CHAPTER 1

MY TIME INBASIC TRAINING

MY INDUCTION INTO THE ARMY

There were many things that contributed to getting me into the U.S. Army Flight School and thus my year in Vietnam.

First of all I was a student in college and had a "2S" deferment thatkept me out of the draft. But sometime, I am not sure of even themonth, in 1967 the Army started drafting college students if theirgrades were not above 2.5, mine was just below. One day, three busloads of Gannon College students were "shipped" to Buffalo, NewYork for their pre-induction physical. Guess what ... I passed thephysical.

I had figured that I would be going to Vietnam, but I had hopedto join the military after I received my degree. The following year(1968) I received a phone call from the secretary of the Erie draftboard whom I had known for a couple of years. She told me thatmy name had appeared on the new list of draftees and that shecould delay my induction letter for a couple days but no longer, itwould have to be mailed. That would give me the opportinity toeither move to Canada to avoid the draft or to enlist and possiblyreceive any training that I would want to be trained.

That day I went down to the Army recruiter and signed upfor helicopter flight training school, but I would have to goback to Buffalo to take and pass the F.A.S.T. (Flight AptitudeStandardization Test). The test was scheduled for a couple dayslater. I was told, I would have to pass the F.A.S.T. test and a flightphysical before I would be officially admitted to the flight trainingprogram.

Three days later I received my draft notice. My induction/draftwould be superseded by the contract I signed with the recruiter, butif I failed to get into flight school or if I failed to complete flightschool the Army would have the option to place me wherever theyneeded me. Because of the Vietnam War, it was almost guaranteedthat it would be in the Infantry! One thing that I knew was that ifI went to Vietnam for a year it would be a great deal easier sittingand flying above the mud than trudging through it!

I passed the F.A.S.T. test and I left for basic training at Fort Polk,Louisianna the week after Thanksgiving 1968.

BASIC TRAINING—JUSTTHE BEGINNING OF IT ALL

After enlisting in the Army and passing the F.A.S.T. test; I wasintroduced to Army life at Fort Polk, Louisiana late in November1968, North Fort Polk to be exact. To get to basic training, I flewout of Erie and into Shreeveport, Louisana and took a bus to FortPolk. There at the airport in Shreveport, I learned my first goodlesson, `never dare anyone anything or bet anyone anything whilein the Army'. You will LOSE.

I was sitting at a small four stool counter at the ShreeveportAirport having breakfast. A kid sat down beside me who wasalso heading to basic training. While waiting for his breakfast tobe served, a cockroach ran across the counter. "Swoosh" went hisarm as he caught the quickly scurrying insect. He said, holding it'ssquiggling body between his thumb and index finger, "Give mefive bucks if I eat `im?", in his slow southern drawl. "Sure", I said,knowing he wouldn't.

Gulp! Crunch! It was gone and I was five dollars lighter as hecrunched and chewed. That five dollar bill saved me a great dealof money throughout my stint in the Army. That was quite a bitof money to me at that moment. I knew then, that there wouldalways be somebody who would be willing to do almost anythingfor a little money. I was not in the Army yet and had alreadylearned something valuable that morning.

The first thing I learned from the induction cadre at Fort Polk,was that if the world ever needed an enema, it would be insertedat Fort Polk. I never learned anything while I was at the Fort thatchanged my mind. Most of the basic training was done at "SouthFort", only two basic training companies were located at NorthFort about seven miles away. All of the Advanced Infantry Trainingwas at "North Fort". I was sent to North Fort, for basic. I didn'tknow what it meant for me but a group of the guys really didn'tlike it. We were miles away from the main PX and movie theater.The meager "North" base had little amenities to offer, maybe thatwas it. It really didn't make a difference to me, we didn't have `baseprivileges' anyway.

I was assigned to Basic Training Company C-3-2 (Company C, 3rdBattalion, 2nd Training Brigade). It wasn't the most fun experienceto start my military career with but I did have a reasonably "good"time. At times I actually had fun. The first morning, I woke upand was officially welcomed into "Basic Training". I stood in thecompany area in formation at 5:00 AM. They began teaching usall of basic Army things, like: how to get into formation, when,where and how to stand, who to call what, how to salute and amillion other little things that would soon become automatic.You either did it or had a drill instructor "in your face". It wasn'tanything difficult, but I was amazed to see so many guys not ableor unwilling to follow simple instructions. Their failure madeit easier on me since the drill instructors were constantly busyelsewhere.

A few mornings later when we were in formation our senior drillinstructor, Sergent Brewton, yelled out to the whole company."Any one that knows how to drive a truck, fall out of formationand fall in, in front of me". I had driven trucks for United ParcelDelivery Service back in Erie, PA and before I knew it even thoughI was in the last rank, I was the second guy to fall in in front ofthe formation. I don't even remember making the decision to goup front but there I was. I had been told by everyone I had metin the Army, "Don't volunteer for anything". There I was at thefirst opportunity, volunteering. All I thought of was that if I wasdriving a truck, I was not walking or marching and that soundedgood to me.

A total of six of us volunteered, he selected five to go down to"South Fort Polk" to take their military drivers test, I was one. Hesaid they needed four drivers to take turns driving vehicles for thetraining company, that way no one individual would miss a greatdeal of training. We were shipped down to the drivers testing areato take our test. There was an eye test, a written test and a drivingtest. Not suprising to me, we all passed the eye and written test.Then we went outside to take our driving "skills test".

We started with jeeps. One of the guys ran over an orange coneand then flattened a stop sign and he quickly flunked the drivingtest. We were down to four. We then drove a pick-up truck, thoseof us that were left did fine. Now it was time for the "Deuce and aHalf" (2 ½ Ton) the diesel engined large utility truck. I had neverdriven a truck that large or anything with a diesel engine or airbrakes. I knew that they were different to start and shut down andyou had to let the engine warm up before driving. The air brakes? Ididn't know, but I didn't think they were a major problem, at leastI hoped they wouldn't be.

The one trainee of the four of us left was told to get into thetruck. The staff sergeant was firing questions about the truck anddriving situations at him rapid fire, I assumed just to pressure hima little. In his first turn he drove over an orange cone, a couple ofturns later he did it again to another, then he missed a stop signcompletely. He was done and he drove off the course withoutfinishing it.

The next trainee didn't do much better. They soon came backto the loading dock where he had started and the sergeant wasscreaming at the driver trainee and how the recruit was trying todemolish "his" truck and "his" driving course.

The third trainee seemed to do okay but when he was done heagain was being chewed out by the sergeant. I was the last oneand instead of listening to him scream, I went over and climbedinto the cab of the truck so I could familiarize myself with thedashboard.

I knew you had to turn on the electric and fuel separately on adiesel engine and I quickly tried to look over everything. I foundthe gas and turned it on, I soon found the electric and turned iton but there was no starter integrated in the switch, it must havea separate starter switch elsewhere but where? I looked everywhereand couldn't find it. I was flipping and turning everything,anything that would move and even tried several things thatwouldn't move.

Then I remembered that a friend of mine from High School hada 1948 Jeepster and the starter was a spring loaded floor buttonthat was mounted on top of the transmission under the dashboard.I quickly and almost desparately, reached my foot up under thedash and the engine sprang to life. This was completed just as thered faced sergeant climed into the passenger seat of the truck. Thefirst thing he said was, "It looks as if at least one of you guys knowwhat you are doing".

I kept quiet and just looked straight forward and he said, "Okay,don't just sit there you can go". So I put it into gear and off wewent. I drove around the track and had no major problems. Tofinish the course I had to back up the truck to the dock. I did soand as soon as I stopped he got out and I heard him say to theguys standing on the dock, "At least someone knows what theyare doing." Meanwhile, I was trying to turn off the engine to thetruck. I turned off the electricity, but it kept running, What was Imissing? Again, I felt a bit stupid.

Just as I remembered the fuel switch he opened the door and askedme what I was waiting for? I told him he didn't tell me to turn thetruck off and get out yet so I didn't know if the test was over. Hesaid that it was. I turned off the fuel switch and the engine becamequiet. I heard him say to the other guys, "Finally today, there's oneof you guys who knows how to listen for instructions."

Whew ... I "snuck" by that one. Now, I just hoped I didn't hurtanyone while I was driving that large monster. Only two out of thefive of us received our military license.frank's Military Driver's license

BASIC TRAINING—MY `BASIC' ROUTINEWAS A BIT DIFFERENT FROMTHE OTHERS

Daily routine for the trainees were: Up at 0500, physical training(PT) at 0530, breakfast at 0630, 0700-1200 morning training andtransportation if needed, lunch, 1230-1630 afternoon trainingand transportation if needed back to the company area, 1700afternoon PT, dinner, often 1 hour of instruction and/or cleaningthe barracks. After an hour of free time and lights out at 2200.They were very rigid in their time allocation.

Since only two of us received our military drivers license, I drovemuch more than I had expected. The other kid who passed hisdriver's test had a small accident and a couple of near ones whiledriving some of the company staff around; so although he stilldrove a little, as time went on I did more and more of the driving.Most of the time, I drove a pickup truck or a ¾ ton truck withan olive green tarp. Occasionally though I drove the "deuce and ahalf" which was especially fun when driving it cross country.

It wasn't all fun though. During basic training we were normallyawakened at 0500 and lights out was at 2200. But, I had to getup an hour earlier so that I could sign out of the company in theorderly room, and walk almost a mile to the motor pool. Being themilitary I had to inspect the truck, report any existing damage andthen sign for the vehicle. I had to sign back into the company areaby the time physical training started before breakfast. I soon foundthat the truck paperwork didn't always flow smoothly so I oftenmissed a large part of that morning physical training. I really, reallyfelt bad about that but military rigors can be trying at times.

For the most part I drove the safety truck that would carry water,extra training staff, and a basic trainee or two, if they were injuredthat day. We marched to the firing ranges, the gas chamber, andhad several 10-15 mile marches with packs. Unfortunately, I wasunable to experience that. Well, someone had to drive the safetytruck!

After training, I was required to take the truck back to the motorpool, wash it and have it inspected by someone from the motorpool staff. Not a problem but it did take some time. It becametime I quickly learned to enjoy. I was by myself with no trainingstaff around. It was just time to relax; then a quiet one mile walkback to the training company also by myself. By the time I signedback into the company, late physical training was over and the guyswere finishing their dinner, and being moved out for their eveningharasement before they had some free time on their bunk to relaxand/or write a letter home.

I ate last and often had a nice quiet dinner by myself. No oneseemed to watch as to how fast I returned to the company areaafter dropping off the truck, so I often walked back a bit slowerthan I could have but I figured that since I was getting up an hourearlier than anyone else ... I deserved some "free" time. "Well,didn't I"?

Then, one day after returning, I was sitting on my bunk andSergeant Brewton came into the barraks during our "free" time.He never did that in the evening. He usually spent his eveningsand nights at home with his family. There were five other drillinstructors that took over in the evenings. We all stood at attentionat the end of our bunks facing the center of the room. Somethingwas on his mind. He was yelling at almost everyone about justabout anything then he walked in front of me and stopped.

He got right in my face and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Whatthe hell did you do now, Strobel? The CO (Commanding Officer)wants to see you ... NOW! GO ... RUN!" ... and I did. I hadto be in trouble for something. We never saw the CO. He didn'twaste his time with the recruits. Maybe someone noticed myevening strolls back to the company area. I ran into the orderlyroom and the clerk just shook his head, looked down at the papershe was working on and told me to go into the CO's office. I wasobviously in for it, for something.

I walked into his office and up to his desk and reported. Withoutlooking up he said in a loud voice, "Strobel, what day is today?"I had no idea what one day was from the next. Everyday was justlike the next, I was just "going with the flow". He told me to lookat his calendar, one of those one day at a time block calendars. Isaid, it's February 10th. Now, I realized it was my birthday but thatshouldn't make any difference to him. He pointed to a box on atable across the room and said, "Take it, it's yours. Now get out ofhere." It was a white bakery box. It was a birthday cake. I was surethat it was not the norm for the CO to acknowledge a recruit'sbirthday, much less give him a cake,

My mother had called a bakery off the base and ordered a 1/2sheet birthday cake for me. That was not an easy thing to do in1969, rural Louisiana. My CO had to write a letter to my mom,telling her that it was delivered to me which I am sure he didn'tappreciate. I carried it back to the barracks, wondering what I wasgoing to do with this huge cake. Sergeant Brewton was still in thebarracks when I returned. He smiled and handed me his personalknife saying this cake is to be gone by lights out and everythingcleaned up.

No forks or plates but everyone received a piece of cake in theirhands and everyone signed a thank you note to my mom. Momalways came through!

I got to know all of the training staff. Most had just returnedfrom Vietnam and were waiting for either a school assignment ordischarge orders. They all had served in Vietnam in the infantry,some had been wounded but were happy to share their very recentexperience with me. I absorbed quite a bit extra "training" whiledriving. Often the stories were interesting or funny but just asoften, sobering. Sometimes the stories seemed embellished but Ifigured that they were entitled. After spending some time, a yearlater in Vietnam, I realized that they were more than likely notexagerated.