I was assigned to the Second Platoon, Bravo Company, Second Battalion, First Calvary. My unit was already in Vietnam. Orders were to report to Camp Haan Army Base in Riverside, California, on Tuesday, October 16, 1962. I would be met at the airport in Los Angeles and have a layover at Camp Haan. I was told I would join with three enlisted men on their way to Vietnam and also in Second Platoon, Bravo Company.
The predawn flight from Birmingham to Atlanta was my first time to be on an airplane. The sky was clear that night. I was surprised at all the lights I could see around farmhouses, as well as cities and towns. I had thought the connecting flight from Atlanta to Los Angeles would be long and boring, but I got bumped to first class. I was in an aisle seat this time, but when I walked back to the lavatory, a stewardess invited me to sit in the empty back seat. Four across, all empty.
After the stewardess had served coffee and muffins in the cabin, she slipped in beside me. She asked what I was reading. I showed her Catch-22. She had already read it. I was just getting started, so she said she wouldn’t spoil it. I showed her I was also carrying Hombre. She was reading The Agony and the Ecstasy. I wanted to read that one, but it was too heavy to carry. Somewhere over Texas, those of us in first class were served a little sandwich, a fruit dish, and more coffee. When she was finished serving this, the stewardess came back and sat next to me again. For a while she sat with her eyes closed.
Then, she turned to me. “There’s another Army guy back in the other section.”
Surprised, I asked if she was going to bump him up here, too. It puzzled me a little when she reported that there was a steward in the tourist section, and he had told her not to. “The other army guy is an enlisted man. The steward thought it might be a little uncomfortable for him to be here with you. Fraternization and all that, you know?”
“Wouldn’t bother me. What rank is he?”
“The steward back there asked him.” I liked that this stewardess sitting beside me had deep dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. I couldn’t help it. I saw them. That’s all. She went on. “The soldier told the steward that he had been demoted from co-captain on his high school’s football team last fall to being a private in the infantry.”
I had to laugh. “Poor kid. That must have been a shock. I went from being a chemistry lab instructor to being a second lieutenant in the infantry. Maybe that was a promotion.”
The stewardess looked at me a moment, deciding something I figured.
“Mr. Hollerman … . Sorry, Lieutenant Hollerman. Gregory. May I call you that? He’s not poor. I don’t mean financially. I don’t know about that. I mean that he looks and acts like he was a co-captain of a high school football team.”
“Oh,” I laughed. “I know what you mean. I was the other way when I graduated from high school. I was a skinny runner. No more. Last year, the Army had serious plans for that sack of bones.” I leaned back, nodded, and turned to her. “I’d say they were pretty intent … and kind of successful.”
She looked at me. I mean, really looked. It made me uncomfortable. I needed to think about something else, so I picked up my book and started to read again.
“There’s something more I want to tell you.” She started again.
I put the book down and turned to her.
“All of us … the crew … we fly back to Atlanta tomorrow morning. This is our usual run. We fly for two days and are off for two days. In Los Angeles, we have a suite and stay together. Not the pilot and co-pilot. They stay in a different hotel.”
“Changing time zones so much must be hard.”
“There are two stewardesses back there and the steward I mentioned. The four of us were wondering if you’d like to join us tonight. The football player said he would.”
I must have looked puzzled, because she went on. “I understand about fraternization and all that, but what are the chances that you’d ever see him again?”
“The steward thinks this would be okay, me being at a party with the enlisted guy, but not sitting in the same compartment with him?”
“He thought it was a good idea for you to come. I told him about you.”
I was surprised. “You told the enlisted man about me?”
“You know … that you read and stuff.”
“That I read?” What an idiot I was. Here I was thinking she was admiring my body in this snug fitting army uniform, and she’s talking to some guy about my reading. Wonder what she’d say if I slipped off this tie and unbuttoned my shirt?
Her dimples became visible again. “You two Army guys going to Indo China. I mean Vietnam. Think of it as a going away party. We’d be sure to get you to your quarters after the party.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow! Thank you. What a wonderful idea.” And then, I shook my head. “But … . You know … . I think maybe I’d better not.”
She reached over and grasped my hand. It was a while before she said anything. “I’m sorry.”
I turned to her, looked deep into her eyes. “My guess is that in another month or so, I’m going to say what a stupid, idiot I was.” I shook my head. “Nevertheless, thanks anyway.” What ‘cha want to bet that at about two o’clock, I’m going to wake up and say what a stupid guy I was?
She shrugged. “It’s okay. Good wishes to you over there, Lieutenant.” She got up and left. She never came back to sit beside me again on that flight and only said bye as I deplaned.
An Army guy from the carpool was holding a sign for Lieutenant Hollerman and Private Rigsby at the baggage pick up. After I gave that guy my bag, I moved a bit away so I wouldn’t have to talk to him. Not long afterwards, an enlisted guy with a bag came up. Yeah. I could believe he had been co-captain of somebody’s football team. I’d be willing to bet he played right guard! He saw me but only gave a glance before addressing the driver. “I’m Private Rigsby, but I have my own transportation.”
“My instructions are to pick you up here.”
“I never showed up. Okay? And don’t worry. I’ll be at my post tomorrow morning. On time, I’m promised transportation.”
The driver didn’t look happy with this. The private turned toward me, nodded, and was off. I didn’t feel like making a scene. He was accepting the invitation to the party. Well, buddy, enjoy it while you can. I walked back to the driver and said simply, “Let’s go.”
I was quartered in a cubbyhole in the bachelor officer’s quarters.
The Officer’s Club was two blocks away. There, I had a lonely last supper in the States. I decided I wouldn’t tell my wife about what happened on the flight from Atlanta. I did call her. For her, it was late. We talked for a good while, and then a mechanical female voice announced that I needed to deposit more quarters into the pay phone to continue for another minute. I did.
“Ruth. I have to go.”
She was crying.
“Don’t be upset. I’m okay. Your being upset is not good for those dozen babies in your belly! Besides, we knew when we got married that I had to go. We planned this. Right? I’m an officer. Remember? And I’ve already told you that everything is going to be okay.”
I heard her draw in her breath, and then in a strained, but firm voice, she said the words that reminded me why we loved each other. “Greg Hollerman, if you don’t come back, I’m going to raise all twelve of your sons to be sissies!”
I don’t really remember if I laughed or cried. Maybe it was a little of both. “With that ultimatum, Mrs. Hollerman, I promise that I will be invincible.”
The mechanical voice came on again.
“I love you, Ruth. Bye.” I hung up and thought about getting more quarters. I wished that her crying was not the last thing I heard.
The officer’s club was still open, so I walked back, drank a beer and held another. Beer wasn’t what I wanted. Back at my overnight quarters, I lay awake for several hours, listening to the snores coming through the walls and thinking about all the new things that were happening to me. I couldn’t help it. My thoughts kept turning back to the perfume that stewardess had worn. I smelled my hand to see if some had come off on me when she touched me. And, I wondered if this was the way loneliness at night was going to be when I was always with a bunch of guys. Worse of all, how was I going to be in charge of some thirty or forty or fifty guys who had been co-captains on their high school football teams?
God, please help me remember to tell my sons how hard it is to be away from your wife right after you’re married. In a bit later, I added, And please, God. Let my sons have their father who can tell them things.
Somebody else’s alarm clock went off before the one in my room, and I wasn’t the first one shaving in the bathroom at the end of the hall. None of the three of us said anything more than good morning.
I was standing in front of a sergeant’s desk a little after 0800. He was a sharp looking guy, ribbons across his chest including a Vietnam patch. All business. He pulled out a folder that must have had more data about me than I knew existed. Mostly what I remember about that conversation is that he confirmed that my next of kin was listed as Ruth Hollerman. And he confirmed that I had a life insurance policy payable to her for $20,000. Premiums for that would be automatically taken from my pay.
After some administrative details, a driver from the motor pool stepped into the room. “Lt. Hollerman?”
“Yes, sir.” Damnit! I did it again. Second try: “Yep! That’s me!”
The driver took me to a runway where there was a gigantic, four motor, propeller driven plane being loaded. Officially, that hunk of metal was a C-124 Globemaster. I knew that the monster was called an Old Shaky by everybody who had ridden in one. I would understand why as soon as we were off the ground and headed to Saigon, Vietnam.
For the rest of the morning and early afternoon, I stood around on the runway, shuffling from one foot to the other, thinking about the stewardess who had invited me up to her place for a drink. And I watched the big machinery being loaded. I kept thinking they were running too much heavy stuff into the belly of the thing. We’ll never get that monster off the ground.
I smirked as it went through my head to wonder how powerful those two single gold bars were, the ones sitting on each of my shoulders. Who’d pay attention if I walked over to the guys loading Old Shaky and said, “Hey, guys! That’s it. I’m here and ready to go. Let’s wind up the rubber bands and get this thing in the air. Okay?”
Maybe they’d salute and say, “Yes, sir.”
Probably not.
Not even a couple or three stars would make something like that work.
There were three guys waiting a little way away who it seemed would be traveling with me on the flight from Los Angeles to Anchorage and on to Vietnam. I’d been told that all three would be in Second Platoon. A sergeant was returning from some R&R. He was the one who came over, saluted, and introduced himself.
When I saw him coming, I squared myself away and probably stuck my chest out a bit. It was clear that he was a seasoned soldier. “Good morning, Sergeant.” I was a little casual as I returned his salute.
The first thing he said was, “I heard we were getting a new second lieutenant.”
I was kind of hoping that I didn’t look so new. Anyway, I didn’t come to attention. I was already standing sort of squared away. “Yep. That’s me, Lieutenant Hollerman.”
He didn’t say his name. “You don’t look like an OCS Lieutenant.”
Was he trying to piss me off? I wasn’t ashamed of where I came from. “You’re right. ROTC. University of Alabama.” I rocked from side-to-side for a moment, jaw clinched, giving him my best stare. “Do the guys from Officers’ Candidate School look so different?”
He shrugged, “Hardened. Tough looking. You know?”
Yeah. Trying to get under my skin, so I was determined not to blink. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to see how tough I am.”
I watched him check me out from head to foot. I didn’t like the smile that crossed his face. “Yes, sir. Maybe so. I hope not.”
“We’ll see.” I cut my eyes over to the other guys who were standing aside watching us. “Those two are in Second Platoon.” I told him. I didn’t ask.
“Rigsby and Heinz, sir.”
“And you are Berkshire. Sergeant Berkshire. I guess we’ll come to know each other during the next few months.”
“Yes, sir. See you inflight.” He came to attention, saluted, and turned to walk away.
I gave him my best casual salute in return and watched him walk back to the other two. When all three turned toward me, I knew they were talking about me. The sergeant said something, and they laughed.
We were separated by rank. I understood that. But I had to accept that they’d be my guys. There’d be two things in our relationship. Since I was an officer in their platoon, they’d want me to take care of them. And I’d want them to watch my back.
We waited. Forever later, an Air Force guy came to where we waited. He saluted. “Ready for boarding on the way to Anchorage, sir.”
“And then to Saigon?”
“Saigon’s your third stop, sir. Anchorage, Tokyo, Saigon: that’s your route. You and your gear go all the way with that bird. She’ll take you there.”
The three of us picked up our gear and followed the corporal. That’s when we saw that we weren’t the only ones who would be boarding. Three Army Green buses pulled up and started unloading what must have been a full platoon. They were ordered to assemble into formation. Counting heads, I figured.
We climbed onboard while the platoon continued to get organized. “Top deck, sir.” That was our instructions. Top deck. You’re damn right! I didn’t say that out loud.
I smelled the food about an hour after we were airborne. The guys below us were being fed first. Eventually, some enlisted Air Force guy brought chow to the guys at the front of the top deck and, at last, to us. Was this a late lunch? Or supper? Whatever. There was some brown, ground meat, what was probably powdered potatoes, and a mixture of vegetables that looked artificially colored. These were heaped on a divided metal tray. An inverted cup sat in its own section. I was wishing I had two cups to be filled if they ever brought around something liquid.
I watched the guys across the way as they ate, talking and laughing. Maybe I could get past the officer/enlisted barrier before this trip was over.
I must have read about a hundred more pages of Catch-22 when I saw one of the two new guys get up and walk toward the front of the craft. An enlisted Air Force guy saw him coming and pointed toward a side door up front. I figured I knew what the guy was looking for and that I’d follow soon after. In a bit, he came out, confirming what that was all about as he messed with the zipper on his pants.
Might as well, I thought. The airman pointed me to the other side. Were the toilets for officers and enlisted men separated? I wouldn’t be surprised.
When I came out, the Sergeant and one other new guy were going in two toilets across the way. I decided I needed to break the ice. The private still at the back watched me walking up.
I reached up and grabbed one of the metal bars running the length of the deck and suspended from the ceiling. He stood, legs spread and not reaching for the bar over his head but holding on to the back of a seat.
“I understand the four of us are all in the second platoon of Bravo Company.”
“Yes, sir. Sergeant Berkshire says you’re our platoon leader.”
“I’m Lieutenant Hollerman.”
“Yes, sir. He told us.”
I saw his name tag. “Do you have a first name, Rigsby?”
“Yes, sir. Stuart, sir. Stuart Rigsby.”
“I think I almost met you last night.”
He shuffled a bit, blushed, and laughed. “I thought that was you at the carpool, sir.”
“Right. That’s where I saw you. You declined the ride to quarters. Maybe you know I had been invited to that shindig, too.” I held up my left hand. “This ring is only a few months old, so I ignored my yearnings. Instead, I went to the barracks and wrote my bride a letter.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I hope you were careful.”
He looked down at the floor again. He waited a bit, made a decision, and looked up with a big grin on his face. “Yes, sir. We all were. I’ve never done a group thing before. You know?”
A group thing. Damn. That must have been something. Maybe I really was an idiot. “How many were there?”
“Four Air Force guys, two Marines, and me. And several airline people. Pilots and cabin gals. Cabin guys, too.”
I could only shake my head from side to side. There must have been a big smile on my face. “You look kinda young. New in the Army and, I assume, new to groupies. Was the place big enough … and private enough … for such a crowd?”
He looked away for a moment. Then, “Graduated from high school last May. It felt kinda big to me … me and six military guys. You know. And I think I … maybe … yeah. Everybody there touched me before it was over. That was kinda weird. Not very private, either.”
I had to laugh. “Weird. I’d say. A different world. I think I would have ended up being a watcher.”
He laughed out loud. “Oh! No, sir. You might think that standing here, but if you’d been there … . And being a guy and all… .” He twisted his mouth, looked up the aisle. “Everybody got … you know … got comfortable pretty quickly.”
I saw the sergeant and the other enlisted man coming back down the aisle. “They know?”
“No, sir.”
I was happy we were about to have a change of conversation.
An enlisted man appeared at the front of the deck pouring coffee and something else. “Liquid! Good!” I started to move through the rows back toward my seat.
I don’t know why I woke sometime later. The cabin was nearly dark. It looked like the guys up front were zonked out and, across the way, Berkshire and Rigsby were asleep. Heinz was looking at me. He nodded. I responded with a nod.
When I stood to stretch, he got up too. I watched him walk between the middle seats toward me.
“Did you get some sleep, Heinz?”
“No, sir. Thinking.”
“I reckon you saw that I did. I didn’t sleep well last night, what with the excitement of starting out.”
“Can I talk to you, sir?”
“Sure. Sit down.”
We did.
“Sir. May I be frank?”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“The guys in the barracks last night said it was the tradition to help the guys about to leave to enjoy their last night. They had a cooler full of beer. I’d not drunk beer but once or twice before but figured I might as well. I mean, considering where I’m headed.”
“Good for them. I hope you got soused.”
“No, sir. But I enjoyed all the craziness that was going on. The biggest bull shooter of the bunch finally said it was time to sack out.”
“Every soldier needs a good going away party. Sounds like your buddy across the way got one.”
“Stuart … Stuart Rigsby? He told me he thought he was going to have what he called some real action but ended up at a prayer meeting.”
“A prayer meeting?” I was puzzled and almost laughed. Which of us was he putting on? “Is that right?”
“He said that some of the pilots and stewardesses that work for Trans World Airlines started taking soldiers who were on the way to Vietnam to a service at a Catholic Church near the airport. He said they prayed for him and a bunch of other guys. A priest gave communion and took confessions of those who wanted that.” Heinz looked at me, a big grin on his face. “I think Stuart was disappointed.”
A grin was probably on my face, too. “I’ll bet.”
“Do you believe that’s what happened? I don’t know. From the way he is, I mean. And the way he talks. What I really know is that he came into the barracks before 10:00. And downed a good number of beers.”
“Well, well, well. He got prayed over and then guzzled the beer.” I’d watch this guy and worry about his truthfulness. “Anyway, Heinz. It doesn’t matter. We all like good stories. Maybe having a bunch pray for you is the best way to leave the US.” I shrugged, but still felt that smile in my head.
After Heinz went back to his seat, the notion was even stronger that I should have accepted the stewardess’s invitation!