church, with a sand parking lot. The services were just getting started, and being a Lutheran, whose particular faith don't smile or show cheer in our church services, I was amazed at how much "participation" the congregation had in the service. The pastor, a small wirey chap, never stood still, and punctuated every sentence with "amen", the congregation responding with loud "halelujah's".
We stood at attention in the back of the small church, and at the conclusion of the service, when everyone filed out to proceed to the cemetery, I was standing at the door, when a five foot tall, 200 pound woman fainted. I caught her, and her scrawny husband said "...take her to the car..." So I carried her out to their car, and by the time I got there, I was soaked with sweat, and was barely holding the fainted woman down about my knees. We got her into the car, and then I and my team followed the casket to the back cemetery, a small area in a clearing in the pine trees.
The pastor never stopped "preaching", and the followers kept responding with praise and thanks. I had been warned before we left Bragg to not get too close to the grave. So we stayed back, respectfully, and the preacher kept preaching and moving all around the grave, and in a moment, he got too close, and in a flash had slipped and had fallen completely under the casket into the grave. But he never stopped "preaching" and no one seemed to pay any mind to his situation. I decided there was no need for him to be buried too, so carefully went over and grabbed his arms and pulled him out, he being covered with sand and pine needles.
And no one even seemed to notice, and he just kept on "preaching" and they all kept on hollering and singing and agreeing and replying. I dusted myself off, and at the conclusion of the service, my team fired off blank rounds in he traditional way.
We then drove back to Bragg, and turned in our rifles, and went on with our day.
Just one of those daily assignments that provided me with more life experiences.
all the best, SF VET
Next up, the day the widow wasn't actually married
Probably thought "what are they going to do , send me to Vietnam"
Sistema1927
US Veteran
Reminds me of a story that my NCOIC at Ft. Knox told. He was training at Ft. Bragg, and got to be buddies with a fellow soldier who lived in the area. One weekend, they both got a weekend pass, and he accompanied his buddy home.
The family treated him real well, fed him some good country cooking, etc. On Sunday, he joined them in church. Here is his description of how it ended:
"I was doing real well, until the snakes came out...."
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ron_c
US Veteran
For his punishment, he was given the choice, Article 15 with reduction in rank and fine, OR he was to be on Poop Burning Detail for the next month.
He took the Poop Burning Detail. What the Commanding Officer and First Sargent didn't know, he was to go back to the rear, in a week, for Out Processing, as his year was up (DEROS - Date Estimated Return From Overseas or "Tour of Duty").
By the time the move was made to Hue, 2 days later, and was settled in, he was already gone back to the rear.
LoboGunLeather
US Veteran
That probably describes the situation quite well. Or, it is possible that the Commanding Officer and First Sergeant knew quite well that the boy was leaving on DEROS the following week, and they were just completing the paperwork to demonstrate that they had dealt with a disciplinary problem in the accepted manner of the day.
Not very much escapes the attention of a good First Sergeant, including the opportunity to put a problem to bed with minimal fuss, muss, or mess. Problem child gone, plenty of time to deal with the next problem child.
LoboGunLeather
US Veteran
There were two typical responses from young soldiers when told to do something they decided not to do:
1. What are you gonna do, send me to Vietnam?
2. What are you gonna do, bend my dog tags?
Usually they were right. Very seldom would command staff stand behind NCOs or junior officers in such situations. No one wanted another reported disciplinary action on the unit's record.
Much easier to blame the NCO or junior officer for failure to motivate and supervise the troops than to deal with openly mutinous behavior requiring documentation and reporting to higher headquarters.
Babies leading babies, usually without adult supervision. Vietnam, 1969-71.
Lobo, that is what I think of when I see pictures and old film of Vietnam. Most of them were kids. I thank all of you for what you did.
The best was done with what there was to work with. I think about my level of maturity at that age and I am sure I would have been a handful. Add booze, easily accessible cheap potent drugs, not knowing what tomorrow could bring and you have a situation that is close to impossible to manage.
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