Driving a gun jeep and bivouacing in the woods was fun, but after a couple years I decided that it would be better for my career if I tried something else. There was an opening for a clerk typist in the Division Headquarters, so I applied for the job. Right away I found that I was not much of a typist, so I guess that typing class in high school didn't do me much good. But I had a sergeant who kept me at the typewriter pounding out The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. and Pack my box with five dozen liquor jugs. over and over until within six months I was typing better than 75 wpm. For the next two years I typed and typed and typed-- soon I was typing better than 100 wpm, letter perfect, and that was my undoing.

You see, I wanted to go to Viet Nam and volunteered several times. I figured that a career soldier needed to have combat time on his service record. But I was an exceptional clerk, and because I had a TOP SECRET security clearance, I was hard to replace. So every time my name came down on orders to go to Viet Nam, some other poor joe with the same job description was sent instead.





Fortunately, about this time, I received a direct commission as an Infantry Officer and sent to Fort Benning, GA, for the Combat Platoon Leader's Course. This is a very simple course, designed to teach ROTC graduates who are new to the Army, but officer's nevertheless, how to put their left foot in front of their right. I was one of a few honor graduates of that course.

Not much later I found myself assigned as an Infantry Platoon Leader with the 101st Airborne Division in Viet Nam. I was concerned about chickening out in front of my men, but fortunately that never happened. I spent a year in Viet Nam wondering how the top brass could be so darned stupid (I found out later they were following instructions from visiting Congressmen and Senators who knew nothing about the military) and taking care of the wonderful guys who looked after me while I looked out for them. After a year I went home and applied for helicopter flight school.

After completion of basic flight school, I was sent to transition training for the AH-1G Huey Cobra, a mean looking helicopter capable of raining sudden death from the sky. Flying the Cobra was like moving up from a six-year-old pickup truck to a shiny new luxury car.

Of course, the Army didn't have any use for gunship pilots except back in Viet Nam, so back I went for another tour. I flew about 600 missions, getting shot up half a dozen times but wounded only once. I like to think that the aerial fire support I provided with my wing-man helped to make the job of the grunts on the ground a lot easier, and maybe saved a few lives.


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