Georgia…on My Mind
I got really lucky that they needed troops to stay at Benning. They were still sending a few people to Viet Nam after their advanced training even though the was winding down. I could have been one of them had the higher ups had any animosity about me washing out of Airborne.
We moved from the casual barracks into the regular company barracks as summer was beginning and it was hot. Not just hot, it was fucking miserably hot. They separated me and my cohorts, Charlie and Dan, into different parts of the barracks though. Charlie and I got rooms but Dan was in an open bay, like those for trainees. Now I had a little money in my pocket so I said to myself why not seek some of the comforts of home. I needed rock & roll music so I bought a cheap stereo record & cassette tape player. I picked up a cheap 19" black and white TV at the same place. I really needed cool air so went downtown and I rented an window air conditioner for the room I shared with three other guys and we split the cost. After I got the AC unit back to the barracks I found out that I would need the permission of the company Commander to install it in my quarters so I went to the company clerk and submitted the request. Within a few days it was approved. All of a sudden I was the most popular guy in the barracks. I was shocked that no one had ever thought of it before.
Working as an MP on the road was generally boring and uneventful. There was no real crime to crunch. We paired up with a partner and spent all of our time driving around in open Jeeps wondering when we could go to the mess hall for a meal. We learned how to talk on the radio, which was cool… how to turn the alphabet into words… MP was Mike Papa…BFD was Bravo, Frank, Dildo J… Oh and we got to say "Roger, Over and Out", just like on TV! Shifts rotated; 1 week on days, 1 on mid-shift and 1 on graveyard.
A big day was writing up soldiers for uniform violations. Not wearing a hat, or cover, while outside. A bigger day, on the night shift was pulling over a drunk, harassing him, putting the handcuffs on behind his back and watching him fall on his face. Not my idea of a good time but other guys thought it was hilarious.
My claim to fame over this period was working as a guard outside the quarters of Lt. William Calley, the officer who took the fall for the My Lai Massacre that occurred in South Viet Nam in 1968. We would pull a duty shift a couple times each week where we would park our Jeep in the driveway and sit there for 8 hours reading books and magazines. He was under house arrest so he never stepped foot outside while I was on duty. They only took him out under guard to go to the PX once a week. I only saw him once through the window of his single duplex.
After about 6 months on the street as an MP I applied for a job with the Investigation Section as a Clerk/Typist and was transferred to the 139th MP Company. I knew that summer school typing course would come in handy. Even at 25 words per minute I was a valuable commodity. The investigators didn't type and could barely put a sentence together with a pen and paper. My job was to translate their scribblings into typed incident reports that were legal documents to be reviewed up the chain of commant.
I received extra pay to buy and wear civilian clothes just like the Investigators. I got extra pay to live off post because they didn't want me in the barracks associating with the regular troops. I got extra pay for food because they didn't want me eating in the mess hall with the regular troops either. Talk about getting over.
My boss was a lifer Staff Sergeant named R.C. Kolb. He was a nice enough guy. Very thin with a skinny mustache and a penchant for cigarettes and Old Style beer. Two or three times a week he’d ask me to take his car to the PX and pick up a case of beer and a carton of smokes. It was a nice diversion and he left me pretty much alone as long as I kept making his trips to the PX.
Here is where my attitude about the Army began to veer a little off track. I was trying to make a go of it in the MP’s. After all I still had a long way to go before the end of my enlistment. I got to know the Investigators and two of them asked if I wanted to go out on patrol with them. One night I was out with a Sergeant from the great state of Mississippi named Bud Biggert who was one of the more hard-core lifers. His goal in life was to make busts and he had a nose for it. As we drove through a parking lot in a barracks quad he noticed two guys talking and swerved towards them. I’m not sure what he saw that caused him to alert but, sure enough, they were conducting a drug transaction and they were now busted. Being a casual user myself I was conflicted about my role in the bust but I did my duty, fully participating in the pat-down, cuffing and arrest. After that I wasn’t so anxious to go back on patrol with the investigators. I think Bud could tell that I wasn’t going to be much help on the street with him either. It was this experience that brought me closer to the conclusion that I wasn’t cut out to be an officer of the law.
Over time my attitude deficiency must have become more obvious. Sgt. Kolb once said to me “Howard, you got an apathetic attitude.” My reply was “Ya know Sarge, I just don’t care”. He just shook his head and chuckled. There was a lot of apathy going around in the Army in the early 70's before the All-Volunteer Army came into being.
After a few months in the barracks I moved into a single wide trailer with Burel Ballard and his wife, Kathy, over in Phoenix City, Alabama just across the Chattahoochee River. They were from a small town in Illinois east of St. Louis. Burel was a guard at the jail or stockade, as we called it, and came from a farming family but Kathy was from a more affluent Davis California family. You could tell the difference and that it wasn’t exactly a match made in heaven. I was really smitten by Kathy. She was smart and pretty. She made these really great “lace cookies” that I have never been able to find anywhere. They were almost all sugar and were great with you had the munchies.
Eventually I realized that the trailer wasn't cutting it way out in the sticks so I moved into a furnished house in Columbus with 3 other guys, all MP's. It was a constant party in that house after work with people coming and going all of the time at all hours of the day and night. I needed more money to live my kind of life so I got a part-time job at night at McDonalds as a Shake Man… With the extra income and a loan from a bank I was able to buy a brand new canary yellow 1973 Volkswagen Beetle for $2,300.00. I was getting cooler all the time. We took great trips in that car; once to Ft. Walton Beach, my first beach experience, and once to New Orleans for Mardi Gras.
We all had a friend who lived in the barracks named Dennis Metz. Dennis was a draftee who had a complete disregard for the Army and didn’t hide it, but he worked as the Admin for the Company Commander. Dennis had this idea to take a canoe trip down the Chattahoochee River and have the Army pay for it by calling it an “Adventure Training” exercise. Well sure enough he got it approved and requisitioned 3 canoes and all of the necessary camping equipment for the trip.
The plan was to float from Phoenix City, Alabama, just across the river from Columbus, Georgia, to Eufaula Alabama. According to Dennis it would take about 3 days of paddling and 2 overnights because the lower part of the Chattahoochee is not as quick as the upper part that comes out of the north Georgia mountains. So we set out on a sun-shiny Friday morning for a great adventure paid for by the US Government. We had with us what we thought would be plenty of beer and a little bit of dope. Those were the necessities required for a group of Army soldiers who would need to survive on a long training mission such as this would likely be. Oh, and some food, too.
It was a good trip, stopping periodically to smoke a little and drink a little and have a meal but the going was slow as the current was almost non-existent. After the first full day we were well short of point we had planned to stop overnight so we found another camping area. The next day was not much better with the hot sun bearing down on us. Dennis got on the phone at one stopping point and called a few buddies to drive down and meet us. It was a good thing because we were almost out of beer.
Late that night, after considerable consumption of alcohol Dennis said he wanted to go to one of the cars and smoke some good weed that one of the guys brought. I was game so we loaded into the front seat and lit up a joint. About half-way into the blunt Dennis said he wanted to tell me something that would blow my mind. I was open to hear what he had to say until he put his hand on my leg and said “Howie, I’m bi-sexual.” Now we were pretty fucked up by that time and there was an uncomfortably long silence that followed. I had never actually known anybody who was openly homosexual and all I could do was move his hand off my leg, say I’m not gay and leave him to finish the doobie alone.
We completed the trip that next day but didn’t quite make it to Eufaula, having to make another call to have our pickup crew come get us at Florence instead…and bring more beer.
We had some great times in Georgia. Columbus was a military town so the women I met were a little more open to GI’s. I had a few short-lived encounters with women but not many.
Of particular note was an experience that just blew me away initially. My roommates and I were walking through a department store, just browsing. I spotted this really hot blond woman about my age that was staring at me. Now I’m a shy guy but I smiled at her, and she smiled back. Completely out of character, I walked over to her and said hello. She said her name was Amber and was open to conversation so after the smoothest banter I could muster I invited her to come to our house and party, and she said yes. She was so beautiful I couldn’t believe it. She was funny and into me and I was completely enthralled with her. After a long night of partying she stayed over. The next day she went home and changed and came back and stayed another night, and then another.
Over a period of time I could see that, as pretty as she was and as nice as it was to have her around, she was very strange. She would get very angry without any apparent reason, flying into a rage, then calming down. She would say things and not remember saying them. She drank even more than we did and we all began to think that the reason she was there was for the food and the beer. After about a week I told her I was done, but rather than leave she latched onto Charlie. After a few days with him she moved onto Bob. I don't think she had a permanent place to stay or any means of support. Eventually, after a few weeks she stopped coming around.
I only dated one girl regularly while there though. The girl who I spent the most time with was a sweet Georgia girl named Carole, who I had met through other local friends. For me it was a comfort to have someone to party and spend time with. For her I think it became a lot more. Carole was your average southern girl with a pretty face and small frame. She liked to be with all of us but was somewhat quiet and reserved. When I eventually got transferred I said goodbye and told her I would write but never did.
After about 16 months I was ready for a change of scenery. I met a WAC who worked in the overseas levy board. She said she could get me transferred anywhere I wanted to go. I jokingly said I'd like to go to Hawaii one night and within three weeks I had orders to Schofield Barracks, Hawaii. I was really getting over. Aloha!
