Snubby in Vietnam

[SF VET]

It began to dry out a bit, but the nights were still cold. I didn't have any assigned duty all this time, our hospital CO, a superb Family Practice physician, one of the finest military commanders I have ever known, with prior military experience, had just told me a month before, back at Riley, "...go, you are going with the Advance Party." By then I was a 20 year LTC, about half of that on active duty, and I was the only one in our hospital with prior wartime experience. So, I just did the things I thought necessary, without any official command authority.

While we had been back at Ft Riley, I was sent to a week's Chemical Warfare training. So, I was by default our Hospital's chemical officer. All of us were issued two MOPP suites, quilted charcoal impregnated tops and bottoms, and of course our decontamination kits and protective masks. No beards were allowed, as it is impossible to get an air-tight seal with a beard.

Later on, when our Hospital's chemical casualty team was selected , having had training back at Riley, I took them aside and told them I would be on the "Hot" or contaminated side of our Hot Line with them. I promised I would be by their side when this dangerous task was necessary.

more...

All the best and stay safe.... SF VET.

 

[SF VET]

We weren't defenseless all this time. As mentioned, infantry troops were dug in their wet miserable holes around us, and in case of an Iraqi breakthru, we also had armor around us, until they moved forward when the ground war began. As soon as our laundry was up and running, with big washers and dryers, which of course any hospital needs, our hospital commander had the surrounding wet and miserable infantry bring their clothing to us and our laundry team washed and dried their wet and sandy clothing, some of them had been in the same uniforms for over a month. We appreciated them, and felt sorry for them. Another example of our Commander's leadership.

Even though we were not yet read to take casualties, there was a sign out on Tap Line Road pointing to us as an EVAC hospital, and injured and sick military, US, British, French and even injured Saudi civilians began to show up. One of the more common injuries were stripped or amputated ring fingers. So as soon as new troops arrived, I told them to take their rings of and wear then on their dog tag chains, because when jumping off trucks or other equipment, it was easy to snag a ring and rip off the finger.

We were giving first aid, so to speak. There were lots of accidents on the nearby asphalt road, and our medics stabilized non-combatants for evacuation from bad wrecks on the road.

We could walk a KM to a Saudi airstrip, where there was a British unit, and also some French troops. We bartered for some of the French field rations, which were true gourmet, and they even had Perrier bottles to trade for. They had no interest in our MRE's. Mostly traded diesel and such.

Our MRE's were long fabric bags, and we would rip off one end, and use the long spoon to eat the main meal, after dumping out the TP and Chicklets and such. But the spoon was not long enough to reach to the bottom, so inevitably our grimy fingers got mud and sand in our meat or stew. It wasn't until the end of the war, that some bright soul had the idea of tearing off the Side of the bag, making it possible for our spoons to easily reach everything without getting sand in our meal. We were very innovative of necessity, but no one thought about simply turning our MRE bags other sides to eat from them.

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All the best, and stay safe.... SF VET

 

[fordson]

SF VET, I can relate to your DS/DS experience. I was “In-Country” from early Jan to late May. If I can draw a parallel, we did kind of similar work: I ran five in theater Aircraft Battle Damage Repair (ABDR) units for Navy/Marine aircraft (eventually serviced all Coalition aircraft). We did, essentially, aircraft damage triage: evaluate damage, repair what we safely could to get them operational, what we couldn’t repair, send them on to out-theater Depots for further action. Staff was military (about 2/3 reservist) engineers and military/civilian techs and mechanics. Our most primitive locations were at Al Jabal and a flat spot off TLR called Lonesome Dove. Dust and sand every where, sand storms, dirt, and then the oil well fires. My Sailors weren’t use to this primitive living , my Marines took it in stride and the civilian, well they were being paid double time so this was one big adventure. Below is a photo of my “HQ” at Jabal.

 

[SF VET]

This one is for the airmen on this thread. Hellfire guided missiles, and I think unguided 2.75 in rockets. This over at the nearby airbase, where the French troops had such exquisite field rations.

More and more of our EVAC were showing up, and promptly going right to work on putting our hospital up. A few weeks later, the whole rest of our personnel arrived late one afternoon, after riding in trucks for 300 miles from Dahran. By now, after a month in-country myself, I was pretty accustomed to living and working at the front. We led several hundred of them home into our compound, and the tired and cold men and women moved into their resident tents, usually about 15 or so per tent. With the CO's permission, knowing their families back home would want reassurance that their loved ones where now "safe" at our location, I went around to each tent, and told the new arrivals in each tent to select one from each tent (I wasn't about to do this for them), and to get the home phone numbers of their tentmates, and meet me in the motor pool, and I would take them to a field phone bank to call home, and relay to someone back home all the phone numbers of their tentmates to call.

So after dark, cold and wet, I led several trucks out into the desert some miles away to a field phone bank. The US had set up tents with banks of pay phones for calls. Troops were made to unload their weapons, and MP's let in a tent full, and in about 6 or 7 minutes, chased everyone out, and let in the next group.

This phone bank was in an area which had been cris-crossed by so many tracked and wheeled vehicles, that the mud was like soup, and boot high. I waited until our group was finished, and told the 25 + men and women to load up for the return trip. Some of the new female arrivals came up to me in the dark and asked where the porta-potties were. I told them there are no porta-potties in a war zone and just go on one side of our trucks, and the males on the other side. And so they did.

In a few minutes I led the trucks back to our compound.

Here is a pic later of a line of troops waiting their turn to "phone home." The time distance was about 12 hours or so.

Now with our full complement of personnel, things really got moving.

All the best, and stay safe.... SF VET

 

[SF VET]

this pic is later, a line of US patiently waiting to have a few minutes in a phone bank tent to call back home. Getting hot and dusty now.

All the best, and stay safe... SF VET

 

[SF VET]

Meanwhile, out on Tap Line Road, there was an endless train of an American Army moving westward in what became known later as the "Left Hook" offense. Here, trucks moving with air guards on the cabs. In WWII, such a defense could have thrown up a wall of fire and perhaps gotten lucky hits on strafing aircraft, but in modern times, enemy fighters would have been immune to any damage by attacking fast and from much higher. Probably did help moral of the truckers though,.

The first morning after our full complement of about 400 troops were finally with us, our CO had our only full formation, where he stated our mission and coming duty to our combat and support forces. Ever since our "call-up", I had had no real position, even when on the advance party. Our CO came up to me and told me I was now the CPS, or Chief of Professional Services. I was now in charge of all the physicians & PA's, with which numbered 29. These MD's and PA's came from all over the US and overseas medical commands, and were every kind of specialty. Immensely talented, many were Dept chiefs at their civilian and military hospitals, some had authored texts on their speciality. We had every specialty covered, ENT, Ophthomology, general and neurosurgery, general practitioners, orthopedics, and so forth.

I just over laid a civilian hospital structure over ours, with dept chairmen, and such things as peer review, and made it clear that no provider was to ever leave our compound without "checking out" their patients to another physician, so the nurses would always knew who was taking care of their patients.

Later the story of a physician we came to call "Ferret Face", who disobeyed my directive on this.

As our new physicians began to unpack and sort their supplied tools and such, they were amazed at the expensive and extensive army supplied medical and surgical equipment, often with comments like "...my hospital back home can't afford this equipment." Our ophthomologist's slit lamp was the best they made, for instance.

All the best, and stay safe. SF VET

 

[SF VET]

Our EVAC also of course had a nursing section, and other small sections under other officers, like Blood Bank, soon with over 400 units in their refrigerator, lab, pharmacy, radiology, a patient evacuation and coordination section, not to mention our own personnel section, mail, supply, motor pool, security, and other support sections.

An engineer unit had come by & dug some trenches, filled them with gravel, and stuck pipes in them for male urinals. In theory, urine, and 200+ plus males make for a lot of urine, would then percolate into the gravel. But with the water at ground level, that didn't really happen. We also had scattered around locally sourced "porta-potties", with half barrels of 55 gallon drums, daily pulled out and burned. Since at first we had to fully dress and lace up our boots, strap on our protective masks, to leave our tents in the night to walk in the mud to our male urninals, us males promptly just sat on our cot edge and emptied our bladders into an empty water bottle, and would just carry them out in the morning to dump into the urinal pipes.

The females promptly objected to this, as they still had to dress and go out in the dark and mud and rain to use the "porta-potties". Us males ignored their jealousy, but sometimes in the dark of the night, one could hear a guy in our tent gag and spit and cry out "I just drank from my urine bottle and not a water bottle!" It was important to remember at night in the dark which side of one's cot had a water bottle and which side a urine bottle. I was always careful, water right, urine left side of my cot.

Here the motly looking but superbly talented MD/PA section.

Next up, the story of Death Bed Evans, and the MD deserter.

All the best, and stay safe.... SF VET

 

[Retired W4]

I know you know this SF VET but the commonly called MOPP suit is technically CPOG's. MOPP=mission oriented protective posture, CPOG=chemical protective outer garment. Since I wasn't there I had to throw something out there.

Kidding aside, I was told that M-8 alarms were going off all over the place once the bunkers were being burned. The "no WMD's" talk reminded me of "agent orange is not harmful to your health". Wearing the M-17 was probably a good idea a lot of the time. At least there you didn't have to put up with the Soviet's yellow rain program. But then maybe you did in your travels earlier.

I was lucky (?) enough to attend two NBC Officers courses in the 80' when we were designated RDF-A. One at Bragg and the other at McClellen. Learned more than I wanted to know about that stuff.

The tire on that 64 looks like it's at the end of it's usefulness.

 

[SF VET]

we had big 5 thousand gallon bladders which were refilled by the same on flat bed trucks for our water needs, like wash and laundry and the like, but our drinking and surgical water came in 1.5 liter bottles, by the countless thousands. They dropped perfectly into the leg cargo pockets of our BDU's, and we walked around constantly drinking. When it got hot, we would drink gallons of water daily. Later when it was full summer, our tents would get up to 140 degrees or more, so no one stayed in our resident tents more than a moment.

An important correction, our EVAC was part of the Reserves, and NOT a NG unit. NG units were combat and combat support types, like armor and aviation, and engineer. The vast majority of the Army's war medical needs were in Reserve units, like our 410 EVAC.

When we were activated, we went to Ft. Riley KS, about a hundred miles west of Topeka. It was winter, and cold and windy, and we had training indoors and outdoors, and in our first month there, one of our troopers began to go on Sick Call every day, even twice a day, with on assortment of complaints. But every day, after an exam, he was returned to duty. As time passed, it was obvious he had no intention of going to war, and we started referring to him as "Death Bed Evans", (not his real name.)

I heard later, being gone a month, that when our hospital was lined up boarding a big plane to take the rest of our personnel to SA, he fell out of line, crying that he was having a heart attack. So our commander called the post Hospital, and had them come pick him up, and just left him behind at Riley. I don't know what ever became of Death Bed Evans, for all I know he has been drawing VA disability ever since. Stranger things have happened.

Here, a few days of drinking water.

Next the MD who deserted, and the Courts Martial.

All the best, and stay safe. SF VET

 

[SF VET]

Two Cowards

I need to correct something important. Our EVAC was a RESERVE unit, NOT NG! My error. Back then, the NG was war-fighters, and combat support units, like Combat Engineers, and aviation units. The vast majority of the army's medical units were Reserve units.

It took about two days at our home station in Topeka to load up, and then trip the 100 mies west to Ft Riley, incidentally where I had done my ROTC Summer camp in '68.

It was about TG, and already mid Kansas was cold and windy, and we stayed in WWII barracks, and had classroom and out door training and such.

When we were activated, reserve MD's were called up from around the Country, and assigned to our EVAC. One lady MD from some place I can't recall, refused to show up, and began giving interviews on TV and radio, about how the up-coming war was wrong, a War Crime, and worse. The media always has given dissidents air time, and she was on lots of TV and such.

But the thing was, Physicans in the Reserve, like me, were not expected to show up for a weekend every month, but were expected to continue their "training" and work at their own hospitals and such. We were well paid to be "on-call" for any contingency. So, in my opinion, she took the money, but refused her obligation when called upon.

She never did serve in any way, and upon our return 6-7 months later to Home Station for de-mobilization, I and our CO were sent to Ft Leonard Wood in MO, as prosecution witness at her General Courts Martial for a variety of UCMJ charges.

When I was on the stand, and one of her appointed army JAG defense attorneys asked me what she would have participated in, and if she would been in any danger, I answered, and then, her attorney not being aware of my prior service, dismissed me with a derogatory comment, so I told him to bring a Claymore mine in, and I would set it up on his desk, aim at him, and hold the "clicker" in my hand.

I don't recall what her eventual outcome was, probably some sort of less than honerable discharge or the like.

I was immensely proud and impressed by the magnificent effort of the rest of our troops, as they dove into the final completion of our hospital.

Our half of the compound had one entrance and one exit, but we had bunkers we manned along our berm. Here are our physicians and nurses filling sandbags, wearing breathing cover for the worsening dust and sand. And some of our scattered about "port-potties". All wearing M17 protective masks.

Several times, young female troopers asked me what to do if they were in a bunker and we were attacked. I told them to fire off two mags on full auto, to let any enemy know they were not to be trifled with, then stay low and switch to semi-auto and aimed fire and they would be OK.

For soldiers, there are always more sandbags to fill. Next, the story of "Ferret Face."

All the best, and stay safe. SF VET

 

[SF VET]

The two story wooden barracks at Riley were thrown up in '42 with mobilization for WWII, and were dangerous if they were to catch fire, and would burn to the ground in less than two minutes. Here, a pic of one (not one of ours) which was standing one minute, and ashes two minutes later.

All the best, and stay safe. SF VET

 

[Sistema1927]

Those old cantonment barracks and other buildings from WW2 sure did outlive their expected lifetimes. In the 1980's I had a couple of those under my care at Ft. Knox. After I had two wisdom teeth extracted I should have gone to my qtrs., but had some work to do. So, I did it, and then found a place in one of those old WW2 barracks buildings to catch some shut eye for a couple of hours. Later that day my NCOIC dropped by, and then chewed me out for not having posted a fire guard before I slept.

 

[SF VET]

A hospital is like a small city, and hence uses a LOT of water. Wash, laundry, other, and ours came in these big water bladders about daily, and the water was transferred to others on the around. As I mentioned, for drinking and surgical needs, we uses SA provided bottled water.

SA has huge de-salinization plants on their coast, and as soon as the Ground War began, Sadam H pumped great quantities of crude oil out into the gulf, and there were real fears it would contaminate the de-salinization plants, and hinder our clean water supplies. But they worked around it somehow.

I got a kick out of seeing these big flatbeds pull in, and then seeing small female US troopers climb down from the cabs to start pumping the water into our supply. bladders.

Always, always, the thrum of our big generators and the ever present whiff of diesel exhaust.

We knew that the Ground War was coming.

All the best, and stay safe.... SF VET

 

[SF VET]

The Story of Ferret Face

Shortly after the rest of our personnel arrived, I got a call to drive over to a Command HQ and pick up another physician assigned to our EVAC. Drove some miles and met a COL who was in private practice, and after having him toss his gear into my HUMVEE, we headed back. On the way, briefed him on what was happening, and his duty. He seemed to me to be shall we say "peculiar". A small, wizened, scrawny sort of fellow. When we arrived at our hospital, I assigned him to one of the physician residence tents. Within two days, the MD's in his tent were adamant that he be removed from their tent, as they just couldn't stand him.

So when I assigned him to another residence tent, those MD's also refused to allow him in. He was just one of those obnoxious people who you can't stand to be around. So put him in an unoccupied small GP Small tent, all to himself.

I had told him that he was never to leave our compound without checking out his patients, such as going on a phone run, or to one of the distant field PX's.

It wasn't long before some nurses came to me saying several of his patients were failing, and they couldn't find him anywhere. We were getting in Iraqi infants and children very ill and wounded. So I took over those cases, and when he returned told him never to do that again.

He had a strange habit of when upset or frustrated or angry, he would just spit and claw at his face, like some out of control child. So, our physician staff began to refer to him as "Ferret Face."

It wasn't long before he once again left our hospital without checking out his patients and I was livid when the nurses found me to take over care of his patients. When Ferret Face returned I told him to meet me in the Commander's tent. I sat down at a field desk and when he came up and tried to explain his actions, I told him to get his heels together and stand at attention, and keep his mouth shut. When he leaned forward and put his hands on m field desk, I told him to get his hands off my desk. I was then an LTC and him a Bird COL, but his rank did't matter.

I told him if he ever did that again, I would drive him out an into the desert so far it would take him two days to walk back.

I then drove back to the Command HQ site, and said I wanted him out of my hospital, but they told me he had been returned twice from other hospitals and I was stuck with him.

After that, I relieved him from any responsibilities, and he just kept to himself. Ferret Face had come to us from a large eastern city, and returned there upon our hospital's return stateside.

Ferret Face was just one of those strange people we meet in our lives. I suppose he was loved by his patients, but we couldn't stand him.

Next, the story of Romance In the Desert.

All the best, and Stay Safe.... SF VET

 

[SF VET]

The army had begun to set up field support units, one of those being big PX tents. It was a several hour drive in the back of one of our 5 tons, to one of these big tents, where we would line up and wait our turn to be allowed in for things like personal items, drinks, and I bought a Desert Storm patch which later I had sewn on the shoulder of my Pilot's Leather A2 Jacket, which probably long years later got me a traffic speeding warning instead of a ticket.

We could buy pints of ice cream, and one one trip, our truck load of troops, including me ate a whole pint, but it was too much, too rich, and we all felt pretty nauseated afterwards.

Always lines patiently waiting our turn for this and that.

All the best, and stay safe....SF VET

 

[F4phantom]

Always lines patiently waiting our turn for this and that.

All the best, and stay safe....SF VET

Sometime in late '67 a group of civilian Koreans put up a laundry on the base. Sure beat doing your wash in a bucket and hanging it on a line, especially in monsoon season. We were all standing in line in the rain to pick up our laundry when a Major cuts to the front of the line. He handed the guy his ticket. The fellow turned around and looked on a shelf and then came back and shrugged his shoulders and gave the ticket back to the Major. The Major made a big stink and made him look again. The fellow came back and shook his head. The Major turned and stormed off. When he was out of sight the young man reached down and held up a package of laundry. We all got a good chuckle out it. Funny the pilots never messed with the enlisted guys.

 

[SF VET]

F4 Phantom, I had posted this pic early in this thread, but here at Tan San Nhut in '71.

SF VET

 

[geokeg]

The F-4 in the picture is a "Transit" E model with the nose gun. The drag chute is still attached. I think the Star painted on it signifies a shoot down of Mig 19. Tan Son Nhut was home of the 460th Tactical Reconnaissance Wing, our F-4's were the RF-4C models. I was there 69-70.

 

[Retired W4]

We still had WW II wood barracks at Ft. Rucker in 69 and beyond. To add to the fire worries, they had coal furnaces. One poor WOC had to stand fire guard each night to stoke the furnace and make sure the place didn't ignite. I was married and lived off post.

 

[SF VET]

What Happens in the Desert Stays in the Desert

When nearly 400 men and women are sent far from home for months, living and working closely together, in a stressful time, relationships flounder and flourish. That old adage "absence makes the heart grow fonder" works both ways.

Personal relationships are highly frowned upon in any big organization, especially between two differing ranks or responsibilities. The Army absolutely does not tolerate such relationships. If the Army knows about them.

A physician, an active duty Maj, was assigned to our EVAC, he coming from Germany. I assigned him to our residence tent, but he was a loner sort of man, just one of those men who tend to keep to themselves, and are not likely to invited out for a beer "with the guys". Not that we HAD any beer or alcohol in SA.

He was accomplished in his surgical specialty. But soon after arrival, he began an open and very visible relationship with a young female enlisted trooper. She promptly shirked any work or duty, as she was "in a relationship with an Officer." Of course, this was cause for resentment among our other troops, and I told him to immediately cease his personal relatiohnslip with her. But he continued, so our hospital Commander told him it was over. Or else.

This female promptly began a more discreet relationship with a young Captain, which continued. Sad to say, this female was the only one of our EVAC who was killed in an accident.

Our Commander, of whom I will talk later, worked out a solution to such relationships, when he was made aware of it. In fact, within the first days of his arrival, he was away for two days doing an Article 32 investigation of another EVAC commander's relationship with that hospital's head nurse. I was not told of his decision as to UCMJ action in that case.

One solution in such cases, enacted several times in our EVAC, was to confront the two offenders, and state that one of them was being sent to another hospital for the duration of our deployment, and the two of the involved were to decide which one went, and which one stayed. We lost several troopers, and gained a few from other field hospitals. It was always he female that left, which is the way it always seems to be in these sorts of instances.

As it turned out, a surprising number of of our physicians, some of which I had known for years, even pheasant hunting with several back in Kansas, promptly left their wives upon our return Stateside. Several soon married nurses in our hospital. Me, I wrote my wife about every day, numbering my envelopes so when they arrived back home in batches, so she would read them in order.

Here, our hospital under construction, of course all carrying their protective masks.

All the best, and stay safe. SF VET