What Did You Do In The War Buddy?

While stationed on a troop transport our Captain left the best typhoon port in Japan. That evening we were informed a typhoon had changed course and that the only thing we could do was to head into it. The following morning we were 15 miles to the rear from where we started and millions of bucks in damage. We drained sea water out of SEALED antennas on the upper masts.

At one point we took a major roll and I looked up to see one of those steel military desks flying toward me. The roll also knocked me off balance - out of the way of the desk - else I would have been a grease spot on the radio gear.

The morning after passing through the eye some of us were sitting on the deck in a passageway killing time when our American Indian radioman walked through saying "I told you if you messed with me I'd do the rain dance."

 

Sapper Woody, who seems to no longer be with us, has some stories he could tell....

For our "mentoring" job in Afghanistan, we'd have to put on our battle rattle, walk outside the camp gates, stroll through the Afghan checkpoints, about 1/2 mile down to the Afghan Ministry of Defense, through their gate guards, and sit with our counterparts for 2-6 hours each day; then back the same way. Those Afghan checkpoints were always a hoot. As my buddy Nick once said, "If you haven't had someone point an RPG at you, I guess you're just not doing your job."

 

Myself and my entire Marine recon team were arrested by Army MPs and held at gunpoint until our CO could spring us. Strange things happen in wartime.

We had been running night ambushes in the DMZ, operating out of a coastal hamlet known as Cua Viet. The mission was to intercept sappers mining the river. We had been doing that for 5 nights straight and it was time to go back to Quang Tri. No transportation was available for several hours and we received permission to "hitchhike" back on highway 1. We lined up on the main road, 8 of us in full combat gear loaded with ordnance and were picked up by an Army 6 X going to Quang Tri.

We hadn't gotten very far when the truck was stopped by MPs. The driver was arrested. We started to pile out of the truck to stick our thumbs out again and the MPs said we had to stay with the truck and they drove it back to the MP compound. We had no idea what was going on.

When we got into the MP compound, a 2nd LT ordered us to surrender our weapons. We refused. That didn't set well with the LT. He tried again. In language no one could misunderstand, I told him no again. They placed us under armed guard and kept us in the truck. We laughed at the guards and teased them. Meanwhile I had contacted Battalion on the radio and informed them of the situation and we were ordered to stay in the truck. Our CO, a mustang Captain who started in the Corps as a private in the Korean War, arrived in about an hour and gave the MP LT a steely eyed stare and ordered him into the office to discuss the matter. A few minutes later our CO came out and told us to transfer to his truck and we left.

I figured I was in big trouble, but no one ever said a word to me about refusing to obey the order to surrender our weapons. Welcome to the Marine Corps.

 

I have a faint memory of one of my Uncle's stories. He called it the great 10 hole outhouse explosion story. Apparently there was quite a lot of methane down below and somebody tossed a lighted cigarette. Anyway several guys had the skin and hair burned off their backside. Everyone knew who they were because they stood during mess hall meals. This is the kind of story those who risked it all for us tell. This one came from a heavy bomber (B24) air base near Burma.

 

You wish.

 

Again. You hope.

 

I don't believe an order by an MP officer to someone under arrest (rightfully or not) to surrender their weapons would ever be considered "unlawful" in a military court.

 

I'm still here, Don. Just been out for a bit, lol. I'll keep my post to just one story!

Our main job in Afghanistan was escorting convoys to resupply little outposts that the US shared with Afghan troops, and some times Jordanians. We did route clearance to make sure that the way was safe. Even though the outposts were not too far away, our maximum allowed clearing speed was 4kph. So it took us all day to go a few dozen kilometers.

We ran a routine run to a little outpost that we'd been to half a dozen times. We didn't have our 18-wheeler flatbed with us (which we used to take along for trucks that got hit), and so we were able to pull into the outpost, rather than "circling the wagons" and keeping a guard like the normally did.

That night, we were all laying down for the night, when one of the guns in the tower let off a stream of anywhere from 80-150 rounds. We all jumped up and were getting our gear on, but there was absolute silence. Our LT went up to the tower with our terp, and we waited to see if we needed to man the wall.

Our LT came back, laughing his head off. There was an Afghan in the tower. According to him, the Afghan intelligence said that the Taliban was going to disguise themselves as sheep in order to get close enough to little outposts to attack. So, when a poor shepherd wandered too close with his flock, the Afghan mowed the entire flock down with his gun!