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“Come on back and we’ll get you a cup. All I have is condensed milk—otherwise it’s black, but fresh,” Master Sergeant Jackson indicated as he limped down the hall.
“Are you okay?” Dan inquired, noticing the limp.
“Yeah, I took a round on the end of my last tour. Got medically boarded out of the infantry and was given an option to medically retire with only fifty percent or take an MOS change, so I took the MOS transfer to admin. It’s okay, although I do miss being in the field, with real soldiers. No disrespect meant, sir,” Jackson added.
“None taken, Master Sergeant. And condensed milk will be just fine. My dad is former Navy enlisted and would take me on his submarine when he had weekend duty. We drank coffee, and I came to develop a taste for condensed milk,” Dan explained.
“What’s your daddy do now?”
“He’s still in the Navy, only now he’s a commissioned officer. He was here in Saigon while I was on my last tour and rotated a week before me to take command of a Navy base in Coos Bay, Oregon.”
“You both were over here at the same time. I didn’t think that was allowed,” Master Sergeant Jackson mumbled.
“It is unless a request is submitted by one to be sent home. Neither of us requested it. Pissed Mom off, but…” Dan added.
They arrived at the master sergeant’s desk, where he took a seat and motioned for Dan to sit down. Master Sergeant Jackson decided it was time to ask the nature of this visit. “So, sir, what brings you through my door besides the smell of coffee?”
“Well, I just arrived back in-country with orders to the division. I want to get an infantry assignment and thought I would get over here before the other RLOs that came in on my flight show up,” Dan explained.
“You just got back in-country? How long have you been gone? Those aren’t new fatigues, and I do believe I can still see red clay from this area in them seams,” the master sergeant said.
“I’ve been gone about four months to attend the Infantry Officers’ Basic Course because I was a warrant officer and received a commission back in May. Now I want to get an infantry assignment. Thought I best get back here quick before everyone goes home.”
“Sir, I hate to tell you, but you’re a day late and a nickel short. We aren’t filling any vacant infantry officer positions. In fact, we’re excess infantry officers. Anyone new coming in is being put on shit details, counting CONEX containers and supply issues, or being transferred out and doing convoy security missions up north. Not something most officers signed up for. The infantry battalions are standing down and will begin rotating home in about three weeks. I’m not sure why you were sent here. I think only the 101st is leaving a brigade up north in the central highlands, and we’re leaving Third Brigade down here in Three Corps, but they’re over-strength infantry officers now.”
“No, I sure as hell don’t want to be on shit details. Infantry Branch didn’t tell me this when I begged to get back here to the division,” Dan said in disgust, not divulging that it had sort of been indicated that this could happen to him.
“Word is that infantry officers being assigned to Eye and Two Corps are being assigned to transportation companies,” the master sergeant stated.
“What for?” Dan asked.
“Seems they’re running convoys through a lot of ambushes up that way, so they’re assigning infantry officers to organize convoy security. They’ve been taking deuce-and-a-halfs and mounting quad and dual .50-calibers on the beds and making them gun trucks dispersed through the convoy for secur
ity,” the master sergeant went on to explain. He looked up from his coffee. “You’re a pilot, right, sir?” he asked, indicating the aviation wings on Dan’s uniform.
“Yeah,” Dan said.
“Sir, I can keep you off shit details. We’re cutting four aviation units loose and reassigning them to the First Aviation Brigade. Three are lift companies and the other an attack company. Are you Cobra qualified?” he asked.
“No, just UH-1 qualified.”
“Well, then, if you don’t want to be on shit details, I can put you back in the cockpit. You’ll leave the division when the transfer occurs, but you’ll be flying and not counting CONEX containers.”
“That beats the alternative, I guess. What unit is it that’s being left behind?”
“The attack company is Delta, 227th. The lift companies are from the 227th Assault Helicopter Battalion. You familiar with those?” he asked.
“Oh yeah,” Dan said with a suppressed smile. “I was in Alpha Company.”
“I’ll clear it with the major and have your orders ready around noon to send you back to them if you want. You can go by Supply and get your field gear and some new uniforms, skip in-country school and fly out this afternoon to your unit. It’s at Lai Khe, wherever that is.”
“I know it well, Master Sergeant. And thanks.”
Chapter 9
Good Old Days
When it rains, it pours. Monsoons in Vietnam were seldom matched anywhere in the world. Nothing stayed dry. Dampness permeated everything. Why go to the company showers? Just step out of your hooch before the rain stops. What was really nasty was the mud created by the intense rain. The tarmac was covered in metal sheets or a diesel oil/tar mixture, so the mud wasn’t bad there. All the aircraft sat on metal sheets inside the revetments.
