You must have been very cute. :p
I was never been in the Boy Scouts, but I am not really a joiner, Although I have many friends, some from grammar school, I am generally not a joiner. I prefer to do things on my own, hence my Steam Punk things. :D
I also did not go to college. I probably could have but I was drafted as soon as I turned 19.
That was the best event in my life because if I had not gotten drafted and gone to college, instead of becoming an electrician, I may have been an electrical engineer making half my salary, working twice the hours and still being working because like most office jobs, they don't get a pension or have a retirement plan :rolleyes:
Even in the Army, I did my own thing. I was a Sargent in Nam attached to a field artillery battery but I was the only one who was "not" artillery. I was the Commo Chief so when we moved the LZ (which we did 14 times) I set up the communications which were radios that needed antenna's installed and we needed a wire connected to each of the 6 artillery guns so they could aim and fire them.
When we would take incoming (the enemy bombing us) Which happened constantly, I would crawl out there and splice the wires together in the mud so we could fire.
When we took a ground probe (the enemy running out of the jungle in mass to over run us) I would either help on a gun (howitzer) because our guys were getting wounded or killed or I would run to the perimeter to "help" there so the enemy didn't get into our firebase which they did once. It didn't fare to well for them.
But after I got everything running and it didn't seem like we would get attacked I had a friend with a helicopter and We would grab some "Wild Turkey" which I think is bourbon, and fly to different firebases to trade things or meet old friends.
This was all in the jungle as I never came out of it until came home.
I loved flying even though I was in 2 crashes. Not when I was steering ;Bucktooth
My friend taught me how to fly the thing, which is very easy and I did my thing.
Of course I was not supposed to fly it and he was always with me. I also did not know how to start it, take off or land so it was like if you are in a 1969 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser and someone asks you to steer for a while.
I also couldn't "auto rotate" which you need to know in a war and because he knew how to do that, I am here today.
I once crashed in this little LOH. (Light observation Helicopter) and when the engine stops, for whatever reason, the pilot can make the thing fall very fast, then engage the rotors to allow for a "slower"
landing (crash) Because of PTSD I don't remember the exact cause or result but it must have been fine, because I am here. :rolleyes:
PTSD which I didn't realize I had, is a weird thing. In my case it caused a few odd things but one thing it did was cause me to forget traumatic events of the war, which is a good thing.
The VA psychiatrist told me thats where my creativity may have come from as it makes your mind work differently. (Think reverse UG filter) ;Meh
I barely remember that crash or another one involving a much larger Chinook Helicopter, and also Thank God I hardly remember what I did in that battle I was in which was supposed to be the 6th bloodiest battle of either the war or that year. I forget.
I was awarded two Bronze Stars for Valor so at least I hope I wasn't hiding under a sand bag. :rolleyes: But I am sure for some of the time, I was.
That 6 hour battle totally eludes me and that memory is just not there except for the very beginning and very end.
I don't know where I was going with this but you must have made a great Boy Scout. :)
I did manage to see some red tailed sharks in a bomb crater there, for some stupid reason, I remember that. But those little fish were not to ferocious. Maybe they were but my PTSD removed that too. ;)
I do remember one thing from after the battle. This guy Ed was one of the first injured and his injuries were very severe. So severe that when the medivac helicopter came to take out wounded, we didn't put him on the chopper as we didn't think he would make it and the thing was over loaded.
The pilot said, lets try one more, so we put Ed on. The helicopter, which was a Huey, couldn't take off as it was overweighted.
The pilot yelled for us to lift the skids and run which a bunch of us did. It worked and they flew, barely, over the trees.
He took off and I never heard from him again.
Until about 10 or 15 years ago.
I got a call. It was from Ed. He was in a hospital dying of Agent Orange cancer caused cancer.
He managed to live, get married and have two Daughters.
He wanted to know who saved him and dug him out from under many or our dead GIs.
I knew it was our First Sargent. He was a very tough, black guy almost 7' tall. Actually the toughest guy I have ever met.
Ed told me all he could remember after the blast (which was about 40 tons of artillery shells exploding from a rocket) that all he remembered was being buried and he saw the biggest black guy he had ever seen throwing bodies off him and carrying him to safety.
Here is that story about Ed Collins if you are interested. I posted something after this story on there about Ed
http://we-were-soldiers.com/2017/07/ed-collins/
