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 31
A New Battery Commander
“All very successful commanders are prima donnas
and must be so treated.” ...........George S.
Patton, Jr.
I had not been in-country
very long when CPT Oliver, the BC, rotated out (his six months were up) and a
new BC, CPT Charles Rankin, was assigned. CPT Oliver had been quite cheerful
and about as friendly toward enlisted personnel as an officer could be. He had
a smile and kind word for everyone. CPT Rankin’s demeanor was almost the exact
opposite that of CPT Oliver. I can’t recall ever seeing the man smile and he
didn’t say much. CPT Rankin was a West Point graduate, straight-laced, and very
“STRAC.”
CPT Rankin was from Georgia,
as was I. His hometown was Buena Vista, GA, which was only about fifty miles
from my hometown of Cuthbert. We played them in football when I was in high
school. CPT Rankin didn’t “chat” enough for me to get to know him or form an
opinion of him during his assignment as our BC.
A couple of months after
CPT Rankin became our BC, I was called into his office and told to be ready to
drive him somewhere that evening. It wasn’t unusual for me to drive the BC when
his regular driver, Ray Orchelle, was not available.
After supper, I walked over
to the motor pool, signed out a jeep and drove over to the officer’s hooch to
pick up the captain. He came out to the jeep carrying a gift-wrapped bottle and
began giving me driving directions, one turn at a time. It turned out to be on the
other side of Camp Eagle, where I was instructed to park across a dirt street
from several mobile homes (commonly provided for VIPs and civilian
contractors). After ordering me to remain with the jeep and wait, CPT Rankin
walked over to one of the mobile homes and knocked on the door. It was opened
by a woman whom I later learned was a Donut Dollie. It seemed the BC had a “date”
and I would have to sit outside in the jeep and wait until “”it was over. I
didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell me how it went.
CPT Rankin also liked to
visit the battalion’s firing batteries on the various fire bases. I drove him
to several firebases a few times when Ray was not available. I didn’t mind
driving up and down QL-1 to Hue, Phu Bai, or Danang but driving out to a firebase usually scared the hell out of me. Most
of the FSB’s were in rather desolate locations and it would just be the two of
us in a jeep. I carried my M-16 and a shit load of ammunition while the captain
only carried his sidearm, an M1911 pistol (semi-automatic, magazine-fed,
recoil-operated .45 cal.). I wanted to make sure I possessed as much firepower
as possible should I ever be required to defend myself. If I could have mounted
a .50 caliber machine gun on the jeep, I would probably have done so. Those
drives never seemed to bother Ray. In fact, on his jaunts in the country, he rarely
took his M-16 along, just the .45 caliber sidearm that drivers were authorized
to carry in addition to the M-16 rifle. Ray was in love with his .45. It was
not unusual to see him breaking down and carefully cleaning the pistol as he
waited around for the BC to require a ride.
I can only remember the
names of two firebases to which I drove CPT Rankin. They were FSB Tomahawk,
near the northern end of the Hai Van pass, overlooking the South China Sea, and
FSB Arsenal, about five miles southwest of Phu Bai. The view from FSB Tomahawk’s
Hai Van pass location was spectacular. I often drove the 1SG along this route
on outings to Danang.
Continued in Chapter 32, Mountain Driving…
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