"Another Soul on the Lost Highway"
by Bill Bogart
bogart@glenmar.com
A long time ago in a land far away, there lived an 18 year old who just
graduated from high school. The year was 1967. And we all know what was
happening then. Well, not really to enthusiastic about doing another 4
years of school right then, he decided to join the Army. Mainly this
choice was thrust upon him by a letter from Uncle Sam. So, being the
smart, world-wise teenager that we all were at that age, he decided to
beat the draft and join. (smart huh?). Well some fast talking old fart
recruiter said, "son the army needs men like you". And of course being a teenager and being called a man by a dude in uniform must have light my candle. So took all the tests and was told I had a high aptitude. What was he going to tell me? I was a dumb-ass? So that may my head get even bigger. He said, "name your job son". I always wanted to be a cop. So I said I'd like to be an MP. No problem. Signed all the papers and took the physical in Chicago. A few weeks later, July 7, 1967 to be exact, I left for good old Ft. Leonardwood. Spent a very unpleasant 8 weeks in that stink hole waiting for my clearance. Well, as luck would have it, The Army didn't need MP's right then, they needed Morse intercept operators. So........., You guessed it. Look out Ft. Devens.
Got there in Sept I believe. Lived in "G" company if I remember right. Right across the street from the cleanest wood shop I've ever seen in my life. We had to go over on weekends sometime to clean the place. You couldn't find any d--n dirt. The E-8 who ran the shop was waiting to
retire and wouldn't let anyone use any of the equipment. 8 fun packed
hours of trying to locate some dirt. Went to Ditty-City everyday to try
to learn code. Remember I said the recruiter said I had a high aptitude?
You could probably teach monkeys morse code. It took me 8 months.
Almost got washed out and sent to the infantry for 4 years. Bullet to the
head time. Anyway , I just couldn't get 18 wpm. One day I got a bad
cold and went to the dispensary. They gave me GI-gin, also known as
Turpin hydrate I believe. About 40% alcohol. I got half lit on the
stuff and passed 18 wpm like a breeze. That was the trick. You just
couldn't give a shit. Well then did TTC and got captured. They tried to
make me talk by zapping my calves with the wires from a field phone.. I
talked alright. I screamed like hell. Got cramps in both legs and then
some wise Officer decided I'd had enough. Got stuck in a hooch with some
other "wounded" GI and "escaped" through the tunnel. Then got totally
lost the rest of the nite. Finally wandered in and graduated. Being the
good red-blooded America teenager I was, I volunteered for Vietnam.
Guess again. Got Thailand.
That was about the middle of June 68. While home on 2 weeks leave before
shipping to California, got pregnant and discharged. Nah, no such luck
being as I had the wrong equipment to bear children. It was in the
paper about this time or maybe earlier in the year. Might have been Tet.
My mother picked up the local paper and there on the front page was
"Udorn Thailand Air base hit by sappers". She shit. She said "I thought the war was in Vietnam?" I said "It is mom. That was probably nothing". Later I found out the weird truth.
Anyway on to Travis to await final boarding call. Oakland. What a dump. Some of us decided to see the sights and got busted for walking on the freeway. They actually sent me a fine in Thailand of 35 bucks. Can you believe that b--ls--t? Got to Bangkok and spent 5 days there getting "acclimated", no ,laid comes later.Forgot to mention I was still a 18 year old virgin male. Then went up country to Udorn. Copied dits, got drunk, smoked dope, copied more dits,got drunker, smoked more dope. If you combined the three made for some interesting sounds and sights. Finally got laid after about a couple of months. Drunk of course. Think I went off to quick, she said, " When you want pompom GI?" I was already done. Casanova I wasn't. Back to the story of the sapper attack.
I guess from what I heard that some drunk ThaiComs tried to blow up some planes up at the Air base. Most missed. But Ramasan went on ALERT. Weapons were locked in the orderly room and only one NCO on post. All the rest and officers were down town. Ammo was in the ammo dump. Now this is the way I heard it. Some of you guys thatwere there then can correct me. Whoever was in charge put everybodybetween the fences IN FRONT OF THE STROBE LIGHTS. How quaint. Anyway I guess nothing happened there. Typical clusterf--k.
Knew lots of guys but forgot most. Names like Gaylen Fox from Kansas had
been a barber. Phil (filthy Phil) Carter. Kenny Hoyt from Arkansas I
think. Skip Hancock from my home state of Indiana. He was in ARDF. A
guy named Bakse or something who tried to use all the drugs in southeast
asia. A guy named Terry Jackson from California. Ron Turner from Alabama.
More, but the memory is going along with the libido. Remember pulling
guard duty one nite in one of the towers. Heard something down below.
They or it wouldn't respond to my query. Called in and they came out and
shot it. It was a d--n tiger. Glad he hadn't been taught how to climb
stairs. Had to guard the site excavation for the new dish antenna.
"Whatcha doing?
" Just guarding this dirt!"
I Remember going downtown early on with a SP/5 named Dale Speakman. We went to some Thai girls Birthday party. Now they know how to throw birthday parties. We got wasted and I got sick in the back of the taxi coming back to post. Totally refinished the guys rear fender panels. Then passed out. Woke up at the gate with Speakman hauling me in minus my brand new Seiko watch. Guess the guy figured he sell it for a new paint job. Ended up shacking up the last year over there on unofficial advise from the doc. I Had caught clap 3 times and he said I may got home minus a few body parts if I didn't be careful. I never have and never will use condoms. Once I got her shots of tetracycline and myself downtown.
we had a rather pleasant relationship. I worked, she cooked, I screwed, she pretended to enjoy it. What more can you ask. There might have been one or two times when I woke up after a Mekong whiskey niter with a big chubby that she actually did enjoy it. I always did. You see I was still just a young stud. Well as all good things do, my tour started drawing to a close in Jan 71. Had to get my sh--t together to ETS .
Well, as usual Mr. Stud wasn't that great at finances back then and I needed some extra cash to pay some bills. Some of the guys pitched in and I paid my bills. Got a partial pay at the Air base before leaving. When processing out at Travis this E-4 clerk ask me, with a rather weird look on his face. "Did you receive any partial pay before leaving?" I thought a second. I Said,
"Why no, I'm broke".
End of discussion.
Got the whole months pay and the 60 days leave coming also. I was rich. $2500 bucks. Look out world, here I come. Iv'e always worried about that seeing as how I have lived about 60 miles from the Ft. Ben Harrison ,the finance center in Indianapolis ,for the last 30 years.
I remember coming back to the "world" in uniform and being ridiculed. That left a bad taste in my mouth for years to come. Still ended up joining the reserves in 1980 after Carter almost ruined the military. The man had good intentions, but the rest of the world isn't as nice as we try to be. In a petroleum supply unit for about 8 years. Made platoon Sgt E-6.Was up for 1sgt but decided babysitting wasnt my forte.
Been married for 25 years now, to the same lady no less. Got 2 children. Daughter graduates from college in May with a degree in Psychology. Son is 19 and just as lost as his old man was at that age. Must be some deficiency in the mail hormone.
Wouldn't trade any of that last 30 years since then.Even the beer consumption problem I've had under control for about 10
years now. Lucky to take a drink once a year now. Used to be once an
hour. Not bad for an ex-ditty bopper. Not really an ex either. As I hold
a general class Amatuer license. Call of KA9CWK. A friend said that's a
neat call. KA9 CWKing. ARRRGHH. enjoy the hobbie though, especially
building junk. Work in manufacturing and make pretty good money. Wife is
going back to college to get her degree then maybe I can retire early and
screw off.
Fat chance.
Well, guess that's about the story for this ditty-bopper. Lifes been
pretty good all things considered. Still pissed off about Nam. But
guess I'll go to my grave with that one. Maybe old Janey Fonda will beat
me there, Bitch.
Now for the disclaimers: If some of those named in here are offended
because their name is mentioned, Tough S--t. If some are offended by the
language Tough S--t. If the government thinks Iv'e given away any trade
secrets, They know where I live and can KMA. I gave 14 years and all my
brown hair to this country. They don't like it they can eat Poontang.
Here's to the 58000 plus who can't be here to say KMA.
73, Bt 1226
Bill BogartUSASA (retired) Somewhere in the midwest.
bogart@glenmar.comt