Don't Play With Things That Go Boom: Recent Episodes
Clint Morey
I knew I was in a war zone — half a world away from where I grew up — but life on the Da Nang base was good. Surprisingly good.
And then …
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When people ask me what it was like in Vietnam, I often hesitate to answer. Usually, they are expecting horror stories of death and destruction.
I had friends who did have experiences like that, but that wasn’t my experience.
My time in Vietnam, especially in Danang, was one of the best times in my life for personal growth.
I was learning a number of medical skills that allowed me to help people. I loved helping people.
I was able to read many books which were provided free by the Army.
I was taking college level correspondence courses through USAFI, the United States Armed Forces Institute. So, I was earning college credit even while I was in Vietnam.
But most importantly, I grew in my relationship with the Lord.
I was in the Word — that’s just another way of saying I read the Bible — every day. I memorized large portions of Scripture and would go through those scriptures in my head even at night in my bed.
And I had the best times in prayer that I had ever known. When I prayed, I knew I was in God’s presence, loving Him and listening to Him.
It was an incredible time of growth.
But …
But during one of those special times of prayer … well, I felt a very clear instruction from the Lord. It was almost an audible voice.
I said almost.
The instruction was:
“Start a Bible Study”
What?
A Bible Study?
Now that was ridiculous. I was in a war zone in Vietnam. This was the Army. You don’t just start a Bible study in the Army while serving in a war in Vietnam.
It was silly. Surely it was a weird thought that just crossed my mind.
It had to be a weird thought because God would know that the Army wouldn’t allow anyone to start a Bible study in Vietnam.
It was a crazy idea.
I went to sleep and put the thought out of my mind … until the next day.
Bouncing Off the Ceiling
After my work at the clinic, I went back to my room, read the Word, and began to pray.
But something was very different.
My prayer time wasn’t like anything I had experienced up to this point.
Instead of a great time of talking to and listening to God … there was nothing.
I mean nothing.
It’s like my prayers were just words bouncing off the ceiling. It was an awful feeling.
That feeling went on for a couple of days until I couldn’t take it anymore.
I knew I was not doing what God had told me to do, so I knew I had to take care of that.
I tried to explain to God that the Army wouldn’t allow me to start a Bible study, but I told Him that I would go ask someone in authority if I could.
I wasn’t sure who I should ask. I didn’t think the Commanding Officer of the 3/82 Artillery would be a good option.
There was a good chance he might laugh or yell at me.
But I had to ask someone.
Prayers bouncing off the ceiling were not an option. I missed my time with God. I wanted those times back.
So, who should I ask?
The Chaplain
As I thought about it, I realized the chaplain might be a good option.
It didn’t matter if he told me I couldn’t do it, which he probably would, I figured at least he wouldn’t laugh or yell at me.
I mean he was a chaplain. Chaplains didn’t laugh or yell at people who asked for permission to hold a Bible Study. At least I hoped they didn’t.
I didn’t know how to contact the chaplain, but I figured he must have a service somewhere on base.
All I had to do was find out when and where such a service was being held, attend it, and when it was over ask the chaplain about the Bible Study.
Then I would be off the hook with God.
The Service
The service was held at a building not far from our headquarters on a Sunday.
So, I went to church, or chapel, or whatever the Army called it.
There were about 20 men in attendance. I recognized a couple of soldiers from the 3/82 Artillery. I don’t remember anything the chaplain said. I assume we must have sung some hymns, and the chaplain must have preached, but my mind was focused on how I would phrase the question to the chaplain.
When the service was over, everyone lined up to shake hands with the chaplain as they left.
I positioned myself at the end of the line. I would be the last one out so no one could listen to my question.
I reminded God that I was being obedient and was looking forward to restoring our daily time of fellowship.
The Sergeant
Soldiers thanked the chaplain for the service and left. Everyone seemed happy. Finally, the line was almost done.
The only one in front of me now was our mess sergeant … that’s what we called the guy who handled the food services for our unit. He was a good guy.
I was ready with my question as soon as the sergeant left.
But the sergeant didn’t just shake the chaplain’s hand and leave. Instead, he asked the chaplain a question.
“Chaplain,” he said, “are there any Bible Studies I can attend?”
I couldn’t believe what I just heard.
The chaplain started to say there weren’t any he was aware of, but I interrupted him.
I explained I was going to ask if we could have a Bible Study in our unit. The chaplain smiled and encouraged the two of us to get one going right away.
We began a Bible Study in our unit that week.
LESSONS FROM MY DAYS IN OLIVE DRAB
Lesson 1: God does know how the Army works. He knows how everything works. We need to remember that in whatever condition we find ourselves in.
Lesson 2: I found out later that it would have been fine with the Army if we held a Bible Study in Vietnam. We didn’t even have to ask permission from anyone to do so. But God was very gracious to me to have the sergeant ask the chaplain right in front of me that day.
Lesson 3: Do what God tells you to do when He tells you to do it.
A BLESSING
Before I go, I’d like to share a blessing with you from the Old Testament.
“May the Lord bless and protect you; may the Lord’s face radiate with joy because of you; may he be gracious to you, show you his favor, and give you his peace.”Numbers 6:24-26 (The Living Bible)
Until next time … be the reason someone smiles today
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Being the official ambulance driver for the 3/82 Artillery, I was responsible for maintaining the vehicle and making sure it was in working order.
But it also gave me another job.
Because I controlled the vehicle, I was the designated gopher, sent to pick up and deliver things around the base and in the city of DaNang.
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The young Vietnamese woman lay on the treatment table in our small clinic in DaNang. I studied her bleeding foot, surgical needle in hand, my heart pounding.
Just a few weeks earlier, I’d never even held such a needle.
Now I was going to be responsible for stitching up her wound.
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After the Marines left, we turned their base into our own, setting up an aid station to care for our soldiers. From organizing the pharmacy to handling a fainting soldier during a blood draw, to a long day of conducting malaria tests in the field, these anecdotes capture the humor, challenges, and lessons of military life.
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I absolutely loved working at the 91st Evacuation Hospital. I learned so much and felt I had acquired some useful skills that I would be able to use in helping others, but I have to admit I was looking forward to returning home.
Home being Hawk Hill.
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In "Returning to Hawk Hill," I recount my experience as a medic during a MEDCAP mission in Vietnam, where an unexpected land mine explosion tested our skills and resolve. This article highlights the life-saving efforts we provided to local villagers and the lessons learned about compassion, courage, and faith in the midst of chaos.
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This story begins on a firebase. Although the enemy was always "out there" somewhere, the firebase was generally a safe place.
Generally, but not always.
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Now it was time for me to move on to my next stage of training. I was moved over to Pre-Op to learn as much as I could in that setting.
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Following my experiences in the Division Psychiatrist’s Office and a hospital ward, my next assignment was to work in the emergency room — the ER — at the 91st Evacuation Hospital. It was a challenging yet fascinating assignment
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From the stark contrast of my new, lusurious living quarters to the unexpected challenges of nocturnal jungle bugs, each moment was a step into the exciting unknown as I tried to learn what was needed to become a medic.
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Sitting in the captain’s office, I was surprised how calm and relaxed I was.
I knew the captain wasn’t going to tell me I would be given conscientious objector status. In the paperwork I filled out I made a point of saying I was not a conscientious objector.
Which meant something else would happen to me.
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PODCAST “Don’t Play With Things That Go Boom”
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Episode 18 “Not An Option”
transcript
The Decision
I made the decision.
Killing innocent civilians intentionally, even in a time of war, was murder. Murder was not an option for a Christian.
The problem was … what do I do next?
Do I write a letter? Do I sit down and refuse to do my job? Do I try to hide?
I figured I needed to tell the guy in charge.
On the firebase, that was our Executive Officer, the 1st Lieutenant
But what if he wasn’t kind and reaffirming?
What’s going to happen to me?
I remembered how the South Korean troops were treated on a different firebase, but I was pretty confident that wouldn’t happen to me. I couldn’t imagine being called before the rest of the soldiers in our unit and beaten to a bloody pulp to show the officer’s displeasure of my decision.
I also was pretty sure some officer wasn’t going to come over and shoot me for not obeying an order.
Those were the easy options to set off to the side.
But there could still be some really unpleasant consequences.
I could be given a dishonorable discharge and sent home in disgrace. That wasn’t a pleasant thought, but I didn’t think that would happen. If soldiers were allowed to leave the battlefield just by saying “I quit,” the American Army in Vietnam wouldn’t last very long.
I thought it was more likely that I would be put on trial, courts martialed, and sentenced to prison. That seemed like the most likely option for me.
In fact, I remembered an old newspaper story I read that occurred during World War I. When war was declared, an Army officer, a captain I believe, submitted his resignation to the Army. He indicated that his family was from Germany and if he went to Europe to fight, he might be trying to kill his own family members, and he didn’t feel he could do that.
I felt sorry for the guy, but the court apparently didn’t. They sentenced him to 20 years in prison.
That was definitely an unpleasant result for him, but one that I thought was also a real possibility for me.
I had asked God for wisdom about what I should do, and believe He gave me an answer.
What would happen to me as a result of saying I was not going to continue shooting at unarmed civilians was not in my control.
The 1st Lieutenant
I walked over to the bunker that housed the command center for our battery. The man in charge was the 1st Lieutenant. Our Captain was actually in charge, but he seldom came out to the firebase, so I needed to talk to the next in command — our Executive Officer. The 1st Lieutenant.
I did not expect it to be a pleasant meeting.
I politely asked to speak with him, and he was very friendly and told me to go ahead. I explained what had been happening regarding some of our fire missions being directed at civilian farmers.
He didn’t respond, so I continued. I told him that, as a Christian, I could not keep doing my job at the fire control center if we were firing on civilians.
I don’t think this particular situation was covered when he went through Officer’s Candidate School, because he didn’t respond right away.
So, I explained again, as clearly as I could, that I would no longer take part in firing at unarmed civilians.
The 1st Lieutenant didn’t yell at me. He didn’t throw anything at me. He didn’t try to talk me out of my decision.
He told me simply to get all my stuff together and I would be sent back on the next chopper to Hawk Hill, where the captain would deal with me.
It didn’t take long to pack. Everything went into my duffle bag, and I waited for the next helicopter to arrive on the hill.
So far, things went much better than I had expected.
The Captain
I arrived on Hawk Hill, took my duffle bag to the area where the cots were for soldiers coming and going. Then I headed to the headquarters building for the 3/82 Artillery.
It was a nice building. Having spent a few months on firebases, it didn’t take much to consider a building “nice.” There was a main reception area, manned by a sergeant at a desk. I introduced myself and the sergeant knew about me and said the captain would see me shortly.
I waited to be called into the captain’s office.
The captain also had a “nice” office. The Army has a way for an enlisted man to introduce himself to an officer, and I made sure I did it correctly. The captain motioned for me to sit down and asked me to explain what was going on.
I went through the explanation again, describing what had happened and how, as a Christian, I could not continue to fire artillery shells on civilians. I would not continue to fire on civilians.
The captain had a different approach than the 1st Lieutenant.
He didn’t throw anything at me, but he did raise his voice and tried to make his point very clearly … bordering on the line of yelling. He made it clear that not doing my job was not an option for me.
If I refused to do my assigned duties, he explained, I would suffer very severe consequences. Those consequences could include courts martial or even prison.
I said I understood and tried to explain clearly again what the Bible told me about not killing others. I included a little history lesson of people who used the excuse they were just following orders when they were being tried for war crimes.
I don’t know if he didn’t like my Bible lesson or my History lesson or both.
He was a very unhappy commanding officer, and he wanted me to know that.
He told me I would have to fill out the paperwork requesting Conscience Objector status, but he said there was no way I would get it. He explained that the Arny never give out the CO designation to someone who is in the service. The CO status has to be claimed before the person enters the Army.
I said I understood, but I was not asking to become a conscientious objector. I had volunteered for the draft. I believed in our fight. I was not a conscientious objector. I just couldn’t kill innocent civilians.
That didn’t make him happy. He told me to leave his office and see the sergeant.
I left. And yes, there is an Army way to leave a superior officer, and I made a point of doing it correctly.
Am I a Conscientious Objector???
The sergeant was waiting for me.
He handed me a manual that explained how to submit the Conscience Objector request. Not that it mattered, I told him that I was not a conscience objector. He said he didn’t care and told me to do what the manual said.
I said I would.
Then he told me to turn in my weapon.
What?
I’m in a war zone. I need my M-16.
He said conscience objectors don’t carry M-16’s.
I started to explain that I wasn’t a … but I realized it wouldn’t make any difference, so I just said I would.
I turned in my rifle, and now I was without a weapon in Vietnam.
Writing the Request
I read through the Army manual on how to fill out the conscientious objector request and started writing.
There were no word processors in existence back then, and I didn’t even have access to a typewriter.
Everything was handwritten, so I wrote and rewrote, and rewrote, until I got it just right.
I described in detail what I had seen, trying to be as accurate as possible. I explained that I thought the actions I had seen were war crimes and even went into the history of war crimes.
I explained my Christian position, giving verses from the Bible to back up what I was saying.
Finally, I wrote a nice clean copy and took it to the sergeant in the captain’s office.
Is there something wrong with me?
I thought that was it, but I was wrong.
Part of the process of requesting to become a conscientious objector included being interviewed by some experts. The experts were then to submit reports that would be added to my request.
I was sent to a medical doctor and had a brief interview. I’m not sure what the purpose of that interview was, but the doctor was very nice, and the meeting didn’t take long.
Then I was sent to the chaplain. I assume this was to evaluate if I had a real “religious” concern. I shared with the chaplain what I believed the Bible taught. He didn’t try to talk me out of anything but just listened. He was also a pleasant man.
Then I was loaded on a truck and driven to Chu Lai to be interviewed by the Division Psychiatrist. I assume that was to determine if I was crazy. I don’t remember what we actually talked about, but I do remember it also was a pleasant interview.
Temporary Duty Again
I returned to Hawk Hill and reported to the sergeant.
He told me the information would be submitted and I would be told when a decision was made.
In the meantime, I was to be assigned to TDY - Temporary Duty.
My first job was to go through the entire headquarters unit and make sure that everything was ready for an inspection. I made sure very manual was available and in the right place. I made sure every paper or report was filed correctly.
Everything was exactly where it should be if a general or anyone came to inspect.
It took a couple of days, and I actually enjoyed making everything neat and orderly.
After that was finished, I was assigned to a group that picked up trash for the battalion and took it to the trash dump.
We picked up items all over the base that people had set out and placed them in the back of the truck. Then we drove out to the trash dump.
It was a massive field and what amazed me was that there were dozens of Vietnamese people going through our trash trying to find something useful.
As we pulled to a stop and backed up to unload, the guys in the truck warned me not to let any Vietnamese get into the truck.
As soon as they saw us, the Vietnamese ran toward the truck, seeking to have first dibs on our trash.
Some of the people began climbing on the truck, but the guys who routinely worked this duty literally kicked them off.
We threw items off the truck as quickly as possible. It didn’t matter if people were in the way or not.
As soon as the truck was empty, we were on our way out of the dump.
It was a very unpleasant experience.
Called to the Captain’s Office
I was only on TDY for a few days when the sergeant told me the captain wanted to see me.
This was it.
I would find what was going to happen to me.
I went into the captain’s office, saluted, and he told me to sit.
I took my seat and waited for the news.
This episode is a little long, so I’ll tell you in the next one what he said.
There was really just one lesson from this time in my Army life, but it was an important lesson. If you ask for God’s direction and He gives it to you, do what He says.
Don’t worry about the results. The results rest in God’s hands.
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In this deeply personal episode, I recount some of the harsh realities and ethical dilemmas I faced during the Vietnam War.
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In today’s episode, I want to share a memory of an event I experienced in Vietnam — a dinner with some newly made friends.
I was working in the Fire Direction Control Center on a remote mountain firebase in Vietnam. We shared the hill with some American infantry units and even a South Vietnamese artillery unit.
The Visitor
One day, a Vietnamese soldier stepped into our bunker. I don’t remember that ever happening before, but I tried to be friendly and find out what he wanted.
His English wasn’t that great, but then my Vietnamese was non-existent.
Somehow, we did manage to communicate.
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Episode 15 “The General and the Plotting Pins”
As I mentioned in a previous episode, one of the distinctive elements of the Fire Control Center was all the antennas on top of our bunker. We had to be in radio contact with a number of groups — infantry units in the field, other artillery units who could support us if we came under attack, headquarters, helicopters flying to our firebase, and many more.
We knew knew all those antennas made us a prime target if the firebase came under attack, but we had confidence that the infantry pulling security on the firebase would keep us safe.
Guard Duty
But on one firebase — I believe it was LZ Crest — our Fire Direction Control Center was right next to a steep drop off. When we stepped out of our FDC, there were just a couple of feet between us and the barbed wire that protected us and the steep drop off.
That meant if the enemy were to somehow climb up that steep cliff and work through the barbed wire, they would literally be walking on top of us. That’s how close we were to the edge of the firebase.
I wondered where infantry would station the soldiers to protect us, but I shouldn’t have worried. The Army had that problem figured out. We were told the infantry would not be protecting that section of the firebase.
That didn’t sound good to me, but on one asked for my input.
Instead, we would be responsible for the defense of that section of the firebase.
So, we rotated one person at a time to sit on top of our FDC bunker and look over the edge of the hill to see if any enemy troops were trying to break into our “safe” world. It wasn’t much of a problem during the day, but at night, pulling guard duty was not that fun. I don’t know how the others were, but I heard every noise coming from the jungle and was sure it was probably a enemy soldier crawling through the wire toward us.
It probably had something to do with all the World War II movies I watched growing up, where it seemed the enemy always attacked when they weren’t expected. So I had no trouble staying awake and alert when I pulled guard duty at night.
I do remember one night after I finished my time on guard duty, that I went down into our bunker and woke up the man who was to replace me. He got up, put on his stuff and went out to take his position, while I crashed in my cot. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep.
However, I didn’t stay asleep for long. For some reason I woke up and opened my eyes. I looked at the cot next to me and a body was in it. The problem was … this was the cot of my replacement on guard duty.
I checked my watch. He was still supposed to be on guard duty. He should be sitting on top of our bunker, staring at the barbed wire protecting us from the enemy. He should not be sleeping on his cot.
I got up, went over to him, and shook him awake.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “You’re supposed to be on guard duty.”
He mumbled something about no one would come be able to climb up the cliff, so he shouldn’t have to sit out in the dark and the cold. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
All those movies I had watched growing up kicked into gear. Whenever someone on guard duty fell asleep in a one of those old war movies, something bad would happen.
I suppose I could have yelled at him to do his job but that wasn’t me.
I put on my shirt and my helmet, grabbed my rifle and went up to the top of our FDC bunker. I was going to pull his guard duty because I had this overriding goal to live. It didn’t bother me being out there because, like I said earlier, I knew I was motivated to pay close attention to any movements or sounds on the perimeter.
I don’t know how long I was out there, but the guy came out with his gear on and carrying his rifle, apologized for not staying on guard duty and took his place
I went down, dropped into my cot, and fell asleep.
Night Routines
One of the things that pulling guard duty on our firebase did for me was to give me a real appreciation for the troops in the field.
The infantry units were out in the jungle. They had to sleep on the ground — not cots or bunkers — and they didn’t have any barbed wire surrounding their position when they went to sleep. And they didn’t have special units whose job it was to provide them protection.
They had to take care of themselves.
I imagined that sleeping in the jungle was a difficult situation to be in on a nightly basis. I wondered how would do and was glad I didn’t have to find out.
But we did provide some assistance to the infantry units when they went to sleep.
Every night after they determined where they would be sleeping, the forward observer would call us and give us the coordinates for targets in case they came under attack during the night.
We would calculate the shooting solutions and have the guns on the firebase set to hit those targets.
That way if the infantry units came under attack during the night, there wouldn’t be any delay in getting artillery shells on the ground to protect them.
There was only one problem. We didn’t have enough plotting pins to stick in the map that marked our targets. We had been requesting plotting pins for weeks but apparently we were low on the list of important units to resupply.
So we were working without enough plotting pins.
The General Drops by for a Visit
I remember the day we received a call from a chopper that someone special was arriving for a visit.
That someone was the Commanding General of the Americal Division. I believe it was General Baldwin but I’m not sure.
I have to admit it was fun to watch the officers go into absolute panic mode as they only had a few minutes to prepare for the General’s surprise inspection. They were trying to get everyone on the firebase to clean up and be in proper uniform.
They barked orders. They scurried around trying to find anything that was broken or out of place. They told us how we needed to act.
You could see the fear in their eyes.
The helicopter landed and the general and his team got out and our officers gave them a tour of the firebase.
In Fire Direction Control, we just continued our work and made some humorous comments about the officers and lifers who lived in this state of terror when they were around commanding generals.
But then the officers came in followed by the general.
We snapped to attention. We may not have been fearful but we weren’t stupid. He was a general. The Commanding General of the Americal Division.
The general put us at ease, talking to us, encouraging us, and asking how things were going for us. It was a very pleasant experience.
Before he left, the general asked if there was anything he could do for us.
For the first, and only time in my life, I spoke to an Army general — the Commanding General of the Americal Division.
I said we were short of plotting pins and really needed them.
He said he would take care of it.
Then he left and the officers followed him to his helicopter and the surprise inspection was over.
I thought everything went well until our commanding officer - a lowly captain - returned to the FDC and just ripped into me.
Apparently, I had violated some rule lifers followed when talking to generals. By saying we needed plotting pins the captain felt he would be singled out as not doing his job.
He was very unhappy with me and he let me, along with everyone else in the FDC unit, know that I had done something awful.
I should note that the next day, we received a supply of plotting pins so we could do our work correctly.
LESSONS
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If you have a job to guard something — do your job.
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Just like the infantry units gave us protective shooting targets at night, it is wise to prepare for bad things that may happen in the future.
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You might think that I learned not to tell generals what you needed because it might make someone look bad. But that’s not what I learned. I learned that telling a person in authority what you needed was a good thing, even if the bureaucrats around you got mad at you. The fact is, we were now better able to protect those infantry units in the field, especially at night.
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Life on a firebase was interesting.
Sometimes we had really nice views of the beautiful countryside of Vietnam.
And we knew we were reasonably safe because we had concertina wire around our entire hill and soldiers from the infantry pulling guard duty for us.
So we didn’t really think that much about sappers and mortar attacks.
When we arrived on a new firebase, it seldom took us long to develop a simple routine for our daily lives.
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Mary Ann was a small military facility on a hill in a remote part of South Vietnam.
I don’t know who gave it the name Mary Ann, but it was a firebase that supported infantry troops on the ground in nearby areas.
During my time in Vietnam, I served on several firebases with the 3/82 Artillery — Mary Ann, Crest, Baldy, Casey Jones, and Deja Vu. At least those were the names we gave them. The Army often referred to them as an LZ (Landing Zone) or just a number (something like Hill 191).
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I was on my way.
Loaded into a Huey helicopter, I was flown to a nearby Fire Support Base called Hawk Hill.
I thought this was going to be my new home but I was wrong.
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Finally.
After two months of Basic Training, a brief stint on Temporary Duty, two months of Fire Direction Control School, a month of leave, and a few extra days at Fort Lewis retaking all my shots …
Finally I arrived by plane at Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam.
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First of all, I need to apologize to those of you who listened to the end of the previous episode. I said this episode would be called “I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane.”
You know, the 1969 hit song by Peter, Paul and Mary.
Well, I changed my mind.
I’m going to use the same song but I’m going to use the line following “I’m leaving on a jet plane.”
So, this is …
Episode 10: Don’t Know When I’ll Be Back Again.
After a little over a third of a year in training, the Army gave us a month of vacation time. They called it “leave.”
I decided to spend my leave at home.
Occasionally I do make wise choices.
I spent time with family and friends, attended my church, went to many of the fun places I had enjoyed before going into the Army.
It was a very good time.
But the day finally arrived when it was time to leave.
My orders were to report to Fort Lewis, Washington, where I would then be loaded onto a plane and sent to Vietnam.
So, I got on a plane at the Los Angeles International Airport and flew to SeaTac — the Seattle-Tacoma airport. I got a ride from there to Ft. Lewis, and was given a place to call home. It was actually just a bunk.
The next morning, the guy in charge gathered us together and handed out orders for our flights to Vietnam.
Everyone got a set of orders.
Well, not everyone.
Yep, you guessed it.
I don’t know why this kept happening to me in the Army, but I didn’t receive any orders.
The guy in charge came up to me and said there was a problem.
Problem?
What kind of a problem could there be this time?
I graduated from Basic.
I did my Temporary Duty (TDY) thing.
I got past the security clearance thing.
I graduated from Fire Direction Control school even though I fell asleep during the exam.
How could there be a problem?
What did I do wrong this time?
The guy in charge was very nice and said it wasn’t my fault.
Something not being my fault was a nice change in my Army career, but what could the problem be?
“We can’t send anyone to Vietnam unless their shot records are up to date,” the guy in charge said.
“I got all my shots,” I explained.
“I’m sure you did,” the guy in charge said. ”But the Army lost the records.”
“The Army lost my shot records?”
The guy in charge nodded.
“Which means what?” I asked.
“Which means you’ll have to get all the shots again.”
I couldn’t believe it. “All the shots?”
“All your shots,” he repeated.
“Even the one for the bubonic plague?”
“All of them.”
So, while lots and lots of men came through Ft. Lewis, got their paperwork approved, and were sent off to Vietnam, I was set up with appointments over the next several days to receive the entire sequence of shots the Army had given me in Basic Training.
And they didn’t use the “gun” to deliver several shots at a time. They administered my shots individually with hypodermic needles.
I’m really not into having needles stuck in my arm over and over and over, but the Army didn’t care what I thought of the process, even though it was their fault I was going through this thing.
I have to admit, I was particularly uncomfortable taking the Black Death shot again. The reaction to that shot laid me up for an entire afternoon after receiving it in Basic Training.
When it was time for me to take that shot, none of the medics warned me of the after effects, but I was prepared to have my day destroyed.
After the shot I waited and waited and waited but nothing happened.
Apparently back in those days vaccines actually kept you from getting the disease. My body had enough of the right kind of antibodies in it from the first shot so that I didn’t have any reaction to the second shot.
They said it would be a couple of days before they had room for me on a plane so my days were free.
FAMILY
One of the benefits of spending several extra days at Ft. Lewis was being able to visit family.
I don’t know if the Army felt guilty for having lost my shot records — no, I’m sure they didn’t — or if they were just trying to be nice — I doubt that also — but they did let my have time off (more leave time).
My Uncle Ray, Aunt Mae, and Cousin David lived in Seattle and they picked me up and gave me a tour of the places in their lives.
PHOTO
I hadn’t seen them for years and it was a delightful time.
I’M LEAVING ON A JET PLANE … FOR REALS
But finally the day arrived.
Time to board the plane for the life-changing adventure that I hoped would include a return trip in about a year.
The plane was very nice. It was a commercial airliner with a regular crew — which is just another way of saying they had comfortable seats and cute stewardesses. I assume the airlines contracted with the government to do these flights.
Whatever the reason, I enjoyed the set up.
That was important because it was a very long flight.
We had a layover in Japan, and I remember walking outside of the airport and taking a few steps in the area just so I could say I’ve been to Japan.
Are you ready?
This is my first chance to use it.
Ready?
Hey, I’ve been to Japan.
Pretty cool, huh?
THINKING
Because it was a long flight, I had a lot of time to think and I have to admit I actually thought about the possibility of being killed.
It was not a pleasant thought because I had a lot of plans for my life. I wanted to get married. I wanted to have kids. I wanted to be a good dad.
But I knew there was the very real possibility I would never have any of those experiences.
Would I die? Would my legs be blown off? Would I be damaged so that even my friends couldn’t recognize me when I returned?
You know, the kind of thoughts that probably cross your mind when you start off on a new adventure.
There was one bright spot if I didn’t return.
The Army had a life insurance policy that would send $25,000 to my grandma. That’s back when $25,000 actually was a lot of money.
I knew my grandmother would miss me, but the money would help her and she deserved it.
Finally a voice from the captain said we were approaching Vietnam. We would be landing in a place called Cam Ranh Bay.
There were a couple of lessons I learned during this stage of my Army life.
LESSON 1 - God is in control
I obviously came back from the war, but we have no guarantees of what will happen in the future. Get your life right with God today. You don’t know if you’ll get tomorrow.
LESSON 2 - Take the time to connect with people
Even though the Army lost my shot records, that mistake gave me the opportunity to spend time with family. Don’t complain about the mistakes or speed bumps in your life. Enjoy the people God has placed in your life.
Thanks for listening to this episode.
If you enjoyed it, please share it with others.
In the next episode I’ll share with you the story of my first four days in Vietnam. I think you’ll enjoy it.
Now before I go, I'd like to share a blessing with you from the Old Testament.
“May the Lord bless and protect you; may the Lord’s face radiate with joy because of you; may he be gracious to you, show you his favor, and give you his peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26 (The Living Bible)
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
Click the audio player above or read the transcript below.
Finally, I was on my way to Advanced Individual Training (AIT).
When I arrived at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, I was directed to the barracks that would be my home for the next two months. And even though it was a barracks, it had a nice feel to it.
The area where I was assigned had more space than I had back at Fort Polk and it had lockers that served as a wall separating me from the bunk next to me. Not a foot locker, mind you. An actual locker where you could hang up your clothes and store personal items.
It was luxurious.
The sergeant was friendly and helpful.
He let us know how the program worked. We were to keep the barracks clean, and he was responsible to see that we stayed in good physical shape and got to the various places where we would receive our training.
But he made it clear our main work over the next two months would happen in the classroom. We had to learn this thing called Fire Direction Control (FDC).
(NOTE: Sorry about the blanked out faces, but in this age I don’t feel I should share their images online without permission. I’m the one face that is visible.)
Most of us didn’t really know what Fire Direction Control was.
We learned quickly.
When soldiers out in the field needed artillery support, they would call us and it would be our job to do the math and then pass along a shooting solution to the soldiers manning the gun crews.
If our soldiers were under fire — a contact fire mission — they needed the shells to be landing right away. Speed mattered.
NOTE: Animated GIF from https://bestanimations.com
And if we did our job correctly, the artillery shells would land where they were supposed to land, which might be a couple of miles away from our position.
But if we didn’t do our job correctly, the artillery shells might land somewhere they shouldn’t land, possibly even on our own troops.
So, the motivation was there to do the job quickly and perfectly.
Our work day during training was basically eight hours.
We learned how to read topographical maps because the soldiers calling us would give us grid coordinates. We had to locate the grid coordinates on the map, determine it’s altitude, and compare it to the altitude of our position.
Then we would calculate where to have the men on the guns point their cannons, what angle their barrel should be at, and what charge they should use to launch the explosive shell.
We learned how to handle radio communications in high stress situations, reviewed basic first aid, and types of things to look out for in jungle fighting.
We were told that at the end of our training we would take exams and the top scorers would be sent to NATO forces in Europe and the rest would most likely be sent to Vietnam.
I have to admit that going to Europe sounded very intriguing, but I was a little concerned about the thought process of our decision makers. Why wouldn’t the very best in our group go to where a war was being fought?
But that decision was politics and therefore way above my pay grade, which I have to admit was very low.
We did exercises and maintained our skills on those “weapons of war” things, but the sergeant was right. Most of our time was spent in the classroom
And I enjoyed that.
What can I say? I always enjoyed school.
Not only did we have regular hours but we also had weekends off.
Life was good.
A SURPRISE
And then I received a very nice surprise.
A friend of mine in California said they had relatives in Oklahoma and wondered if I would like to visit them one weekend. I said sure and it wasn’t long before the Oklahoma family picked me up at Fort Sill and drove me to their house.
They were a wonderful hosts - husband, wife, daughter, and son.
I was given the son’s bedroom — I hope he didn’t mind — and the daughter, Ellen, was given the job of being my tour guide for this area of Oklahoma. I had some excellent home cooked meals, pleasant conversations, and a wonderful experience.
And Ellen was a great tour guide.
It was a fantastic weekend.
There was only one problem …
When the weekend was over I returned to the barracks.
I had been living in an Army barracks for so long that I had become used to it. But the second I walked into the barracks after returning from my weekend with a nice family, I realized Army life was a different world.
It took me several days to get back into the Army flow.
Freddie is a Friend
After learning how to take calls from the field and calculate them manually to send instructions to the gun crews, we were introduced to a new friend — Freddie.
Freddie wasn’t its real name. Officially it was FADAC — Field Artillery Digital Automatic Computer.
But just about everyone called it Freddie. This little computer was designed to take the information from the field and quickly and accurately generate a shooting solution.
Which made me wonder … If a computer could do the calculations, why did they need us?
Sure, we had to type in the information, but couldn’t anyone do that?
Well, we were the backup.
We checked Freddie’s work to make certain it matched our manual calculations, and if anything should happen to Freddie, we became the primary source of a shooting solution.
So I guess we did have a purpose.
The Mile
As we finished up our course at Fort Sill, we took a number of tests. These tests really didn’t matter that much. The Army just needed the scores to record in our files.
The test that I remember was the mile run.
It was a very nice day and I felt good. We were on a regular track so a mile was just four laps. The sergeant lined us up and gave us the command to go. I took off and it felt good as I ran.
NOTE: Image created by DALL-E
I had run track and cross country in high school and knew how to pace myself, and even wearing the long pants and the Army boots didn’t slow me down.
On the final lap I wasn’t worried about my time. I knew I would be well under the 8 minute requirement.
As I crossed the finish line the sergeant called out the time.
“Five minutes, four seconds.”
What?
I was bummed.
I just ran my personal best.
If the sergeant had called out the times as we were running our laps, I would have picked up my pace and I certainly would have sprinted at the finish.
I had never broken the five minute mark. I really wish I would have known. It would have been a nice way to finish my final timed mile run in the Army.
I consoled myself that it was a good showing since I had to run in combat boots, but the fact is, I have never broken the five-minute mile.
The Final Exam
But there was one exam that did matter.
That was the written exam everyone had to take and pass if they wanted to graduate from the Fire Direction Control school.
I didn’t have to cram for this exam. I worked very hard to master the material as it was presented, so the night before the exam I was able to relax and think about my future adventures in the United States Army.
Would it be Europe?
Would it be Vietnam?
Would it be somewhere else?
I remember taking my seat in the classroom and the exams being passed out. It was a timed exam, so when we were given the “start” command, I set right to work.
I was surprised at how easy it was. Every problem seemed straight forward and I was able to answer the questions quickly.
When I finished the last problem in the exam booklet, I looked at the clock and there was still almost one hour left.
I looked around the room and everyone … as in everyone … was hard at work on the exam.
We couldn’t leave early, so I closed my exam booklet and just watched people. No one finished. Everyone was working hard on the exam.
I didn’t know what the problem was. The test was easy. They should have all finished it quickly.
I laid my head on the table, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.
I don’t know how long I was asleep, but when I woke up I checked the clock and there were still about 15 minutes left.
And people were still working.
So I decided I might as well go back and review my answers.
I opened up the test booklet and decided to go through the exam booklet from the last question to the first just for variety.
The first problem I checked — which was the last problem in the exam — was wrong. I couldn’t believe I wrote down the wrong answer. It was an easy fix. Maybe it was good I had this time to check my work.
The next problem I checked was also wrong. How could that be? It was an easy problem.
I quickly glanced through the rest of the exam.
A whole bunch of my answers were wrong.
This was serious!
Going into supercharge mode, I reviewed as many problems as I could before time ran out. It was a good thing I did, because I had to make all kinds of corrections.
The only thing I could attribute it to is that I must have been asleep while answering questions before I lay my head on the table and actually fell asleep.
Time was up and we handed our papers in.
I apparently fixed enough of the answers in order to pass, but I would definitely not be going to Europe.
Still, I had successfully finished the course.
I was now officially a “Field Artillery Operations and Intelligence Assistant” or, in Army lingo, my MOS was 13E20.
Now I would get one month of leave before being sent to my next duty station, which was this place called Vietnam.
An Offer You Can’t Refuse … Unless You Do
But I wasn’t completely done.
The Army had one more thing for us to do before we left Fort Sill. They set up meetings where we would be pitched offers to take part in a couple of Army programs.
YOU CAN FLY!
The first offer was a meeting with an airborne recruiter. Yep, the guys we sang about back in Basic Training. Well, not actually the Airborne Rangers, just the airborne guys. You know, the guys who jumped out of planes … wearing parachutes.
They offered us the opportunity to “earn our wings.” The guy describing it made it sound very appealing. It was a three week course that would begin immediately, which meant I would have to delay my return home for three more weeks.
I gave it serious consideration. It was actually something I wanted to do and figured if I didn’t do it in the Army for free I probably wouldn’t do it in the future.
But three more weeks?
After four months in the Army, I decided I deserved to go home on leave right away.
So I passed on that opportunity
LAB RATS WANTED
The second offer was a little easier to make a decision on.
They wanted volunteers to serve in a research project. We would be stationed in … I believe it was New Jersey … and during most of our time we would be free of responsibilities so we could enjoy the sights on the East Coast.
I had never been to the East Coast and it sounded fun to actually visit the places I had read about in the history books.
But then he explained what we would be doing.
The research project was testing the effectiveness of drugs on various conditions — he didn’t explain what those conditions were. Some volunteers would be placed in a control group receiving a placebo while the others would receive the drug being tested.
He tried to assure us that they wouldn’t let anything bad happen to us, but the idea of being a lab rat was very unappealing to me.
So I passed on that opportunity.
I was going home!
I do have a few lessons from my time in AIT that I think are valuable.
-
Don’t fall asleep during a test. I’m sorry this one is even on the list, but you can trust me on this, falling asleep while taking a exam that could impact your future is not a good idea. In fact, it’s a very bad idea. Don’t do it.
-
Consider being a host family.It may seem like a little thing, or it may seem overwhelming to you, but I would encourage you to at least consider being a host for someone in need. That one weekend fifty-two years ago has made an impact on my life. Aside from the memories of meeting some wonderful people, it has also encouraged me to reach out to others and offer a little hospitality.
-
Consider your options carefully before becoming a lab rat.I’m all for the advancement of science, and I know the importance of controlled experiments, but don’t sign up to be a lab rat just to get something fun for you. Now you may have a disease that doesn’t have a cure at the moment — cancer or something like that. In that case, volunteering to be a lab rat … test subject … might be a good thing to do.
-
Don’t pass up once-in-a-lifetime opportunities because of little inconveniences.I had my chance to jump out of an airplane when I was in the Army, but I turned down the opportunity because the school was three weeks long and I wanted to get home right away. That is one of those decisions I wish I could have a re-do on.
Thanks for listening to this episode.
If you enjoyed it, please share it with your friends.
In the next episode, “I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane,” I’ll describe how I began my trip to Vietnam. It didn’t go quite the way I thought it would.
Now before I go, I'd like to share a blessing with you from the Old Testament.
“May the Lord bless and protect you; may the Lord’s face radiate with joy because of you; may he be gracious to you, show you his favor, and give you his peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26 (The Living Bible)
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
Click the play button above or read the transcript below.
Episode 8: What to do with a security risk
Life on an Army base as a security risk was not all that stressful.
I was assigned to a barracks where other people on TDY were staying. I was given a bed, unpacked my stuff, and settled in.
This was now my home.
There were no drill sergeants. No one yelling at us. No military formations and marching.
Our routine was fairly simple.
We got up, took a shower, went and had a leisurely breakfast in the mess hall, then reported to a place where the guy in charge of those of us on TDY told us what we were to do that day.
Sometimes the job lasted all day (8 hours), but usually if was over much sooner. When we were finished with the job we were done for the day. The rest of the day was ours to do whatever we wished to do.
And the weekends?
They too were ours to do whatever we wanted.
It definitely was different than Basic Training.
Different, but not at all like the Army I had chosen to become a part of.
And I have to admit I did not like it.
The jobs we were given weren’t difficult and usually we were left on our own to do the work, which was nice.
Let me give you a couple of examples.
POLISH THE BRASS
One day we were loaded onto a truck and driven across the base to an old building. It was the headquarters of something. I remember it had a large circular staircase and a number of weapons on display in the entry area.
The sergeant in charge of us explained our job for the day.
We were to polish all the brass in the building.
He gave us the supplies we needed to do the job, and then left.
We polished the brass railings on the circular staircase.
We polished the brass cannons on display.
We polished the brass doorknobs. There were a lot of brass doorknobs.
If it was brass, we polished it.
Around noon, the sergeant returned and checked our work. He thought we had done a good job so we were done for the day.
We were driven back to our “home” and the rest of the day was ours.
I could now add polishing brass to the skills I learned in the Army.
HAVE YOU EVER USED A SCYTHE?
Another day we were driven to a part of the base that had a lot of rolling hills. It was actually very pretty. The sun shone on the hills. Tall grasses waved in the gentle breeze.
When we got out of the truck, the sergeant handed us these things called scythes. I’d seen pictures of scythes in old books, but I don’t think any of us had the slightest idea how to use a scythe.
The sergeant pointed to the hill and said our job was cut the tall grasses with the scythes.
He was kind enough to show us how to hold it and demonstrated a couple of sample swings.
Then he drove away.
We walked up the hill and began swinging our scythes back and forth. We spent a couple of hours cutting those pretty tall grasses. Then the sergeant returned, said we did a good job, and drove us back to our home.
We didn’t wear the uniform of the guy in the picture above. We were real soldiers after all. We wore our olive drab uniforms.
I now added using a scythe to my list of skills learned in the Army.
DOG TAGS
On another day, the sergeant asked if anyone could type. I raised my hand.
I was taken to a small room and introduced to a strange looking device. I was told it was a special typewriter that created dog tags.
Every soldier I knew was given a set of dog tags. They were small metal tags worn around the neck that contained information about the soldier — name, blood type, religion, ID number.
So even if you were blown to little pieces, all a fellow soldier had to do was find the dog tag and they would be able to identify the body.
Apparently some soldiers had lost their dog tags so they needed new ones.
I was shown how to use the special machine — place the blank metal tag in a special holder and then type.
I was given a list of names with the information needed for each soldier and went to work creating dog tags.
Yet another skill added to my growing resume. I could make dog tags!
HOSPITAL ADMITTANCE
And then the post hospital said they needed someone to help with admissions in the Emergency Room.
This job lasted several days.
People would be rolled into the ER area on a gurney. While the nurses and medics worked on them, my job was to take their information.
There was a little admission form I filled out — name, religion, blood type, stuff like that. Often the soldier would hold up their dog tags that had all the information, but I wasn’t allowed to use the dog tags. I could only accept their verbal statements.
Yet another valuable skill I could add to my military accomplishments — I could fill out a simple one page form.
LET ME OUT OF HERE
In case you haven’t picked up on it, I was not a happy camper.
Two years of doing this type of work seemed unthinkable. I asked around and found out the Army had an office that handled assignments and I went to visit them several times.
I pleaded with the guy who worked with low level enlisted men like me. I explained that I wanted to be sent to a school for Advanced Individual Training — any school, anywhere.
He was a very nice and tried to make me feel good by saying I was lucky. There was no way I would be going to Vietnam.
I explained I didn't mind going to Vietnam.
I think that took him back a little bit, but he said there was nothing he could do.
I hadn't passed the security check and his hands were tied.
PRAYER
I remember every night pleading with God to get me out of this temporary duty situation I found myself in.
But every morning after breakfast the sergeant would give us our TDY job for the day. Day after day.
I spent a lot of time in prayer each night.
We’re talking hours.
I had memorized the Sermon on the Mount before going into the Army and one of the things I would do at night is recite the passage silently to myself as I prayed.
Pray?
Beg might be a better description.
I decided that I needed to persuade God that He had to answer my prayer. He couldn’t leave me stuck here in Fort Polk, Louisiana.
I remember the night that I determined to pray all night if needed.
I began by going through the Sermon on the Mount in my head.
When I came to this portion of Jesus’ teaching, I realized it was for me.
“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.”
Matthew 7:7-8 (ESV)
Ask. Seek. Knock.
That’s what I needed to do.
I determined that’s what I would do.
I began pleading with God again to get me out of Fort Polk.
After several minutes of praying, I resumed going through the Sermon on the Mount in my head.
And there was this passage …
“Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!”
Matthew 7:9-11 (ESV)
For some reason this was a revelation to me.
I knew the words.
God was my father.
God loved me.
God would give me good things.
I knew those words, but at that moment, I felt those truths, and I was overwhelmed.
It was almost like I got a glimpse of God.
God was my Father.
God did love me.
God knew what I was asking for.
I didn’t have to worry. I could trust him.
It was amazing.
All I could do was praise God and thank God for loving me.
I was overwhelmed.
I tried to pray for my Army situation … but I couldn’t.
I realized who God was and all I could do was praise Him and thank Him for loving me.
I remember several times that night trying to ask God to take care of my problems but I never got very far.
I understood that God loved me.
Finally I gave up trying to convince God to do what I wanted Him to do. He loved me. He was my father. He would give me whatever He thought was right.
I didn’t have to worry.
All I did the rest of the night was praise Him and thank Him for loving me.
It was so peaceful.
I went to sleep, totally content, and enjoying the fact that the God of the universe loved me.
HOW MUCH MORE
The next morning I woke up happy, ready to face the job I would be assigned on TDY. I wouldn’t be upset with any assignment given to me, or worried about my next two years in the Army.
God loved me.
What else mattered?
After breakfast I went to find out what my assignment for the day was but the sergeant said I was to report to that guy I had seen earlier.
I walked into his office, he smiled and told me my security problem had been resolved. Not only was I not a security risk any more, but I had been given a Top Secret security clearance.
He handed me my new orders.
I was being sent to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, to be trained in something called “Fire Direction Control.”
LESSON - God loves me.
This had to be one of the most important lessons I have ever learned. God loves me. It’s easy to say but the reality is that God is my Father and I can completely trust Him and rest in Him.
Thanks for listening to this episode.
If you enjoyed it, please share it with your friends.
In the next episode, I’ll take you on a trip to Oklahoma where I received my Advanced Individual Training (AIT) as the Army sought to teach me something they called Fire Direction Control (FDC).
Now before I go, I'd like to share a blessing with you from the Old Testament.
“May the Lord bless and protect you; may the Lord’s face radiate with joy because of you; may he be gracious to you, show you his favor, and give you his peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26 (The Living Bible)
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
Click the button above to listen to the podcast or read the transcript below.
Click the play button above or read the transcript below.
Episode 07 - Today You Are a Soldier … sort of.
The time had finally come.
We had completed all of our training sessions and passed all the required tests.
Finally we were going to move on from our designation as “recruits” and become “soldiers” — real soldiers.
There were just a couple of things that had to happen first.
GIVE IT BACK
Before we could leave what had been our home for two months at Fort Polk we had to turn in the things that the Army had given us for Basic Training.
The most important of those things was the rifle.
And it was important that before you handed the rifle in, you had to make it spotless.
The men we handed the cleaned rifles would check our work.
They seemed to have much better vision than us recruits.
I was sure my rifle was spotless when I handed it in.
The guy who accepted it from me looked at the rifle, looked down the barrel, then shook his head and handed it back to me.
I could not see one speck of dirt on my M16 or in the barrel but I cleaned it again.
And I handed it in again.
He looked at it, shook his head and handed it back.
So I cleaned it again.
This went on several times and I was not alone.
I don’t know if these “inspectors” were on a power trip or if all of us recruits were just terrible rifle cleaners.
Finally they began accepting the rifles and we were able to move on to the next step.
SIGN ON THE DOTTED LINE
The Drill Sergeant handed each of us some paperwork.
The document included a list of all the things the Army expected us to have done in Basic Training. I think they were just covering themselves so that if we got killed in battle they could say it wasn’t their fault because we had received training on what to do.
All we had to do was sign on the dotted line.
A simple task.
As I read through the list, however, I realized there were a couple of things on that list that I had not done.
For example, the list said I was to have completed the “live fire” training exercise. That’s where you crawled on the ground while they fired real bullets over your head.
Al least I think that’s what the live fire training was. I don’t really know because I wasn’t with my company on the day they did that training exercise. I was on KP — Kitchen Police.
Every day some of the soldiers were pulled out to serve on KP. And when you served on KP you didn’t do the training exercises for that day.
How could I sign a document stating that I had done live fire training when I hadn’t done the live fire training?
I knew everyone in the company must have had the same struggle I was having. At least I thought they should be having that struggle. But as I looked around, it didn’t seem like anyone else was bothered by the situation.
They just signed the document and handed it in.
How could I do that?
It wasn’t true.
Finally I steeled up my nerve and went to the Drill Sergeant. I explained the situation and told him I couldn’t sign the document because it wasn’t true.
I expected him to yell and scream at me.
Drill sergeants did have that reputation.
Instead, he smiled and said, “No problem. Don’t sign it and you’ll just have to repeat Basic Training.”
Then he walked away.
Repeat Basic Training?
Two months?
Do it over again?
Was he serious?
I thought about it for a few minutes.
Repeat Basic Training?
I signed the document and turned it in.
It was now official. I was out of Basic.
… and I was a documented liar.
THE PARTY
There was one little item that was not part of the regular Army training program.
Some of the guys in our company decided we should have a big celebration of our completing Basic. So they took donations from everyone to buy several cases of beer.
Since I wasn’t a beer drinker I persuaded them to get a couple of cases of sodas before I gave my contribution to the party.
They hid the cases in various places in the barracks.
It would be a surprise to our Drill Sergeants but we felt a party for us was well deserved, especially since we learned we wouldn’t be having the “normal” graduation ceremony.
In fact we weren’t going to have any graduation “ceremony” at all.
I don’t know if it was because most of us were from California and they didn’t expect many relatives would make the trip to Fort Polk, Louisiana, or if they had a different reason.
Whatever the reason, we would just have a company formation and be given our next assignment — the school where we would get our Advanced Individual Training (AIT) and get our Military Occupational Specialty (MOS).
In fact it was kind of exciting thinking about where you might be assigned. We had taken all kinds of written tests during Basic and those supposedly helped them to decide what each of us were most skilled at doing.
Would it be infantry? That’s where most of us thought we would be assigned.
Would it be military police? That sounded fun.
Would it be helicopter pilot training? That would be great but with my eyesight I knew it wasn’t a possibility.
Would it be language school? My brother had been in the Air Force and was assigned to the Defense Language Institute to learn Chinese. That sounded fascinating. Of course my brother was smarter than I was and probably did just a little better on the tests they gave.
I had one friend who didn’t have to wonder where he would be sent. He knew from the first day where he was going — West Point.
Not as a cadet but as a trumpet player in the West Point band. He did an audition for them before going into the Army and they liked what they heard so they offered him the position.
Why didn’t I learn an instrument? Being at West Point might be fun.
But I couldn’t play any musical instruments.
All I could play was a record player.
A record player.
That was one of those things where … oh, never mind. If you aren’t my age you wouldn’t understand.
GRADUATION
Finally the day arrived.
We were arranged in company formation and waited to hear the news.
No banners.
No band.
No … well, let’s just say it wasn’t an impressive setting.
The Master Sergeant stepped forward and said he had heard some distressing news.
Oh. Oh.
What could that be?
The Master Sergeant said he heard some recruits had decided to hide contraband in the Army’s barracks.
How did they find out about that?
He ordered a group of men to go bring the contraband out and stack it in front of the company.
It took awhile but eventually several cases of beer where stacked so all of us could see them. Whoever did the buying had planned on a very big party.
I didn’t see any cases of soda so I don’t know if they weren’t considered contraband or if the guys who took my money couldn’t see wasting it on Coke.
Then the Master Sergeant ordered that each can be opened and poured out on the ground. It took awhile but eventually the job was done. You could see the disappointment in many of the faces of our group as they watched our “party” absorbed by the ground.
Now my Dad was an alcoholic so I was used to the smell of alcohol but I have to admit I had never smelled anything quite as strong as the company ground that day.
I wonder how long the smell lasted.
I wonder if anyone got just a little buzz walking through our company grounds.
THE REAL GRADUATION
But now it was time for the real graduation.
Individual names were called out and they came forward to receive their orders for the next stage in the Army career.
Some were happy.
Some seemed resigned.
One by one they received their orders and headed to the barracks to pack their stuff.
More names were called.
More orders were handed out.
And then the Master Sergeant stopped announcing names.
There was just one little thing.
My name hadn’t been called.
I walked up to the Master Sergeant and pointed out I hadn’t received my orders. Perhaps he missed my name when he was reading the list.
He looked at me and said, “You didn’t pass the security check.”
Security check?
What security check?
I never heard of a security check.
And if there really was a security check, how could I not pass it?
Did they interview people from my high school years who didn’t like me and said something bad about me?
Did they ask a neighbor about something I said a decade ago?
How could I not pass a security check?
I’m me.
I’m the most secure person I know.
I’m a patriot.
I’m honest — except for signing that paper saying I had received all the required training. I volunteered my draft.
I wanted to be in the Army.
What do I tell my friends? The country considers me a security risk?
The sergeant explained, “If you don’t pass the security check, we’re not allowed to send you to any other post.”
Did that mean I was going to spend two years at Fort Polk, Louisiana? How could this be happening to me?
“What do I do now?” I asked.
“You’ll be assigned to temporary duty until the Army figures out what to do with you,” the sergeant explained.
He said I was going to live in a special barracks while I was on TDY — the Army even had a name for temporary duty — TDY.
So, while everyone else headed to the airport or got on busses to head to their Advanced Individual Training (AIT) assignment, I gathered my gear and headed to another barracks on the post.
A security risk?
I couldn’t believe it.
This was definitely not how I expected my graduation day from Basic Training to play out.
There were a couple of lessons I learned during this stage of my Army life.
LESSON 1 - Expect to be blindsided in life.
If you’re like me you like to plan. You like to know your options and arrange your future. It makes you feel like you’re in control. But life often brings events that you didn’t plan on or even consider.
God’s Word says “… for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)
All things?
Even being a security risk?
Yep.
God is in control.
So don’t be surprised when you get “blindsided.” Look forward to what God has in store for you.
LESSON 2 - Tell the Truth
I signed that document to get out of Basic Training over half a century ago.
It still bothers me.
If you knew your way around the government’s record system, you could find that paper (or, more likely, a digital version of it) with my signature on it saying I had done the live fire drill.
It was a lie.
Jesus said, “Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil.” (Matthew 5:37)
Thanks for listening to this episode.
If you enjoyed it, please share it with others.
In the next episode I’ll share with you how the Army chose to deal with a security risk, and I’ll share with you probably one of the more important lessons I learned in the Army.
In fact, it’s probably one of the more important lessons I learned in my life.
Now before I go, I'd like to share a blessing with you from the Old Testament.
“May the Lord bless and protect you; may the Lord’s face radiate with joy because of you; may he be gracious to you, show you his favor, and give you his peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26 (The Living Bible)
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
Click on the audio player above or read the transcript below.
Don’t play with things that go boom. Lessons from my days in olive drab by Clint Morey, Specialist 4th Class, retired.
Well … not actually retired … it’s more like I didn’t re-up.
Episode 6: “Machine Guns & Hand Grenades”
The Army still had more weapons that we had to learn how to use. But we didn’t have to master them They just wanted to expose us to them.
The M60 Machine Gun
This may sound a little weird in today’s world but I have to admit that using a lot of these weapons was fun.
The M60 machine gun was a good example.
It fires about 550 rounds per minute.
That’s a lot of firepower.
We shot at old cars that had been set out on the firing range and the bullets from the M60 literally ripped the cars to shreds.
You would not want to be on the receiving end of one of these weapons.
Grenade Launcher
And then there was the grenade launcher. I believe it was called an M79 but I’m not sure.
Give me a break.
It was over a half century ago.
This weapon was also a lot of fun to use. It only fired one round at a time but the round it fired packed quite a punch.
Similar to a shot gun, the M79 fired one 40mm grenade at a time. But it had a range of over 300 yards, a lot farther than an infantryman could throw a hand grenade.
Hand Grenades
Speaking of hand grenades, I’d seen soldiers throwing hand grenades in the movies so I thought it would be easy. It looked like throwing a baseball.
Before they let us touch a real grenade, however, they made us practice with a “dummy” grenade. Those “dummies” were small metal objects that resembled a grenade.
What struck me was how heavy they were.
It definitely wasn’t a baseball.
Throwing one of these puppies took concentration and strength.
You had to be able to throw it over a certain height — there was a rope you had to clear — and it had to cover a certain distance.
I think they didn’t want you to throw it such a short distance that it would do major damage to yourself and your buddies.
If you couldn’t clear the height and cover the distance, they didn’t let you near a real grenade.
Of course we received instructions on how to activate it by pulling the pin. When you threw the grenade the “handle” would pop off and the countdown to explosion would begin.
We were warned about “milking” the grenade which is loosening your grip on the handle while you held it. The instructors explained that if you did that you could unknowingly set off the timer and it would blow you up even as you held it in your hand.
Definitely not a desired outcome.
I don’t know about the others but I tended to grip the handle very, very tightly. I had no desire to find out if what the instructors taught us was true.
Even with all those warnings, it seemed like an exciting activity.
I was looking forward to throwing my first hand grenade thinking it would be just like the movies.
We were positioned behind a special concrete bunker and the instructor threw a grenade.
The explosion was unreal, sending dirt and rocks back at us.
It was then that I realized what I was holding in my hand.
It was a tiny bomb that could rip you — or to be more accurate — rip me to pieces.
Needless to say, the “fun” quickly became respect for a very effective and very deadly weapon.
I also developed a lot of respect for the instructors who had to stand in the bunker next to recruits who had never thrown a grenade before.
Those instructors had to make quick decisions.
Whatever the Army was paying them wasn’t enough.
Chemical Attack
We also learned how to put on gas masks in case we came under a chemical attack.
After learning how to make the masks secure, we were taken to a small single room cabin in the woods. A small group was sent into the cabin and the instructor told us to put on our masks.
The instructor then walked around and tried to pull off each mask. If he was successful you had to leave your mask off while he went to the next step.
The next step was releasing the gas into the small room.
While those without masks began to tear up and some even looked like they were going to puke, the instructor explained how the gas worked on a human body.
Then he told all of us to take off our masks so we could experience what it felt like.
Recruits would cough, have trouble breathing, tear up and look unhealthy.
When the instructor thought a recruit was in enough pain, he would let them leave the cabin and go into the fresh air.
For some reason, the gas didn’t really bother me. I don’t know why but my eyes didn’t hurt and I didn’t feel sick.
But I didn’t want to stay in there to see how long I could last.
So — and I’m a little ashamed to admit this — I pretended to be in a great deal of discomfort.
The instructor looked at me and sent me out of the cabin.
I quickly went outside and enjoyed the cool, fresh air, without any bad effects from the g as.
Hand to Hand Combat
Then we had to learn how to defeat the enemy in hand-to-hand combat.
Now I would like to say that growing up I learned how to be a good fighter, a man’s man, but that would be just a little bit of an exaggeration.
Oh, I did watch wrestling on TV. Not that NCAA type wrestling where they had rules and regulations but the type of wrestling where people wore strange outfits and had even stranger names.
I also watched roller derby on TV. I think the sport was supposed to have something to do with skating but it often turned into fights.
I did not have a lot of practice with actual one-on-one fighting growing up.
In fact during my entire school career I was in a grand total of … oh, let’s see … what was it? … one … fight.
And I did my best to avoid that fight.
I prided myself on my ability to talk my way out of just about any difficult physical situation, but on that day I wasn’t successful.
Something was said to me on the playground — we’re talking 6th grade here — and my friends who heard what was said made it very clear to me that if I backed down I would be a worthless coward.
I didn’t really want to be a worthless coward.
I also didn’t want to fight but I wasn’t able to come up with any pithy comments that would let me leave with my dignity intact.
Being labeled a worthless coward seemed more than I could bear.
So, the fight began.
I moved quickly at my opponent and wrapped my arms around him. We fell to the ground and I continued to hold so he couldn’t hit me.
That was my entire strategy.
Hold on tight for as long as I could.
I can’t tell you how glad I was when a teacher came over to break up the fight.
My schoolyard honor was intact and, more importantly, I wasn’t hurt.
THE ARMY TEACHES ME HOW TO FIGHT
That’s the awesome fighting background I brought with me to the Army.
But the Drill Sergeant explained not only did we have to learn to use all those “fun” weapons we had been practicing with, but we also had to learn how to fight the enemy with our bare hands..
So the Army was going to teach me hand-to-hand combat.
They knew they had to begin with my attitude.
The Drill Sergeant screamed at us to get us properly motivated. “What’s the sweetest tasting liquid in the world?”
We screamed back, “Blood, Drill Sergeant!”
That motivation technique wasn’t working for me.
But the Army didn’t care if my attitude was right. They went right on with the training.
We practiced many moves that were designed to disable an enemy who was trying to hurt us. It resembled something like judo but it seemed to me that it required an enemy who would let you grab him, trip him, and roll him to the ground.
As I considered real life applications of these skills in a combat situation, I was leaning toward my preferred way of fighting developed back in 6th grade — wrap your arms around the enemy and hold on tight.
Hopefully a teacher or fellow soldier would come along and end the fight.
But then the Army introduced me to the hand-to-hand fighting technique of all hand-to-hand fighting techniques.
It was called …
THE REAR STRANGLE TAKEDOWN HOLD
As the Drill Sergeant demonstrated the technique, I was totally impressed.
More than impressed.
I was convinced this would work.
I could see this working in the jungles of Vietnam — in broad daylight or the dark of night. Night seemed like a better setting to me but I was sure it would work in either one.
It didn’t even matter if the enemy had a weapon.
This move was so good that victory was almost guaranteed.
You would sneak up on the enemy from behind and then quickly … wrap your arm around his neck, jump backwards with your feet going straight out behind you so you would land on your belly.
The enemy, totally surprised, would fall backwards and land on his back.
On the way down to the ground you would make a quick move with your arm and break the enemy’s neck.
Battle over.
Talk about a move!
The Drill Sergeant had us practice the move on each other. Of course they had certain rules on how to practice because they didn’t want us breaking the necks of our fellow recruits.
But it was amazing.
It would work.
I was sure it would work.
There were a few possible complications however.
First, you had to find someone who stood perfectly still.
Second, you had to find someone who didn’t hear you sneaking up behind him through the jungle. Just stepping on a branch or leaf might give you away.
Third, you had to find someone who didn’t twist out of your hold as you wrapped your arm around his neck.
Fourth, you needed him to be willing to fall straight backwards so you could do the neck snapping thing.
Perhaps it’s a good thing I never had to use this technique in Vietnam.
But I was sure it would work … I think.
OTHER STUFF
Now the Army had a lot of other things for us to learn — map reading, first aid, how to use peripheral vision to see at night, and many many more skills a real soldier would sue.
But finally, after two months of training, we were done.
We were ready to graduate and become real soldiers.
LESSON 1 - If you work with dangerous equipment or in dangerous situations learn to do it correctly.
LESSON 2 - Many people join the military to learn a skill or see the world but you must always remember … at any time you may be called to fight and kill. Don’t forget that.
In the next episode I’ll tell you about our graduation day. It didn’t go quite the way I thought it would.
If you enjoy this podcast, please share it with your friends.
Before I go, I'd like to share a blessing with you from the Old Testament.
“May the Lord bless and protect you; may the Lord’s face radiate with joy because of you; may he be gracious to you, show you his favor, and give you his peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26 (The Living Bible)
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
Click on the audio player above or read the transcript below.
Don’t play with things that go boom. Lessons from my days in olive drab by Clint Morey, Specialist 4th Class, retired. Well … not actually retired … it’s more like I didn’t re-up.
Episode 5: “The Sweetest Tasting Liquid in the World”
Now that the Army had us looking like soldiers, they had another job.
And I have to admit, this job was a little more difficult than teaching us how to salute and march.
The Army had to teach us to become soldiers … real soldiers … fighters … or, to be a bit more precise … they had to teach us how to kill.
PHYSICAL CONDITIONING
Physical conditioning became an important part of our training.
Which made sense to me.
Not that the Army cared what I thought about their training program … or anything else for that matter.
We were going to be sent to the jungles of Vietnam to fight a war, and being in good physical shape seemed like a pretty important trait.
So … We ran. We marched. We threw things. We carried things. We did push ups. We did sit ups. We did more running and more marching.
THE PCPT TEST
They even had a test to see if we were good enough to be soldiers. And they told us we had to pass that test in order to get out of Basic Training.
The Army called it the PCPT — the Physical Combat Proficiency Test.
That test included things like:
Run, Dodge, Jump (Shuttle Run)
They tested our agility and speed running around objects, leaping over things (no tall buildings), and sprinting short distances.
These seemed like useful skills to have in a combat situation.
Low Crawl
I have to admit I would never have come up with this one on my own. The low crawl was a 40 yard sprint.
Well, not a sprint actually. It got its name because you had to cover a distance of 40 yards with your belly touching the ground the entire way.
Think about that.
Almost half a football field with your belly in constant contact with the ground.
If you did it right you resembled a cockroach scurrying across the ground.
If you didn’t do it right you felt like a cockroach as the Drill Sergeant screamed at you while your arms and legs flailed and your belly seemed connected to one spot.
But I could see how it was a useful skill if bullets were flying around overhead or you had to go under obstacles.
Horizontal Ladder
This one kind of mystified me.
The horizontal ladder resembled the Monkey Bars you see at parks with little kids playing on them. These were larger and the bars rotated which made them more difficult to grip.
I’m not sure what specific combat skill they were trying to teach us. Perhaps they were just trying to increase our upper body strength. I actually practiced on monkey bars at playgrounds before entering the Army.
The next test was sprung on us without warning. We marched to a field and were told to pair up.
After everyone paired up, then they told us what we would be doing.
It was called the 150 YARD MAN CARRY.
Right away I knew I had a problem. The guy I was matched up with was about 6’5” and 40 pounds heavier than me. He was quite happy he got me. I was not not quite as happy that I got him.
In this test your partner lay on the ground and you had to lift him up, put him on your shoulder, and run 150 yards. That’s the length of one and a half football fields. Imagining I was being shot at, I ran as fast as I could. My legs were burning and a little wobbly by the time I finished.
While it was a challenging test because of who I was paired up with, I thought it was a very important skill. I could envision being in a battlefield situation where a fellow soldier was injured and needing to be carried off the field.
I understand they don’t use this activity any more because it is too difficult for many of the recruits.
The final test item I remember was the MILE RUN.
Again, I thought this was a good exercise for general fitness as well as being useful in a combat situation if you were on foot.
I was glad I had been in cross country in high school and actually enjoyed running. So this was an easy test for me.
I remember when we took the PCPT test everything went well, except for one item. I had always done a good job on the low crawl but on the test day it seems like my belly was stuck to the ground and I had to work really hard to finish under the time limit.
But I passed tests and that’s all that mattered.
After Vietnam, the Army got rid of the tests I took and replaced them with new tests.
Why they made those changes is another story for another time.
WEAPONS OF WAR
Getting in shape was just part of our training.
We also had to learn to use the weapons of war.
The goal was to kill the enemy and avoid being killed in the process.
The M-16
Our main weapon was the M-16.
Our drill sergeant made sure we called it a rifle and not a gun. He even had a little phrase he used to help us remember to call it a rifle, but I’m sure they don’t use that phrase any more.
Now I was a city boy raised in Los Angeles and firing weapons was not something that I did in the course of a normal day.
In fact, the closest I came to developing my shooting skills as a civilian was done in places like a carnival or Disneyland.
I would be at a booth that had a bunch of targets. Some of those target sat there. Some moved.
I paid the person running the booth and was given the rifle.
Sometimes those rifles worked like BB guns. Sometimes they sent out electronic signals.
On the electronic shooting ranges, the targets moved right and left and when you shot, it sent out some type of electric signal and if you somehow hit the item, it stopped, turned around and went the other direction.
That was my experience with shooting before the Army.
In the Army it was a little different. We learned how to completely disassemble and reassemble the M-16. We learned safety techniques so we didn't shoot each other or ourselves. And we spent a lot of time on the shooting range.
I have to admit I was not that good at the beginning but I practiced and got better and better and better.
By the time we came to our final test towards the end of basic training I was really a very good shot. The final test went over two days. Depending on your skill level you got one of three classifications. I don't remember what they were — expert, marksman and something else. I wanted to get the top classification.
The person with the top classification could qualify to be a sniper.
Now I knew I was not going to be a sniper because my eyesight without glasses was so bad. Even if I had good eyesight, the idea of sitting around waiting to shoot someone was not something that really was appealing to me.
But I did want to get the top classification.
For the final exam we had a shooter and a spotter. So when I shot at the various targets, the spotter would record my score. And I remember at the end of that first day my score was high enough to be in the top level.
So I was excited for the next day because I knew that I could get the top award.
But then something happened.
And it was something that was not all that uncommon in Louisiana.
It rained.
It rained hard. It rained so hard, I could barely see a few feet in front of me.
But we had our shooting to do on the range for our final exam.
I remember lying on the ground on my belly in a good prone firing position as the rain splattered all around me.
We were notified the targets were ready.
I stared and stared trying to see the target through the pouring rain.
Finally I looked up at the spotter and told him I couldn’t see the target.
The spotter told me he couldn't see the target either but I should go ahead and shoot anyway. So I pulled the trigger and shot.
Neither one of us could see if I hit what I shot at so the spotter just give me a score that was high enough to be a passing grade for that second day and that way I was able to get my basic shooting award.
But I did not get the top level of shooting.
THE SPIRIT OF THE BAYONET
I included the bayonet here because it seems like it should go with the M-16, even I don’t think I ever actually saw a bayonet attached to an M-16.
“What’s the spirit of the bayonet?” yelled the Drill Sergeant who was trying to get us into the proper mental attitude for bayonet training.
We knew the words he wanted us to say in response, but most of us didn’t have the proper mental attitude and our response was a little on the weak side.
“To kill, to kill, with cold hard steel, Drill Sergeant,” we mumbled.
It seems like most of the recruits had my background with this warrior mentality thing.
Needless to say, the Drill Sergeant was not pleased with our response.
So, he had us do push ups while he screamed at us.
Then he asked us again, “What’s the spirit of the bayonet?”
We were a little louder but not enough to please the Drill Sergeant.
So more push ups.
We went through that routine several times until we were finally able to answer his question …
“What’s the spirit of the bayonet?”
“To kill, to kill, with cold hard steel, Drill Sergeant.”
Finally, he was happy.
So we moved on to the next phase of our attitude adjusting.
THE SWEETEST TASTING LIQUID IN THE WORLD
“What’s the sweetest tasting liquid in the world?” yelled the Drill Sergeant.
When the Drill Sergeant told us how he wanted us to respond, I have to admit, we looked at each other and some even laughed.
The Drill Sergeant did not take that well.
“What’s the sweetest tasting liquid in the world?” He yelled at us again.
“Blood? Drill Sergeant.”
We definitely did not have the warrior attitude he wanted to hear.
So, more push ups.
And more screaming and yelling by the Drill Sergeant.
As I recall, while we were doing push ups, he said a bunch of very unkind things about those of us from California.
With all the push ups we did that day, we were getting into good physical shape.
And finally we were able to answer his question …
“What’s the sweetest tasting liquid in the world?”
“Blood, Drill Sergeant.”
The Drill Sergeant smiled.
He earned his pay that day.
Now that we had the proper warrior attitude, we began our bayonet training.
Only we didn’t practice with real bayonets. Instead we practiced with pugil sticks.
Those were sticks with pads on each end.
If you ever saw the old Robin Hood movie with Errol Flynn, it was like the scene where Robin and Little John confronted each other on the tree bridge.
There was no finesse. Basically we just pounded on each other until the Drill Sergeant blew his whistle.
Lessons?
Well, there were a couple.
(1) Well, when they taught us how to use some of the weapons of war, I tried to learn how to do it well. I wasn’t just trying to “get through” the test. I was trying to master the skill.
That’s a good lesson in everything we undertake. Try to become excellent at what you do.
(2) Some things just aren’t aren’t all that important.
I have to admit that I never bought into the idea that blood was the sweetest tasting liquid in the world.
Thanks for listening to this episode.
If you enjoyed it, please sign up to follow the podcast and in the next episode I'll share about some of the very, very dangerous weapons of war we used and how I did on my final tests.
Not to give it away but I actually graduated from Basic.
Before I go, I'd like to share a blessing with you from the Old Testament.
“May the Lord bless and protect you; may the Lord’s face radiate with joy because of you; may he be gracious to you, show you his favor, and give you his peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26 (The Living Bible)
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
Click on the audio player at the top of this page or read the transcript below.
“Don't play with things that go boom: lessons from my days in olive drab” by Clint Morey, Specialist 4th class retired.
Well, not actually retired.
It's more like I didn't re-up.
Episode 4: “I don't know, but I've been told …”
Now when the army said they didn't have room for us at Fort Ord, I actually wondered what we would be doing, but I shouldn't have worried. The Army had a plan.
The Army always had a plan.
Now their solution to the problem of overcrowding was simple.
They loaded us all on buses and sent us across the country to a place called Fort Polk, Louisiana.
Now I have to admit, Fort Polk was a long way from the beautiful beaches of Monterey Bay, but Fort Polk was the place where the Army thought they could turn us into soldiers.
And if you think about it, the army had set a pretty big task for itself.
They were going take a bunch of US civilians, and in just eight weeks turn us into members of the most powerful military on the planet.
When we arrived at Fort Polk, we were divided into groups and sent into barracks to meet our drill sergeants and be assigned our bunks.
Now I can remember my very first day at Fort Polk while we were there setting up our bunks and unloading our duffel bags.
Some of the men were taking showers and now I have to admit I hadn't showered at Fort Ord, and I obviously hadn't showered during our cross country trip on the bus.
I was feeling a little grungy.
So I decided to take a quick shower so I would begin my real Army training as a clean soldier.
Who knows, that might even impress the drill sergeants that I was a good soldier.
Well, that was my first mistake in the Army … doing something on my own.
Now I realized it was a mistake when one of the drill sergeants began screaming at those of us who were taking showers.
Now this was a lot closer to what I expected from the movies I'd seen.
The Drill Sergeant explained in that very special way that Drill Sergeants explain things that he had not given permission to anyone to take a shower.
And the first thing we needed to learn was we didn't do anything unless he gave us permission to do that thing.
Had it been possible to sneak away, I would have done so, but I was standing naked in the shower while the drill Sergeant screamed at us and there was no way to hide.
The Drill. Sergeant said we would do two firewatches that night.
I had no idea what a firewatch was, but I quickly found out it was something along the lines of guard duty.
So instead of getting eight hours of restful sleep in my new home, I spent two hours at night pacing the barracks floor.
I didn't see any fires which was good because the wooden barracks had been built before World War Two and probably would have been consumed in seconds.
But the next morning, the drill Sergeant got us out of bed and ordered us to take showers the Army way.
The showers were to take 90 seconds.
Thirty seconds to get wet.
Step back so someone else could get wet while the other person was getting wet.
You had thirty seconds to soap up and scrub.
And then you were given thirty seconds to step back under the shower and rinse off and that was it.
The First Goal
Now it was obvious that all of us had a lot to learn, and one of the first things we realized that the army set itself to do was to make us look like soldiers.
They taught us how to fold our clothes, where to place them in our footlocker, and there was only one way — the Army way.
The Army taught us which uniform to wear. There were different uniforms for different occasions.
The Army taught us how to make our beds folding corners at 45 degree angles, making sheets and blankets tight. Now it took time to make some of them perfect and it had to be perfect.
I can remember some nights I chose to sleep on top of the covers so that all I had to do in the morning was tighten the corners.
The Important Stuff
Well, with those little skills out of the way, we got around to learning the important stuff.
One of the most important lessons on our road to becoming a soldier was learning how to salute.
Now, I have to admit that I smile today at many Hollywood movies where the soldiers not only don't salute properly, they seldom hold their salute until it's returned.
Well, after we learned how to salute, we then had to learn the next important task — who to salute.
We were just to salute officers but that meant we had to learn all the ranks and all the insignias so that we would know that a Second Lieutenant was lower than a Lieutenant Colonel.
That kind of stuff.
Now I have to admit I actually enjoyed saluting.
I thought I did it well and I felt like it was a sign of respect.
Many of the men in my unit, however, had a different view.
Some hated saluting, and if they were walking down the street and saw an officer coming their way, they would literally cross the street so they could avoid having to salute the officer.
Now there were also some others who were a bit more devious.
If a group of them saw an officer coming their way on the sidewalk.
They would purposely space themselves out in a straight line so that when the officer passed he would have to salute and salute and salute and salute.
They seemed to enjoy that.
Of course they were smart enough to know that you only really tried that on Second Lieutenants.
We also had to learn the chain of command everyone from the drill Sergeant up to the President of the United States.
We had to know who was important and where they stood in that chain.
We had to know.
Who we were supposed to obey, which as recruits was just about everyone who walked the face of the earth.
We also learned how to gather into what was called squad formation.
We learned how to stand at attention.
And yes, there's an army, a way to stand at attention.
We learned how to stand at ease and how to be dismissed from a group.
We learned how to turn — left face, right face about face.
Now that may sound silly to you and I grant you it's not rocket science, but there is an Army way to turn.
In fact, once I was assigned to help a group of about, I think were four or five guys who were having difficulty learning their left face and right face.
So we practiced and practiced and practiced until they master it.
Like with saluting, when I watch a movie with a Hollywood soldier, I notice how the actors do an about face when they leave the presence of a superior officer.
Few actors have the correct footwork.
And then we marched — lots and lots of marching.
Now I enjoyed marching.
Perhaps it was from my Junior High PE classes.
I think our PE teachers were former Marines or something, but whatever, it was I just thought marching looked cool.
I enjoyed being part of our group marching doing those things well.
Keeping Step
One of the things we did when we marched to us use cadence calls that helped us keep step and it made the marching more fun.
The Drill Sergeants would lead us in a cadence call while we marched.
Now the drill Sergeant would call out a phrase and our entire company would respond back, usually with the same phrase.
It could be as simple as left, right, left or Countdown 1 2 3 4. Bring it on down 1 2 3 4. That kind of thing. And when we were moving in double time, more like a slow jog, there were cadences just for that one.
One that sticks in my mind that we used was called the Airborne Shuffle.
The Drill Sergeant would call out.
“I want to be an airborne Ranger”
And then we would respond with the same phrase. “I want to be an airborne Ranger.”
And the cadence went on.
“I want to lead a life of danger.”
We'd respond.
“I want to go to Vietnam.”
“I want to kill some Charlie Cong.”
“Every day.”
“All the way.”
“Airborne … Ranger.”
“Life of danger.”
OK, this is not exactly uplifting music, but it did help us keep in step.
And they were trying to make us into warriors and for some reason they thought this would help.
However, as a Christian, I would say about a quarter, maybe a little bit less than that, of the cadence calls I wouldn't say out loud.
There was a cute little call about a yellow bird and I would say part of it as we marched.
But then I wouldn't say the part that described what we did to the little bird's head.
And then there was a cadence call that began with the drill Sergeant calling out, “I don't know, but I've been told —”
And then we would all respond, “I don't know, but I've been told.”
And the Drill Sergeant would tell us what he'd been told, and I'm not going to share with you what the Drill Sergeant said because I refused to say it when I was in the Army and I'm not about to say it to you today.
And it wasn't just the marching that had those kind of overtones.
I remembered one time we were getting one of our uniforms out … I'm sorry the drill Sergeant told us we needed a certain uniform for a special occasion.
I got my clothes on and I couldn't remember which hat we were supposed to wear and I asked the guys around me do we wear a garrison cap with this?
No one had any idea what I was talking about.
It seemed no one in my entire unit knew what a garrison cap was.
One guy finally held up a cap.
It was a garrison cap and he said the name that everyone else used to identify it.
Well, it's what the people in the army called it, but I would never use it and in fact I've I've wondered sometimes now that the army is co-ed, how many marching songs had to be dropped or severely rewritten?
How many descriptions of items had to be redefined and how many people had to watch how they use the words that they used?
Hopefully quite a few.
Latrine Duty
There were four squads in our company and the first thing the drill sergeants did was to assign each squad to a separate job.
To last a week long. Now my first week of basic training, my squad was assigned … yeah, what can I say, to clean the latrine?
It wasn't a fun job, but we did it and the next week we were assigned a different job.
Whoever followed us, however, did a terrible job of cleaning the latrine and the captain ripped into the drill sergeants, and so the drill sergeants got together and decided since our squad was so good at it, the rest of basic training cleaning the latrine was our assigned job.
So in my eight weeks of Basic I spent seven weeks cleaning our latrine.
Another interesting thing and it's hard maybe to understand those if you didn't go back to it.
This was a time in our country when antiwar demonstrations were occurring everywhere.
If bad things happened in the military, those incidents usually made the Evening News. Shortly before I came into the Army, some Marine crews had died, actually, in their training in Boot Camp, which was their name for what we would call Basic.
Well, the government decided because of the terrible news that they were going to make some changes on how recruits were trained. And the army they made some that well, our drill sergeants were not real pleased with.
They were supposed to treat us more humanely.
First, our drill sergeants were not allowed to call us bad names because that would make us feel bad.
OK, it's difficult to explain how much this really bothered the drill sergeants.
They had been calling people bad names.
They probably faced it in their training and they had some pretty good bad names that they applied to the recruits, but it was no longer allowed.
From here on out, however stupid our actions were, they were required to call us recruits.
They were also not allowed to humiliate us in front of other recruits.
And humiliation had been a big part, I think of their training methodology and we could see how much it was bothering them.
In fact, I remember one time when we were taking a break, we asked the drill sergeants what kinds of things they used to do, when it was allowed.
One of our drill sergeants had a couple of our recruits come out and try to climb a tree.
You'd think, well, that's not any big deal.
Well, it is if you're climbing a tree upside down. It makes you look kind of foolish, and it's really hard to do.
Well they had also been given another thing to help make our lives easier.
We had to receive eight hours of sleep each night.
Now I can remember a couple of times when the drill Sergeant had us going to bed in the late afternoon and we couldn't believe it.
We were wondering why until it dawned on us.
The rule that we would be getting up at 3:00 in the morning to do some activity, and while it may have made us feel soft and cuddly, and the drill sergeants loved us, even as I was going through these training situations, I didn't appreciate it because I knew if we were in a battlefield situation they were not gonna ask us, “Did you get your eight hour sleep? Well, we'll just wait before we start our attack.”
Well, the drill sergeants had some other difficulties too.
Our drill sergeants and I don't know their background, but they tried to teach us the manual arms with our M16.
But they had no idea how to do it with an M16. They had learned on an M14.
And they just struggled and struggled.
And finally I think they gave up, you know, they gave us a few things to do, but pretty much gave up.
And we were doing all these things, going to classes, doing studying all kinds of stuff.
Policing
But I remember one day our drill Sergeant told us we were going to learn to police and now this actually sounded good to me.
I thought finally we get to learn some soldier stuff.
Well our drill Sergeant got us together, marched us over to the parking lot of the PX and arranged us in a long single file line. And then he had each of us bend slightly at the waist and look towards the ground.
And then he had us walk slowly, step by step across the parking lot.
Our job was to pick up every piece of trash on the ground.
This was called policing an area.
So much for real soldier stuff and I have to admit, even now I'm bothered when I see people throwing trash on the ground.
It's like they shouldn't be doing that.
Someone has to pick it up.
Lots and Lots of Shots
Now as a soldier you could be assigned anywhere in the world, and one of the things I remember about Basic training is that we got shots, lots and lots of shots.
I assume they were trying to inoculate us to anything that could happen anywhere in the world.
Usually we just marched up to the place where the shots were being given, formed in a line and walked through the building and the medics.
At least, I assumed they were medics.
Generally used the gun on us and the gun let them do instead of a single needle shot at a time they might have several shots. They'd push this gun against your arm, pull the trigger and boom, you'd get, I don't know three, four or five shots at a time.
Well, I remember one time, our drill Sergeant said we were going to receive a shot to protect us from the bubonic plague.
The bubonic plague.
Now I'd studied enough history to know that … wasn't the bubonic plague the Black Death in the Middle Ages that killed about oh, you know, 50 million people — a third of the population of Europe.
Why was I getting a shot for the bubonic plague?
Where were they planning to send me?
The drill Sergeant calmed us down, told us not to worry. Besides, the Army was going to give us the afternoon off so we could do whatever we wanted to and just have a good time.
Wow, they never did that before.
Maybe the Army was becoming my buddy after all, so we got to our shots, went back to the barracks and the Drill Sergeant said the rest of the afternoon was ours.
I think maybe two or three guys went out to play ball, but I'm not sure because I was getting a little woozy and tired and I lay down on my bunk and I didn't move for several hours.
Apparently I had a mild case of the Black Death, now just about everyone else in the unit was out cold on their bunks recovering from their shot.
The Army had done it to us again.
The afternoon off, yeah, right.
Hurry Up and Wait
Well, I don't know. One more thing.
Have you ever heard the phrase hurry up and wait?
I really think that phrase may have been invented in the Army.
It was so common that the drill sergeants would make us rush out to get all of our stuff ready, then rush to some place, and then we would get to that place.
And then we would wait and wait and wait.
And we used to make fun of the Army for always doing that to us.
Well, one day I had been assigned to help out in the headquarters of our company and I was in there one time when I saw a glimpse of how this might happen.
I was at a desk.
A phone call came in.
I answered the phone.
It was a call from the general.
Not him personally, but his staff called and said the general was going to come visit tomorrow at 9:00 AM and I was to pass that message along to the captain.
So I went to the captain and told the captain that the general had called and he was coming to visit at 9:00 AM.
You could see the panic in his face.
The general, the head of the whole Fort Polk, Louisiana was going to come and look at us.
The captain called the executive officer into his office.
The executive officer was the First Lieutenant, and I heard the captain explain very clearly that he wanted everyone in squad formation at 8:30 AM. There was no way he was going to be late for the general. He ordered the first Lieutenant, 8:30 AM.
Then the first Lieutenant came out and got to the Master Sergeant, who is kind of the highest enlisted ranking guy who kind of runs the nuts and bolts of the company. Well he told the master Sergeant, to make sure that everyone is in squad formation at 8:00 AM. He wanted to be certain not to get the captain mad at him for being late.
And then I saw them Master Sergeant. He had the drill sergeants come in — the heads of each of our companies — and he explained to them that he wanted everyone dressed and ready to go in squad formation at 7:30 AM.
The Master Sergeant was not about to get the First Lieutenant mad at him.
Well, I couldn't believe what I just saw, but it started to make sense.
And that night I went to bed, woke up the next morning and guess what our drill Sergeant said.
We had to get ready for a special meeting. The general was coming to see us so we all got dressed in whatever uniform you get dressed for when a general comes to see you. And we lined up in squad formation at 7:00 AM.
Now I hadn't told anyone, but I knew the general wasn't coming until 9:00 AM, but there we were.
The drill sergeants were quite happy.
They made the master Sergeant happy.
The master Sergeant was happy because he made the first Lieutenant happy.
The first Lieutenant was happy because he made the captain happy and the captain was happy because everyone would be ready when the general arrived.
So we waited and we waited.
And we waited.
And we waited.
And then, oh, I would say maybe an hour or so after we had first got there.
Someone came out of the company headquarters and they said they had just received a call from the general and he was busy that morning so he wouldn't be able to make it.
So we left and that was my little glimpse at the Army’s “hurry up and wait. “
So Speaking of lessons … I had a couple of important lessons from this time period.
The one related to that story I just shared with you is patience.
Patience is a good thing.
You can sit and complain, and argue and moan and whine, but that doesn't usually speed things along, so patience is a good quality to have.
As I look back on my time in Basic Training, I think I learned an important lesson during this time period and I am so glad that I did not give in to the group pressure to conform to the ways that others spoke, the topics they wanted to wallow in, the attitudes they wanted to show.
There is a really fascinating verse in the Bible. Psalm 19:14. It says,
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart.
Be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my Redeemer.
Psalm 19:14
That is a great verse and it tells us what God desires of us, and I would encourage you seek to please God in everything you do.
Don't let the group, whether it's at work or at school or just the people you hang around with.
Don't let the group set the standards for your life.
Choose to do what is right … whether anyone else does it or not.
Thanks for listening to this episode.
If you enjoyed it, please sign up to follow the podcast and in the next episode I'll share what the Army did after they got us looking like soldiers.
They set out to train us to become warriors.
Now before I go, I'd like to share a blessing with you from the Old Testament.
“May the Lord bless and protect you; may the Lord’s face radiate with joy because of you; may he be gracious to you, show you his favor, and give you his peace.”
Numbers 6:24-26 (The Living Bible)
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
Click on the audio player above to listen to the podcast or read the transcript below.
Episode 3: May I borrow your pee? Please.
I had an image in my mind of what my first day in the Army would be like.
I imagined a drill instructor screaming at me and my fellow recruits as we got off the bus at some Army base. I’d seen that in the movies, so I was ready for my first day in the Army.
I could handle it.
There was only one problem.
That isn’t quite what happened.
MY LAST MORNING AS A CIVILIAN
I woke up early at home.
My grandmother fixed breakfast, and my brother came over to drive me to the Induction Center.
I knew it was hard on my grandmother. She had seen boys leave for World War I, World War II, and the Korean War. She had a nephew who went into the peacetime Army. My brother had gone into the Air Force, and now her youngest grandson — me — was going into the Army and probably to Vietnam.
She tried to make me feel good but I knew it had to concerning to her.
MY FIRST MORNING AS A SOLDIER
Now I could’ve taken the bus to the induction center in downtown LA but my brother came over and drove me.
That might seem like a little thing … giving someone a ride. But it meant a great deal to me.
It let me know that he cared about me and he wanted the best for me.
And I remember watching him drive away after dropping me off in front of the Induction Center and I was so appreciative of having a big brother like him.
But I also realized I was about to begin another stage in my life that would probably prove most interesting.
So, I walked into the building expecting my view of the first day in the Army.
As people arrived and filled up the area where we were supposed to wait, no one was yelling at us.
There were several people in uniform walking around and getting us lined up. They checked our names. And then they sent us into a room full of desks.
Still no one yelled at us.
They walked around with packets, set them in front of us and brought pencils and set them down on the table next to the packets and I remember the soldier in charge said, “Do not touch the pencils and do not touch the packets.”
I wanted to open my packet and fill it out quickly so I could get on to this Army life that I was going to enter. But I resisted the urge and I’m actually quite glad that I did.
Because that’s when the yelling started.
THE YELLING STARTED
The yelling was not directed at me or us as a group but was focused on individuals in that room.
Those who had somehow violated the fundamental rule and had picked up a pencil or had opened a packet and looked at what was inside.
“I told you not to open that packet,” screamed the soldier in charge.
“Did I give you permission to pick up that pencil?” another soldier screamed at an individual.
This continued for some time and I figured the men running this operation were on some kind of heavy duty power trip.
Then the man in charge told us to open our packets to page 1. It was a simple form — last name, first name, address … that kind of stuff.
And then the screaming started again.
“Did I say page two? I did not say page two. Get that back to page one right now.”
“Did I give you permission to pick up your pencil?” screamed another one.
I had almost picked up my pencil but I quickly withdrew my hand. Several other soldiers began yelling at individuals who had committed the dastardly deed.
Finally all the pencil picker uppers had been identified, corrected, and put in their place. Then our leader told us to look at block one on the form.
It said last name.
“When I tell you to pick up your pencil, you will write your last name in block one,” said the leader.
By now I had a good idea how the system worked, so I didn’t even reach for my pencil. I waited.
“Pick up your pencil and write your name in block one. Your last name in block one,” said the leader.
I wrote my last name and was tempted to fill out the rest of the form, but I knew better.
“Put your pencils down,” barked the leader.
I set my pencil on the table and waited while the soldiers running this event circulated through the room.
I was really thinking if this is what all of the soldiers in the Army were like, I was not going to like this.
“Is that block one?” screamed one of the soldiers.
“No one told you to write your first name!” screamed another.
“Who told you to touch your pencil?” screamed yet another of the soldiers.
The soldiers moved through the room stopping only to yell at anyone who had failed to follow directions … I mean orders.
It took over half an hour to fill out that simple form but as we worked through that process I realized it wasn’t just a power trip for the soldiers running this part of the induction process.
The fact is … several of the inductees were having a difficult time filling out the simple forms.
THE PEE
After the paperwork was completed we were ushered into a room for our physicals. We had needles stuck into us in order to suck out our blood. We had to cough while a someone placed their hands on our private parts.
And then it was time for the urine test. They gave each of us a container and told us to fill it with pee.
I headed into the bathroom and waited for an opening at a urinal so I could give my best shot at filling the container.
My turn came and things went well.
That’s when I heard it.
“May I borrow some of your pee?” a voice came from an inductee who approached me. “Please?”
Either he had difficulty calling up his pee on command or he knew the urine test would reveal chemicals in his body that he did not want the Army to find out about.
Even though I had plenty to share, I passed on the opportunity to share it.
Then they assembled us together in a room and we took the oath.
We were now officially in the Army.
Our first order … get on the bus.
THE TRIP TO FORT ORD
Now those on the bus were, I have to admit, a rather motley crew.
This was in the time of the draft so people from all walks of life ended up in the Army.
There were hippies, anti-war activists, military brats, people who intended to be lifers, people who were given the choice of going to jail or joining the Army, and people like me - nice, normal, everyday people.
What’s that smell?
Now I remember the ride on the bus up to Fort Ord and I have to admit I was a little naive but on that bus ride it was the very first time that I smelled marijuana. I even had to ask the person next to me what the sweet smell was.
He was a little unnerved when he told me. Like I should know this.
Apparently a whole bunch of people had decided to party the night before they went into the Army, figuring it might be their last time.
We had long haired scruffy people. We had people who looked like they were drunk. We had people who looked like they were members of the local motorcycle gang.
And we had skinny, good looking, clean cut, handsome people … you know, like me.
But the Army did something interesting.
When we got off the bus up in Fort Ord, they marched us to a place to give us our new clothes. We picked out pants, and shorts, and underwear, and shirts, and boots. They said be careful picking out the boots or we would regret it the rest of our service.
The clothes we got, well … everyone got the same thing.
We did not pick out the clothes on the basis of how they looked but just did we kind of, sort of, fit in them.
And after we had our clothes, we stuffed them into this bag called a duffle bag. And they made us carry that bag around all over the base until we reached this one building called a barber shop.
I really don’t know why they called it a barbershop. You didn’t go in and select a style. And I guess these people had been trained to be barbers, but based on their skills, their training could not have lasted more than about 30 minutes.
My barber turned on the clippers, put the clippers on my head, and ran the clippers right across the top of my head. It didn’t take him long to finish his job and I now had my first military haircut.
So, the clothes, the haircut, living together for the next two months really changed everything.
People who would never have interacted with one another over time became friends and I really enjoyed the experience.
Now I have to admit I don’t want the government choosing my clothes for me, but those first months of Army life let me see that so many of the divisions that we put up to separate ourselves from others are not all that good.
They keep us from getting to know one another.
After we got our haircuts, we were ready to start our Army experience.
Perhaps now we would get to hear the drill sergeants yelling at us.
But it was not to be.
Instead, we were told Fort Ord was full. There wasn’t any room for us.
Woah. That isn’t quite what I expected.
But I’ll tell you what happened after we were given that news in the next episode.
LESSONS
I have two lessons that I learned during this time.
(1) The first one has to do with hanging around with your own group. We hear a lot today about becoming part of a tribe, hanging around those who believe what we believe, and social media is such an example of that as we tend to only interact with those we agree with.
Well, I tell you what. If you really want to belong to a tribe, why don’t you choose to belong to the human tribe. Don’t let looks, language, different backgrounds, different races, different beliefs keep you from interacting with and seeking to understand other people.
(2) The second lesson I had during this time period was how important little things are. I still look back with great appreciation and even joy on the day my brother came to give me a ride and that little bit of time we had together.
And also I look back to the breakfast my grandmother cooked for me and how she went out of her way to try to make me feel good even when she could have been focused on her feelings. She did a nice job.
Those are my lessons for this period of my adventure in olive drab.
Until the next time, I’m Clint Morey, Specialist 4th Class, retired.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
TRANSCRIPT
Episode two.
“Bell bottoms? You can't be serious.”
Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a faraway land there was this thing that everyone dreaded.
It was called ... THE DRAFT.
Okay, maybe that’s a little over dramatic. But many people today don’t realize the draft was something all young men of my era faced.
When the Vietnam War began most people in America would have had trouble even finding Vietnam on a map. But as the war went on year after year everyone in the country became aware of what was happening there.
TV news cameras recorded actual firefights. We saw bombs exploding, villages being decimated, and soldiers being wounded and killed. War is not pretty and this was the first war that Americans could watch on a daily basis from their living rooms.
And as the casualties mounted and the number of troops increased, the draft became the primary method for filling the ranks of the troops being sent to Vietnam.
And that meant the draft wasn’t just an inconvenience. The draft now meant you might be sent to a war on the other side of the planet and you might become one of those casualties you saw on TV.
When you turned 18 your name was put in the hopper and you became eligible to be called up for military service. And you remained eligible until you reached the age of 25.
It didn’t matter if you wanted to serve.
It didn’t matter if you had other plans for your life. You know, things like marriage, career, family.
It didn’t even matter if you were famous. They got Elvis in 1958 and they tried to get Muhammad Ali in 1967.
If your name came up, you were drafted.
Period.
Unless …
And this is where things got interesting.
Because there were some things you could do to put off being drafted.
THE MEDICAL DEFERMENT
There was the medical deferment.
You could get out of the draft if there were some physical issues that would prevent you from serving in the military.
Now my dad had been 4F during World War II because he had flat feet. Even though he was a high school and college track athlete the flat feet kept him out of the draft in World War II.
During the Vietnam War era, I heard stories of people who intentionally damaged their bodies in order to receive a medical deferment.
Now I may not have been a great athlete like my dad … okay I was not a great athlete by anyone’s standard … but I was in decent physical shape.
I was definitely NOT into shooting a body part or intentionally damaging myself, so the medical deferment thing was not an option for me.
CANADA
The other big option was this thing called Canada.
Now Canada didn’t have a draft so if you moved to Canada they wouldn’t send you back to the U.S. because it wasn’t a crime in Canada to not be drafted.
Of course you couldn’t return to the U.S. because you would be breaking the law but you didn’t have to go to Vietnam.
It seemed to me, however, that the Canada option was primarily for those who were running away and didn’t want to get hurt.
The fact is, I liked being an American. I had no intention of going to another country and giving up my citizenship.
So Canada was out.
NATIONAL GUARD
Then … this is a strange one today … there was the National Guard.
Unlike recent history, when joining the National Guard meant there was a good chance you could be sent to the conflicts in the Middle East, back in my era, joining the National Guard usually meant you would not be sent to Vietnam.
Oh sure, you had to make a six-year commitment, and you had to go to weekend meetings once a month, and you had to do a two week training session each year, but you would not be going to Vietnam.
Needless to say, the National Guard became a very popular destination for many people.
And that created a problem of its own. It was so popular, there were waiting lists to get in.
I did apply to my local National Guard unit but there was a three year waiting list, so it didn’t seem to be a viable choice for avoiding the draft.
But then something happened.
For some reason, they activated a number of units in my area and sent them to Vietnam. That had to be a real bummer to those who joined the Guard to get out of the war, but it was a real benefit to those of us on the waiting list.
I received a phone call and told that I could join the National Guard! All I had to do was take the physical and if I passed I could become a part of the Guard.
I took the physical and was notified that I passed.
As I thought about it I realized I didn’t want to become a “weekend warrior” just to avoid being sent to Vietnam.
So, I told them no.
I told my friends — and myself — that I was not impressed with their professionalism because their medics did a bad job of drawing my blood for tests, and if the rest of the Guard was like that I didn’t want any part of it.
But the fact is I just did not want to go into the National Guard.
STUDENT DEFERMENT
And the there was — and this was the most common way to get out of the draft — it was called the student deferment.
A “2S.”
If you went to college you could get that “2S” deferment. And you could keep it for four years as long as you kept your grades up.
And then when your four years were up, you went back into the pool of potential draftees. The hope was … the war would be over by the time you finished your four year college degree.
After a little confusion about what I was going to do and where I was going I finally ended up in a Christian college and when I applied for my deferment I got something called a “4D” deferment.
I’d never heard of a “4D” deferment. I didn’t know what it was. But apparently it was a ministerial deferment. Since I was going to a Christian college and studying to work in the church that was the deferment I received. At the time I thought it was pretty cool. Most of my friends had “2S” deferment’s and surely something that started with a four was better than the two so I guess my “4D” was better than their “2S” but when we got together I just felt a little awkward trying to explain to them what a “4D” was. No one had any idea what that was.
It didn’t take me many explanations to realize it certainly didn’t sound fair. Just because I was going to a Bible school I should get a special deferment?
Even I didn’t think that was a fair thing to be doing. So I wrote my draft board and asked them to take away my “4D” deferment and give me a “2S” deferment.
I thought that would be great because everybody had that.
Everybody?
Well, not exactly. A number of friends didn’t go to college. It was not in their interest. It was not in their life goals. They went right into the workforce. And that made most of them a “1A” — prime targets for the draft.
As I thought about my situation I didn’t like the feeling that just because I was going to college – I enjoyed school – I should get a deferment from the draft while my friends who weren’t going to college had to be concerned if they would be drafted and sent to Vietnam.
SHOULD A CHRISTIAN SERVE IN THE MILITARY?
As a Christian, I also had to deal with the question “should a Christian serve in the military?”
You wouldn’t believe some of the advice I heard. To put it kindly, it was terrible.
I wanted to know what God would have me do and it seemed like everyone I was reading had their own agenda. And surely God wanted what they wanted.
Very few used scripture accurately to support their arguments.
Fortunately the youth pastor at my church taught me that God’s Word — the Bible — was the Christian’s standard for life.
So I read the Bible and sought to learn if God opposed military service.
I couldn’t find any teaching of that being the case so I focused my study on should I serve if drafted to be part of the military in Vietnam.
Now in the book of James the Bible says, If any of you lack wisdom you should pray to God who will give it to you because God gives generously and graciously to all. That’s in James 1:5.
I definitely needed wisdom so I began to pray.
WHICH BRANCH?
As I prayed and watched the news of the day unfold around me, I thought perhaps I should join the military instead of waiting to be drafted.
If I took that route, I had to decide which branch of service I would join.
So I went to the recruiters offices. I picked up the pretty full color brochures. I talked to all my friends who were in various branches of the service.
THE AIR FORCE
Now my brother had been in the Air Force and as much as I liked to follow in my brother’s footsteps, the Air Force had a couple of problems.
First, their uniforms were — I don’t know how to say this nicely to you Air Force vets — but the Air Force uniforms were dorky. Blue just didn’t look right. In fact their uniforms looked more like business suits.
And then there was the mission. I mean if you’re in the Air Force aren’t you supposed to fly? Well I knew I couldn’t be a pilot. Aside from the fact that I wasn’t a college graduate I also had terrible eye sight. I think it was 20/200. So, what in the world would I do in the Air Force if I wasn’t in a plane?
But that wasn’t the kicker.
If I joined the Air Force I would have to sign up for four years. Four years to me sounded like a lifetime.
So the Air Force was out.
I was back in the hunt.
THE NAVY
Next on my list was the Navy. I loved the documentary “Victory at Sea.” I think you can probably go online and see it on YouTube or something.
I’d seen a number of movies about the Navy. I had friends who were in the Navy and they seemed to enjoy the experience.
I knew the Navy would probably not be fighting in Vietnam unless, of course, I was on a river boat.
So I had to consider. Would I actually be fighting for my country if I didn’t do any fighting?
But those weren’t the real issues in my look at the Navy.
Even with bad eyesight, there was a good chance I would be assigned to serve on board a ship.
That meant I would be floating around on the water. Or even worse, under the water if you were assigned to a submarine. And that was a problem.
Now let me give you a little personal background. My grandfather had a sailboat and a couple of times he took my brother and I out to Catalina Island which is 26 miles across the sea.
When we left the harbor in Southern California and hit the open ocean, I was pretty sure we were going to die because of the bad weather.
My grandfather, on the other hand, complained it was too calm. He, after all had been raised in Boston and was used to sea sailing. Well, it wasn’t any fun for him to sail in such calm weather.
Here’s the deal. I got sick. Sea sick. And I have to let you know I did not like getting sea sick.
But that wasn’t the kicker.
Now don’t make fun of me.
My main complain against the Navy was — their uniform.
Oh, the color was fine and it didn’t look like a business suit, but …
They wore bell bottoms.
I know I’m a child of the 60’s and bell bottoms were in, but I look weird in bell bottoms.
There was no way I was going to go into a branch of the service that required me to wear bell bottoms.
So, back to the hunt.
THE MARINES
The next branch of service I checked out was the Marine Corps. I have to admit I was excited about this one. They had a number of pluses.
First one.
They had the best brochure of any of the branches. I know that sounds weak. But they did have beautiful color pictures, great looking brochures, and I would look at those pictures over and over and over again.
And then …
They had the best looking dress uniform anyone could want to have.
And no bell bottoms.
And there were lots of war movies growing up that I had watched that highlighted the work of the Marines during World War II.
And, of course, one of my favorite movies, “The D.I.” starring Jack Webb about training during peace time was fascinating.
I had several friends who were Marines. And they were sold on it. To them there wasn’t any other branch of service worth belonging to.
And — this was important — they had a two year enlistment program.
So I decided the Marine Corps was the answer. I went down to the local recruiting office with a friend, filled out some papers, took written tests, and waited.
It wasn’t long before I received a call from the recruiter and I headed back to the recruiting office to close the deal.
But then the recruiter told me I scored too high on the test to be admitted into the two year program.
He pointed out that I could go into a three year program where I would receive training in a specialty and he assured me that this was much choice.
Otherwise I would just be a rifleman.
I tried to explain to him that I was joining because I wanted to be a rifleman. He said I wouldn’t be happy doing that but I would be very happy if I signed up for a three year or a four year enlistment where I would be taught a great skill.
So, the Marine Corps was out.
That didn’t leave me many options but I had soured on the enlisting route.
If I waited to be drafted and I knew I would be going into the Army but that was okay. They didn’t wear bell bottoms either.
As I was thinking about my short range future, the government changed the rules.
Politicians recognized that the draft system of my day was not fair, and most of those politicians liked getting re-elected, you know, so they came up with a new approach.
Actually it wasn’t a new approach. It was an old approach that had been used in World War I and World War II but it was new to the people of my age.
THE LOTTERY
The government changed to a lottery system for selecting draftees.
They would randomly select birth dates and give you a number based on that selection. You would be drafted based upon that number.
And you were eligible to be drafted for only one year.
If you weren’t drafted in that year then you were free and clear for the rest of your life.
As you might imagine, the day they held the lottery — December 1, 1969 — a lot of people paid attention.
Well, they did their drawing.
The experts said they didn’t think they would draft much beyond the first 150 numbers.
My lottery number? My birthdate came up with the lotter number of 202.
So it looked like I was in the clear.
If the experts were right I would not be drafted.
I could go about my plans for life and ignore the Vietnam War.
Everything seemed to be settled.
Except …
This was the war of my generation. I believed fighting Communism was the right thing both for our country and for the people in Vietnam.
And so I made a decision.
I wrote to my local draft board and I volunteered my draft. Basically I said, forget the lottery number. If they wanted to draft me they could.
They wanted to and I shortly received my letter from the draft board inviting me to join the United States Army.
THE LESSONS
Looking back on this time period, there were a couple of important lessons.
The first was …
Lesson #1: Don’t make important decisions for stupid reasons.
Selecting a branch of service based upon what I thought of their uniforms was really stupid.
That’s not a good reason for an important decision like that. And besides even if I had gone into the Navy, maybe I would have learned to like bell bottoms.
Kidding aside, so often when we have important decisions to make we make them based on really terrible reasons.
So think back and decide when you make important decisions if the reasons you’re giving yourself or others is really worthwhile.
Lesson #2: When you ask God for wisdom about a decision, listen to what He says.
I had prayed and asked for God’s direction concerning the draft and during that time I had the opportunity to join the National Guard but I turned it down.
During that time I also had the opportunity to participate in the lottery and my number was too high to be drafted. But I didn’t accept that.
Either one of those options would have been very reasonable answers. I was asking God for wisdom and He had given me two options that not going into the military might have been His will for me.
But neither one of those — the National Guard or the Lottery — were the answers that I wanted.
So I went my own way.
That really is an important lesson.
When you ask God for wisdom or direction and He gives it to you, do what He says.
Don’t go your own way.
THE NEXT EPISODE
I thought I was ready for what the military would be like.
Well, I was wrong on that score.
Has anyone ever asked you if they could borrow your pee?
I had never been asked that before until my first day in the United States Army.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
Click on the audio player above to hear the podcast or read the transcript below.
Transcript
Episode 1
“Baby Boomers Wanted”
Growing up I used to think of myself as just a common, regular, ordinary guy. But as I got older I found out I was something special … very, very special.
So special in fact that demographers – whatever they were – came up with a name to describe me.
They called me a baby boomer.
Now that meant I was one of those kids born shortly after World War II. There were a little over 70 million of us.
Okay, maybe we weren’t all that special.
But we happened to be hanging around having a good time when that Vietnam War thing started.
That war went on year after year after year and the country realized they needed soldiers.
Lots and lots of soldiers.
The politicians looked around and there we were — the Baby Boomers.
We were the perfect choice to fill the ranks in the military.
BEING A BABY BOOMER
Now before I tell you how they got us I should give you a little background about what being a Baby Boomer meant to me.
Now we Baby Boomers were the very first generation in history that grew up with the babysitter of all babysitters — television.
I’m old enough to remember the first TV set that arrived on our block.
We went over to a neighbor’s house to look at it in operation. The screen was small but it was also magical.
It wasn’t long before we got one of those those little boxes for our ourselves. We set it in the living room and readjusted the furniture so everyone could look at it at the same time.
We not only adjusted the furniture but we also adjusted our lives because if there was a program you wanted to watch you had to do it on their schedule, not yours.
So, like many in my generation, my mind was filled with Howdy Doody, the Lone Ranger, Rin Tin Tin, the Mouseketeers, Zoro, My Three Sons, Our Miss Brooks, the Cisco Kid, and Mr. Ed, to name just a few.
But my babysitter did something else, and this is important for my story.
Through movies, documentaries, sitcoms, and dramas my babysitter gave me the impression that my country’s military was a force for good.
It had saved us from enemies seeking to destroy the world during Word War II and it now stood as a sentinel to protect us from the very real enemy that was seeking to destroy us in the present day — Communism.
Movies like Sergeant York, Casablanca, Yankee Doodle Dandy, Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, Twelve O’Clock High, Mr. Roberts, and The D.I. gave a very positive image of our country.
TV shows like West Point Story or Annapolis Story, Francis the Talking Mule, No time for Sergeants, Operation Petticoat, McCale’s Navy, Hogan’s Heroes and Combat did the same.
I still drop by YouTube sometimes to check out old episodes of the Phil Silver’s Show just to see what Sgt. Bilko is up to.
My point?
By the time I graduated from high school, my babysitter had shown me scores and scores of movies and TV shows about the military, and I learned that our military was good and our country was good.
THE MUSHROOM CLOUD
There was another thing we Baby Boomers became aware of as we grew up.
We were the very first generation raised with this thing called “global nuclear war.” It wasn’t just a theoretical idea. It was a reality.
We had the bomb.
And so did they.
My babysitter made sure I saw pictures of above ground nuclear tests on TV.
Specially constructed towns were filled with mannequins and we watched Mrs. Mannequin serve breakfast to Mr. Mannequin and her two children — boy mannequin and girl mannequin.
What can I say?
Back then we thought there were just boys and girls.
We heard the countdown, and then we heard the explosion, and saw the wind from the atomic blast level their home, their fictitious town, obliterating everything, leaving only the mushroom cloud.
This Baby Boomer — me — realized I could be vaporized in just a few seconds.
That thought was reinforced in our monthly nuclear attack drills.
You heard me right.
I lived in L.A. which was considered a prime target of a Russian nuclear attack and every month the warning sirens would ring throughout the city.
Radio stations joined the test, broadcasting instructions they would give if it were a real nuclear attack.
Now in elementary school not only did we have fire drills and earthquake drills — I did live in L.A. remember — but we also had nuclear attack drills.
We huddled under our desks and were told how to position ourselves away from the windows and never to look at the blast, otherwise our eyes might melt right in their sockets.
Then there were the bomb shelters.
Now we lived in a poor neighborhood so no one I knew was able to build a bomb shelter for protection from a nuclear attack. Or if they did, they didn’t let us know about it.
But I had read the book Hiroshima by John Hersey and I wasn’t sure surviving a nuclear attack was that great of an option.
And where would this attack come from?
There was no question.
The Russians.
The Soviets made it very clear they were going to spread their vision of Communism throughout the world even if that meant a conflict with the United States.
I can remember the Cuban Missile Crises when we thought nuclear war was a very real possibility.
The local grocery stores had been cleaned out because people were preparing for the attack.
A LITTLE HISTORY
As I grew up I developed a love of history.
One of the things I noticed in my studies is that people, we humans, had this penchant for engaging in wars.
Wars were not an unusual activity.
Even in America wars seemed to be a part of life.
Before we became a country there was the French and Indian War.
Less than a decade later there was the American Revolution.
The next generation had to deal with the War of 1812.
There was a war with the Barbary Pirates. There were Indian wars, the Mexican War, the Civil War, the Spanish American War, World War I, World War II, the Korean War, and the war of my generation — the Vietnam War.
It seemed that just about every generation had to deal with a war.
And some had to deal with multiple wars in their lifetime.
War just is not an unusual activity.
And here I was about to graduate from high school and the war of my generation was being fought.
Did that mean it was my turn to go to war?
LESSONS FROM MY DAYS IN OLIVE DRAB
Right now I’d like to share a lesson from my time before I got my official olive drab outfit from the United States Army.
The lesson is …
be careful what you choose to fill your mind with.
The news, the music, the literature, the movies, the social media that you consume will impact your world view. It will help form what you think is right or wrong, helpful or harmful, good or evil.
In today’s world especially, consider what stories you’re putting into your mind. What are you letting shape your beliefs and your value system?
The Bible tells us …
“Finally brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable … if anything is excellent or praiseworthy think about such things.”
Philippians 4:8
Look at what you are choosing to put into your mind.
Does it meet God’s standards?
IN THE NEXT EPISODE
Okay.
In the next episode I’m going to share with you how the government got us Baby Boomers to become part of the military.
I’ll give you a hint.
For many it was this thing called the draft.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com
Episode 0 - Introduction to the podcast
I’m moving my podcast “Don’t Play With Things That Go Boom” to this Substack account and hope you find it enjoyable.
For those of you who have listened to the podcast on Anchor or one of the podcasts hosts (Apple, Spotify, etc.) I apologize for being a little less than regular on releasing episodes. I will try to be better in the future.
I’m going to start back at the beginning of the podcast which means this is Episode 0 - the Introduction.
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This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clintmorey.substack.com