Quote from SIL. Who is 19 going on 35... to hear him tell it. He & preppy daughter both say that on occasion... well preppy daughter just turned 21, so that's the age she uses for the saying now.
To which I do not reply as they simply would not comprehend what I would be trying to relate.
Maybe my example will make a tiny bit of sense here... Let me say at the outset I do not consider this a war story as there were no casualties. No wounded - no injuries - no shots fired - no nuttin but a little incoming mail...
Second tour in Viet Nam, things were not quite as hectic. IIRC, most of Uncle Ho's Boyz were down Cambodia way... I think - it's been a few years.
Anyway, most of 1970, I drove a gas truck & filled up construction equipment. Our compound was near Quang Tri in I Corps, and we lived in hootches as opposed to the underground bunkers @ Cam Lo near the DMZ. We lived across a ravine from a battery of Army 175 artillery pieces ( long tubes), and they would have fire missions any time of the day or night.
You'd be in the rack and hear a tiny, "
Stand by!!! followed by outgoing rounds. The concussion of which would sometimes shatter light blubs depending on the angle of the big guns.
The human ability to adapt has always been an amazement to me. Like we could sleep right through a fire mission. But. The 1st incoming round was an entirely different story!
One fine night, my squad was on the move
instantly after the first
CHAM!!!. From a dead sleep to out the door, partially equipped in under 10 seconds! It was not like any movie you might have seen - there was nobody shouting "INCOMING"... no time for petty overstatement.
So everyone bailed from their racks, grabbing stuff like boots - flak jackets - pants - hard covers - rifles... and out into the company street where there was a sandbag shelter for every so many hootches ( can't recall the actual number now) They were infested with spideys as big as pie plates & centipedes larger than garter snakes... scorpions, too. Rats? Probably.
The shelter was pretty much full when the mortar/rocket attack siren sounded... for all the good it did. A few guys had flashlights - the E-7 in there had one & shined it around so people could see to lace their boots up - put shirts & pants on - whatever.
Then guys with smokes passed them around. "Wanna smoke?" "Sure." I think just about everybody had one whether they smoked or not. I didn't smoke, but it seemed a calming thing to do. I watched when people would light up & saw no anxiety to speak of - no wide eyes... I just recall a 'resolve' if that makes any sense.
WUMP!! The barrage neared.
CHAM!! A close one, that. Dust drifted down from the sand bags that were resting on perforated steel planking ( PSP). At one point it sounded like hail or rain - which was frag or debris hitting the shelter, of course.
At the height of the barrage, the E-7 moved close to the exit and turned his flash light back on. "Okay, listen up." He didn't speak like a Sgt, but like someone offering helpful advice - which it was...
"This ain't gonna last much longer. You guys wearing flak jackets, zip & button 'em up if they ain't already. You'll be going right at whatever's coming. You un-ass the bunker, stay low while you run for the line. You'll miss some frag that way."
WUMP! WHAM!... the rounds were impacting farther away now.
"You get to the line and see 'em coming, shoot low. There's always a tendency to shoot high... you want to gut-shoot 'em if you can." Nothing atrocious here - the man was giving the best advice he knew.
Then the signal to head for the bunkers on the line. "Last one out buys breakfast", the Sgt quipped. A quick duck-walk to the exit & then a mad sprint toward the line, bent way over just like had been suggested. About halfway there, the all clear siren sounded. It was east to tell 2nd tour guys - they all kept sprinting toward their assigned bunker.
"Secure, secure!! Muster in your company street for roll call."
So it was really over. We fell in and came to attention for roll call. Everyone present. "Any wounded?" None. "Any injuries? No matter how slight?" Non of those, either. It was a prime scenario to cut one's self for a cheep purple heart, but that simply did not happen. Not only were there no casualties, there was very little actual damage. Some torn window screen - some construction material blown up & some holes in the ground, but that was about the extent of it.
"At ease!" The Capt. made a brief appearance. He seemed in a good mood and joked around. "Hey, Smith! Them white legs make a good target - wear yer pants next time!" ( much laughter over this) A few more remarks, and we were brought back to attention. "Fall out! Get some sleep - we got a big day coming up!"
Sleep? Sure. I wanted to. Then my knees started shaking. Always a couple hours afterward, that would happen. What a weenie!
Oh, did I mention nearly everyone was 19? A few 18 year-olds & a couple geezers over 20, but most were 19. Going on 35. SW
Login
Register
FAQ
....and I can relate 
And called a few unkind names. 
...and there I go again-'babbling'.... 
