Page 114 - Anthology

I was born and raised on a tobacco farm in Madison County, Kentucky. The doctor came to our house to
deliver me. Most of the crop was grown on hillsides. We used mules to farm the land. I plowed and
broke the ground for planting. I did whatever was needed to get the job done. We were share croppers.

I graduated high school in 1964 and was drafted in 1966. When I turned eighteen, I had to register for the
draft. I remember on that day that I could just feel that my number was going to come up, and sure
enough it did. I remember coming home one day and my mother said I had gotten a letter from Uncle
Sam. When I opened it, the letter said “greetings, you are hereby ordered to report to such and such a
place and bring a certain amount of clothing, toothpaste and such. I told my mom that it sounded like I
was not going to be able to come back home. I was right, I did not get to go back home. I remember
thinking: My numbers done come up. I was living in Madison County, Kentucky, when I was called to
active duty.

My basic training was eight weeks at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. Immediately after being sworn in, we
were put on a bus and taken to Fort Campbell for basic training. When the bus doors opened a drill
sergeant came on board and said: “I’m your momma; I’m your daddy, and you’ll do as I say.” I thought:
oh no, this is not going to be good. Campbell is where I decided that I wanted to be a paratrooper. I saw
st
those guys form the 101 Airborne and knew that was me. That was what I wanted to become. When I
called home to tell my mom that I had volunteered for airborne she thought I was crazy. But I told her that
was what I wanted, and she didn’t like it, but ok. My father was upset about the whole thing. He was
losing a son to the war and a farm hand all at the same time, but there were seven boys and three girls.
He wanted help on the farm.

After basic I went to Fort Gordon, Georgia, for Advanced Infantry Training (AIT). After AIT I went to Fort
Benning, Georgia, for jump school. Jump school was physically tough. We had to run almost five miles
each morning – before breakfast. It was tough. I remember we’d come in from running and line up at the
mess hall to eat. We’d yell out our service number and be allowed entry into the mess hall. We were
only given a short time to eat. If you didn’t finish – too bad, you went the rest of the morning without
breakfast. Again, being raised on the farm helped me. I was physically in good shape, so the physical
stuff was not too bad on me. At completion of jump school, the sergeant lined us all up and started
calling out names. If your name was not called it meant you were headed for Viet Nam. When my bunch
was left, he looked over and said: “All you swinging …. are headed to Nam.” That’s the way he said it.

We were given a thirty day leave before having to report to Fort Dix, New Jersey, for a flight to San
Francisco, California, and on to Viet Nam. When we left the states, it was cold. We had winter uniforms.
But, when we landed in Viet Nam, they didn’t even need to open the doors for us to know how hot it was.
I couldn’t wait for someone to pick me up and issue me my jungle uniforms.

My mother was more worried about me jumping out of planes than me going to Nam. We were church
going people, and I prayed a lot while in Viet Nam. I know that my Lord looked out for me while I was
there.

A lot of the guys in Viet Nam were careless. I remember once this guy, from Cincinnati, Ohio, was
walking behind me. I told him to step where I had just stepped. He didn’t listen, and he was dragging his
feet. He tripped a booby trap. It went off and got him in his butt. I got all over him. I asked him why he
didn’t step where I stepped. He was foolish, and his name is now on that wall. He died from his
foolishness. He got the wrong ticket home.