David E. Bush
483rd TC Det.
12/65-12/66
281st Combat Assault Aviation Company
Fort Benning, Georgia
as
recalled by Sergeant First Class David E. Bush, U.S. Army (Retired
I had just gotten back to the States from Ethiopia in around May 1965 and was assigned to Fort Dix, New Jersey. Even though it was relatively close to my hometown in Maryland, the stateside army was not what I wanted or needed at that time. It was early fall 1965 when I entered the personnel office. A Specialist Fifth Class was just coming out of an office muttering that he needed three volunteers for “a restricted area overseas.” I had no idea what that meant, but I quickly advised him that he actually now only needed two volunteers, because I wanted to be one of the three. He found me acceptable for the assignment and I went back to my unit to back my bags. He’d said my orders would be to me in a few days.
After a short leave in Maryland, I reported in at Fort Benning and the 281st. I was one of the early birds in the unit when it was forming. 1SG Cooley was still a Sergeant First Class at the time and serving as acting first sergeant. He asked me what I knew about morning reports. I knew nothing, but since I could type I was initially stuck with the job. That only lasted until a qualified company clerk arrived. I can’t remember who the company commander was at the time. I’m sure I met him, but officers weren’t of interest to me at that point in my career. 1SG Cooley then advised me to study the regulations on postal delivery because I was going to be the unit mail clerk. After taking the test at the base Post Office, that became my full time position.
I can’t remember the names of any of the streets where the unit was at Fort Benning. I do recall that the Army Airborne School was to the unit’s right rear, and the club was to the right, as you stood facing our unit barracks from the East. They were not the old World War II billets like I’d been stationed in on most bases during my brief career. As I recall, they were three story buildings with open bays at both ends and cadre rooms in the hallway along with latrines. I can’t recall for sure, but I think you had to be in grade E6 and above to rate a cadre room. Junior enlisted lived in the bays in double-stacked bunks. Footlockers were at each end of the bunk with wall lockers against the walls. The barracks had tiled (light green and white?) floors I think.
Fort Benning was going through a lot of change then. The 1st Cavalry Division had just shipped out and other units were in the process for forming up to be shipped out. Units that were preparing to leave had out their scrounges trying to secure anything that might be of use to their unit in Vietnam. Our key scrounge once came back with a conex full of camo ascots. I think I still have one of them somewhere. I believe they were later traded for something else. This was basically the day-to-day routine in the early beginning while awaiting personnel to arrive at the unit. The only unit details I can remember that there were were the CQ and CQ runner. I don’t recall there being any guard or KP duties.
With the 1st Cav having just shipped out, there were more horny women in the area of the base that anyone could hope for. It was so bad that they would call the CQ at the barracks at night and try to get him to arrange dates for them. If you went to the club, you didn’t have to worry about picking someone up, you had to pay attention to who was trying to pick you up. I can remember a couple of times that women showed up in the parking lot and took anybody they could find that would deal with them. It was totally unreal. The only other place I ever found like that was when I was in recruiting school at Fort Benjamin Harrison. If a guy couldn’t get laid at Fort Benning during that period, there was no hope for him.
Phoenix City, Alabama held an attraction for some of us. It, at the time, was called “The Sin City of the South.” Whatever your vice, it was available in Phoenix City. Many, many GIs spent time in jail in that town. I recall that I was there one night (I was due to go home on leave the next day for Christmas leave 1965). The city had a law against anyone sitting at a table with their head touching the table. I was stewed to the gills, and had apparently nodded off. The police had been summoned and were coming through the doors to get me when someone in the front door area stabbed someone else. Somebody grabbed me by the arm and snatched me out a side door. He was a local taxi driver who explained that the cops had been coming to take me in. Instead, he gave me a ride back to base.
A friend of mine, whose name I can no longer recall, and I, shacked up with a couple of 1st Cav wives for a time. As a matter of fact, we were still living with them until the day the unit shipped out. They took pretty good care of us. They did our laundry, fed us, gave us money to drink on, and provided sex whenever you wanted it. We were in young guy’s heaven. The one I was with was supposed to mail home my civilian clothing and high school class ring. Needless to say, I never saw either of the items again. Once we were out of sight, we were just like their husbands, and out of mind.
Sometimes between women I know I spent some time in the barracks. I remember that there was a fad that got started with little cars that had gas engines. They sold them at the hobby shop, I think. At any rate, I know I had one as did others who lived in the barracks and we would race them. They used cans of fuel and I think you started them with a battery. They had big racing slicks on them that could cause them to spin out of control if you spilled some of the fuel on them when filling them up. They went at high rates of speed and were a source of great fun until I think one of them struck a senior NCO in the ankle as he was exiting his cadre room one Saturday morning. I believe that ended the big races and we had to ship the cars home. It was fun while it lasted.
There was one weekend during my time in the barracks that springs to mind. There was a young soldier named Buddy Brock assigned to the 281st. Buddy was from Hendersonville, North Carolina, and appeared to come from the “good ol’ boy “ stock. He was all the time talking about how well off his family was and how much he missed home and all of the excitement of living there. One week, he asked me how I’d like to come home with him that weekend. He said all expenses would be covered by him. With nothing more exciting to do, I quickly agreed. We flew out of Atlanta, GA to Ashville, NC, where his brother picked us up. We went first to the family owned restaurant in Hendersonville for a visit, then went to the family home (a mansion) by anyone’s standards. The home was absolutely beautiful and clearly indicated that Buddy had not be overstating his family’s means. We had a great time. On Sunday, we departed in a new vehicle, pulling Buddy’s dragster behind on a trailer. Unknown to me, there were several jugs of moonshine in the rear of the vehicle that Buddy had promised to some people in the unit. I didn’t have a driver’s license at the time, however, in order to make it back to the unit without either of us being totally spent, we rotated driving. I took the wheel for a while until we reached Atlanta and then Buddy drove. We managed to get back to the unit just prior to formation early on Monday. Both were exhausted, but it had been an interesting trip. Buddy raced his dragster at local Georgia tracks on weekends after that. I went with him a couple of times, but then my mind went back to chasing women.
This was the era that had Batman on television as well as laugh-In and other popular shows of the time. Soul music was coming into its own. Sam and Dave were singing “Soul Man,” and the clubs in town were rock’n.
As the unit started to become full, we started doing the normal things a unit did to prepare for departure. We hit the rifle ranges and qualified and made it to personnel to complete updated forms and wills. Of course, there were the visits to the clinic for shots. I had had batteries of shots ever since I’d entered the service in 1963. I had taken more shots than I can remember prior to going to Ethiopia. No matter, you still had to take them again. This time my body had a violent reaction to the cholera shot. My temperature soared to around 103 degrees and I felt like I was going to die. That didn’t keep me from playing black jack in one of the cadre rooms on the night of the shot though. I recall there was a blanket spread out on the floor with people either sitting on bunks or the floor. In my case, I was basically laying on the floor with sweat pouring off my forehead. I couldn’t quit, because I couldn’t lose for some reason. I think I won over a thousand dollars that night. I remember giving money back to one sergeant who was married and had lost his entire paycheck in the game. I told him to use the money to buy food and stuff for his family. I remember taking the money down to the mailroom and locking it in the mailroom safe for safekeeping.
I can remember other afternoons during the early spring of 66’ when I’d spend time watching the airborne troops at their school. They were required to run everywhere they went while pounding on their chests screaming “airborne!” Didn’t make a lot of sense to me at the time, but it was interesting to watch. I remember one evening that I watched as their instructor ran them to a pile of crushed stone in the parking lot. He had them grab the stone and scatter it all over the parking lot. When that was completed, and it took some time to do it, he ordered them to gather it all back up and put it back into the pile like it was before. That sent me right on over to the club for another drink. It was more than I could understand.
It was while I was home on leave and spoke with my father prior to going to Nam that I decided to reenlist for the first time. I don’t remember everything clearly, but somehow that got me a week’s uncharged leave at home again and the bonus I received paid for everything to include by tickets back and forth. At any rate, the 281st played a part in my becoming a career soldier.
It’s strange how we forget things as we get older. I know I hadn’t given thought to those little racing cars I mentioned earlier until I started to write about the 281st while it was stationed at Fort Benning.
Back when the unit was forming up, the army had not yet issued soldiers OD underwear. We were suddenly issued dye and told to accomplish the mission ourselves. Talk about creating one hell of a mess. Some had underwear that looked like it had been tie-dyed, some had light OD, some had dark OD, nothing appeared uniform. Some had to go get more underwear and start over when the first batch didn’t meet with the First Sergeant’s approval. It was a nightmare.
I honestly don’t remember leaving Fort Benning. For some reason in my mind it seems like we boarded commercial buses and were transported to Atlanta to the airport there. I’m fairly certain we flew on a commercial flight across the states to Oakland, for a vaguely can recall stewardesses waiting on us. I could be wrong, but it also seems to me that we flew with our weapons located between our knees. I’d hate to take an oath on that, but that seems to be the way I remember it. It’s like when I look at the faces of guys I served with and can’t put a name with the face. I know I know that individual and thought he was a real good man, but I can’t tell you what his name is. Ah, to get older!
Well, the rest of my memories of Fort Benning and the 281st are faded in my mind. Perhaps it was all the booze, perhaps it’s because I’m getting older … who knows. I feel bad for the 1st Cav guys whose wives were cheating on them, but that’s life. War us a dirty job, but somebody has to do it.
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