Uncle Sam
Ain’t Released Me Yet
Memoirs of a REMF
Copyright©
2016 by Robert B. Martin, IV
All
Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system, without express written
permission from the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review or scholarly journal. I have attempted to recreate events,
locales, and conversations from my memories of them.
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Chapter
13
Drilling and Marching
“Without discipline
the Army would just be a bunch of guys wearing the same color clothing.”.........Major
Frank Burns, M*A*S*H*
As I have mentioned previously, there
was a tremendous amount of marching, running, and drilling in BCT and it was
usually done in full combat gear, which added at least fifty pounds or more to
your weight. This gear included our field packs, full canteen (the DI would
check it to make sure it was full), mess kit, overshoes, gas mask, steel
helmet, and rifle. The M-14 rifle itself weighed twelve pounds. I wrote to
Carol Ann, “they run us with all that on until we almost pass out.” I also
said, “So far I have managed to keep up but have almost died.”
“Close-Order Drill,” “Rifle Drill”,
“Manual of Arms,” or” Dismounted Drill” is defined as “synchronized marching,
maneuvering, and formal handling of arms in which the participants perform at
close intervals.” A distance of forty inches was maintained between each
soldier and the length of each step was supposed to be thirty inches. If you
failed to maintain the proper interval the guy behind you would step on your
heel.
The DI shouted commands during
close-order drill. These voice commands directed the soldier in the direction
of march, movement of the rifle, making turns, etc. A tremendous amount of time
was spent practicing these drills. It must have been similar to performing in a
chorus line, as everyone had to be in sync with one another. This required
hours of practice, yet there were still some trainees who could not master the
art of marching. These trainees would usually be recycled and sent to the “Goon
Platoon” until they learned to march.
Marching with shouldered rifles could be
dangerous. It was advisable to be on the lookout for rifles swinging towards
your head whenever the DI shouted a command to execute a turn. It was easy to
get hit in the head with a rifle barrel if someone turned the wrong way. If a
trainee did that too often he risked being sent to the “Goon Platoon.”
I realize that I am being repetitive
when I say that is was very cold at Fort Leonard Wood. Having never been
outside of the Southeastern United States, I had never experienced such cold,
and certainly not for such long periods of time. Many days would find us
outside all day with the temperature in the ‘teens with blowing snow or sleet.
One of my letters home said, “Everything is frozen.” In another I told Carol
Ann, “This is really miserable weather. We haven’t had any good weather to
amount to anything since I got here. Seems like it snows at least once a week
and rains every other day between snows.” I also wrote, “the wind is blowing so
hard the snow hits you right in the face and you can hardly see.”
I vividly remember one afternoon that
we were practicing the manual of arms (rifle drill). As in marching, executing
the manual of arms required all trainees to move as one. When, for example, the
rifle butt was tapped on the ground, there was to be one collective tap, not a
multitude of uncoordinated, out-of-synch taps. It was well below freezing and yet
gloves could not be worn while performing rifle drill because they might become
caught in the rifle’s mechanism. Rifle drill also required a high degree of
manual dexterity, which was impossible when wearing gloves. However, in
sub-freezing temperatures, manual dexterity is greatly reduced. Cold
temperatures cause your body to shunt blood away from the “non-vital” parts of
your body (such as your hands). The decreased blood flow causes the muscles of
the hand to become stiff. The lower the temperature, the more noticeable the
effect. I had learned this biological response to cold when studying anatomy
and physiology in pharmacy school. I’m sure that the DI’s were also well aware
of how the body reacted to cold and used this against us. They knew that numb,
stiff fingers made it very difficult, if not downright impossible, to execute
the rifle drill sharply and properly. We were “all thumbs” when attempting the
drill and the DI said we “were sloppy and not together” and would be punished. The
dreaded order to assume the “front leaning rest position” in preparation for
Army Drill #1, exercise #6 was shouted by the DI. With our hands immersed in
freezing slush we pumped out pushups until the DI was satisfied. We then repeated
the drill. To no one’s surprise, we were still unable to execute the rifle
drill satisfactorily and once again found ourselves in the front leaning rest
position with hands immersed in the icy slush.
After this second round of pushups we
were again ordered to repeat the rifle drill. By this time, we could no longer
feel our numb, swollen, stiff hands and fingers. I couldn’t feel the rifle in
my hands. My hands may as well have been anesthetized. There was no way that
anyone could possibly complete the drill to the satisfaction of the DI. The
cycle repeated until the DI decided that we had done enough pushups. I can’t
remember the total number of pushups.
The rifle drill in the ice was only one
example of how much of our training was spent with various parts of our bodies
and extremities exposed to that freezing, wet, and miserable slush. This was one
of the reasons Ft. Leonard Wood was called “Little Korea.”
According to my letters home, 0ne-third
of my basic training company contracted walking pneumonia requiring treatment
with antibiotics. Hospitalization was required in a few instances, which resulted
in the dreaded “recycling” by being transferred to a company that was several
weeks behind in the training process. This allowed the trainee to makeup the
missed training. Some trainees were sick enough to need medical attention but refused
to go on sick call for fear of recycling. I came very close to being one of
them.
Eventually there were so many trainees
from our company going on sick call each morning that a new rule was made.
Before a trainee was allowed to report for sick call, he was required to pack
all of his equipment, clothing, boots, personal items - EVERYTHING - into his
duffel and laundry bags and carry them to the company supply room for “safe
keeping.” Upon return from sick call the trainee would retrieve his gear from
the supply room and return it to his personal area. Fortunately for me, this
new rule was made after my medical problems, which I will discuss later.
I told Carol Ann in a letter, “I wore
briefs, long johns, fatigue pants and shirt, wool over-shirt, wool field
trousers, wool socks, wool muffler, boots, rubber overshoes, gloves (even if
only cotton work gloves), insulated field jacket, and Pyle cap.” The Pyle cap
was one of those “Korean war” types of cap. It had wool on the inside and
covered the head, ears, and neck. I also had a long wool overcoat to wear in
colder weather. However, I never got to wear it and I don’t know how much lower
the temperature would have had to drop before we would have been allowed to
wear it.
Some of the other training companies
were issued passes to go into town on weekends. In the entire eight weeks of
BCT, our company never received a weekend pass. Because I had arrived at Fort
Leonard Wood by air, I never saw the outside of the fort until I left on a bus
after graduation. I believe we had it a bit tougher than other training
companies in our battalion and our DI’s seemed harder than those in the other
companies. Eventually, however, we were able to run circles around most of the
other training companies.
We sang as we marched and ran. Even
though it required more breath, it seemed to make the pain more bearable.
Staying in step required a certain amount of rhythm, and singing helped.
Trainees without rhythm risked being transferred to the dreaded “Goon Platoon.”
I don’t remember all of the verses or
words to the songs but here are a few examples.
(To the Tune of “Sound Off!”)
If I die
in a combat zone,
Box me
up and send me home.
Pin my
medals on my chest,
Tell my
mom I did my best.
Sound
Off!
My favorite marching song was sung to
the tune of the Coasters’, “Poison Ivy.” These are the words I remember.
Viet
Nam, Viet Nam,
Late at
night while you’re sleeping,
Charlie
Cong comes a’ creeping,
Arouuuuunnnnnd.
The
Saigon girls are pretty,
Their
hair is long and black,
And if
you don’t watch it,
They’ll
knife you in the back,
In Viet
Nam
Viet Nam, Viet Nam,
A hand grenade will
kill ya’,
A bayonet sticks thru’
ya’
You're in another
ambush, you hear your buddy say
Oh God, let me live
another day
Vietnam, Vietnam—
Another good one for which I remember
most of the words.
Around her head she
wore a yellow ribbon.
She wore it in the
springtime and in the month of May.
And if you asked her
why the hell she wore it,
She’d say she wore it
for her soldier who was far, far away.
(Chorus)
Far Away,
Far Away,
She wore it for her
soldier who was far, far away.
Around the block she
pushed the baby carriage,
She pushed it in the
springtime in the early month of May.
And if you asked her
why the hell she pushed it,
She pushed it for her
soldier who was far, far away.
(Chorus)
Behind the door her daddy
kept a shotgun.
He kept it in the
springtime, in the early month of May.
And if you asked him
why the hell he kept it,
He kept it for that
soldier who was far, far, away.
(Chorus)
In the church the
preacher kept a license.
He kept it in the
springtime, in the early month of May.
And if you asked him
why the hell he kept it,
He kept it for that
soldier who was far, far, away.
(Chorus)
Around his grave she
laid the pretty flowers.
She laid them in the
springtime, in the early month of May.
And if you asked her
why the heck she laid them,
She’d say she laid
them for her soldier who was far, far away.
(Chorus)
A good one for running was…….
Two old maids were
lying in bed,
one rolled over to the
other and said,
I wanna be an Airborne
Ranger,
I wanna live a life of
danger.
I wanna go to Vietnam,
just to kill ol’
Charlie Cong.
Airborne,
Up the hill.
Over the hill,
Airborne.
Some of the more popular ones were the
“Jody” songs, or “Jodies.” Jody was the guy back home who was living a life of
luxury, eating his mom’s home cooking, and dating your girl. He never served in
the military and was a real asshole whom you enjoyed hating. Here is a typical
“Jody” sung to the tune of “Sound Off.” I wish I could remember more.
I used to date a
beauty queen,
Now I date my M-14.
Ain’t no use in
looking down,
Ain’t no discharge on
the ground.
Ain’t no use in going
back,
Jody’s got your
Cadillac.
Ain’t no use in going
home,
Jody’s got your girl
and gone.
Ain’t no use in
feeling blue,
Jody’s got your sister
to.
Here’s another Jody cadence to the tune of “Sound Off!”
You had a good wife
when you left / You’re right!
Jody was
there when you left / You’re right!
Sound
off! / One, two
Sound
off! / Three, four
And another Jody:
Every time you stamp
yo' feet
Jody gets a piece of
meat.
Am I right?
You’re right!
Ain't no use to mourn
an' grieve
Jody's gone, I do
believe
Am I right?
You’re right!
When marching in a long column, the
column would tend to bunch up in the front and get strung out towards the rear.
You would find yourself almost at a standstill and then the next instant you
were running to catch up. It was called the “rubber band effect.” While you
were running and stopping the guys in the front were marching along at a
consistent pace, completely oblivious to what was happening in the rear. Then
they wondered why you were so tired when the march ended.
To be continued in Chapter 14, Advanced Killing and Other Useful Skills….
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