Why Are These Guys a Funny Orange Color?
I am probably the only person who can remember where I was on Sept. 25th 1970.
After a flight from New York, I was sitting in the waiting room of the passenger
terminal of Travis AFB. I had about four hours to kill before boarding a Braniff
flight heading to the mysterious Orient.
There was little to do in that waiting room except to look out at the field.
During my wait approximately three flights arrived. These arriving flights were
what I soon would learn to refer to as freedom birds.
When the first flight arrived I looked out at the disembarking passengers, I
couldn't put my finger on the reason, but they all looked strange. The second
plane arrived sometime later, and I still had the feeling that these men looked
strange. It wasn't the fact that they were all wearing jungle fatigues, it was
something else.
My seemingly interminable wait continued and a third plane arrived. Due to sheer
boredom, I decided to concentrate on the deplaning passengers. After the third
plane load disembarked, I realized that each and every one of them was a strange
orange color. I wondered what I was getting into. Would I too come down with
some strange form of jaundice that would leave me in that condition?
Finally my flight boarded and my mind was occupied with other thoughts, such as
will this flight ever end. I solved part of this problem on our first refueling
flight in Honolulu. My solution was trying to establish a new world record for
consumption of gin & tonics in one half hour. Whether or not I established the
record, I did accomplish to put myself to sleep for a large portion of the
flight.
After various stops along the way I was assigned to A Btry 6/27th FA. I reported
to the battery at FSB Wade in Loc Ninh RVN. I looked around at the condition of
the personnel who quite frankly looked like a bunch of unwashed, unkempt
homeless people. Since this was the rainy season red mud was everywhere. I was
an officer in the United States Army, and I was determined that under no
circumstances was I going to allow myself to degenerate into that state.
I spent my first few days at Wade digging mud out of the cleats on my brand new
jungle boots secure in the knowledge that I had my kiwi shoe polish. On about my
second night the phone lines to the guns went down and Ken Kotiza (Sr FDO) sent
me down to the guns to read the fire commands to the guns. I left for the guns
making sure to stay on a path made of SSP. I arrived at the gun pad accompanied
by I think Larry Cutter with a flashlight.
I arrived at the edge of the gun pad, where everything looked solid. I did not
realize what a 175's spade did to the rainy season mud. I intrepidly marched
forward to give the commands and immediately sunk hip deep into the mud. One of
the gun bunnies, whom I later came to know as Skeeter, stood there shaking his
head probably thinking here's another stupid Lt. that we have to put up with. He
did however pull me out of the mud.
After the rounds were expended, I am sure that the gun crew spent the rest of
the night laughing themselves sick at the new dumb Lt. (I must say that if they
did they had good reason).
I trudged back to the FDC weighing probably 10 pounds more than when I left due
to the encrusted mud. When I got back to the FDC and could see myself in the
light, I came to the realization, that my can of kiwi would do no good. I then
realized two things: first, that I too would look like the homeless and more
importantly that I was about to turn that strange orange color that I had
noticed at Travis AFB.
Tom Hynes Then and
Now
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