A Fear of Dying: A Soldier's Story

By Brewster MaCoy

A Fear of Dying is a story about a young man who would never have been drafted into the military because of his medical condition. He carried his medical records with him to the induction center and referred to them as his (Ace in the Hole). Because of his smart mouth and his attitude, he got drafted anyhow.

Once he realized that he was not going to get out of the Army, he decided to be the best soldier that he could possibly be. He became a Chopper pilot on a gun ship and served two tours in Viet Nam.

The story talks about both his and other soldiers experiences, fears, courage, compassion, and humor that they shared with each other during their tours in Viet Nam.

The story talks about the friendships and relationships that the soldiers built with each other. The story shares what they were willing to do for each other to protect those friendships, and how they each handled the deaths of both friends and comrades.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477114353

Brewster MaCoy

Brewster is from the north central United States, and a Viet Nam veteran. Brewster spent more than ten years listening to various stories and experiences told to him by Viet Nam veterans, and decided to make the stories into a book. Brewster’s intention for writing this book was to share some of the experiences that Viet Nam veteran’s had to endure. Many Viet Nam veterans were to young and naïve to understand the politics involved in the war. It was very difficult for many of the soldiers returning home not only to understand the protesting going on, but to be called names and to be persecuted for doing their duty and serving their country. Brewster’s hope in writing this book is to remind the American people that many of these young men did not volunteer to join the military, they were drafted. The Viet Nam veteran only did what they were asked to do, and did not deserve to be treated the way that they were when they returned home to the country that they served.

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Copyright © 2012 by Brewster MaCoy.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2012908902

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4771-1434-6

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4771-1433-9

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4771-1435-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Dedication

1      Ace in the Hole

2      Basic Training

3      Flight Training

4      My First Leave at Home

5      The Homestretch

6      Saying Good-Bye

7      The First Tour

8      Finding a Home

9      The Second Tour

10      Going Home

Epilogue

Dedication

War is a very powerful, human, and personal experience and can only be truly understood by those individuals who have had the experience, of serving in a war zone. My experiences have been locked deep within me for close to forty years, mainly because of the shame, guilt, and fear of those experiences returning to me in flashbacks during the lonely darkness of the night.

Forty years is a long enough time to carry the guilt, shame, and burden for something that I did not create and should no longer have to feel responsible.

I dedicate this book to a very special person, Jeanna, my best friend, my companion, and my wife. Love is also a very powerful, human, and personal experience. Because of her love for me, her trust in me, her understanding, and her encouragement, my feelings of shame and guilt have been released from within.

I now feel that I can share my thoughts, my feelings, and my experiences with others. God help us because the memories will never go away. We only did what we were asked to do, and we did it very well.

Love, Brewster

1

Ace in the Hole

It was early August 1966, and I was spending the weekend at the lake with a few of my friends, soaking up some sun and downing a few beers. While I was enjoying my first beer of the day, Steve yelled out the cabin door that my mom was on the phone. My first thought was that something had happened to my dad, because my mom would never call me at the lake unless something was wrong. When I answered the phone, she told me that I had gotten a letter from my uncle. My first reaction was who cares, and why call to tell me. After thinking about it for a moment, I replied what Uncle, and she said Uncle Sam. Well, I about crapped in my pants. I told her to open the letter and read it to me. The letter said congratulations! Your friends and neighbors have chosen you above many others to do your duty and serve your country, etc., etc. Please report to the induction center on September 19, 1966, at 5:30 a.m. In other words, my ass just got drafted. I knew that it would happen sooner or later because I had not registered for college. However, I wasn’t worried because I had my ace in the hole.

I have had bleeding ulcers since I was fifteen, and my doctor told me that when I received my draft notice to give him a call and he would put together the necessary x-rays and paperwork that I would need to be given a deferment and sent back home.

My mom got up really early the morning that I had to report to the induction center and fixed a nice big breakfast. My dad was going to drop me off on his way to work and pick me up when I was done. When Dad and I were walking out the door, Mom said, We will see you at suppertime. I’m making one of your favorites.

I arrived at the induction center right at 5:30 a.m., and as soon as I walked in the door, I was told to report to the locker room and take off everything but my underwear. I was just starting to undress and this young soldier walked into the room and asked if anyone knew anything about printing. Since graduation I had been working with my mother in our friend’s print shop, so I asked him what he needed. The soldier said that he needed someone to operate a copy machine. Me being a smart-ass and having my ace in the hole in an envelope under my arm, I replied apparently you’re not smart enough to push a button, and he replied come with me, smart-ass.

I had been making copies for about three, maybe four hours when this other soldier with all kinds of stripes on his arm came walking by and asked me what I was doing. I thought, Great! Another rocket scientist and told him I was making copies what does it look like I’m doing. He was really pissed off about my attitude, but he held his cool and asked me how long I had been making copies, and if I was there for my physical. I told him that I had been making copies since I arrived at the reception station, and no, I had not yet had a physical. Wow, he really lost it and started yelling and swearing and wanted to know who the hell had me making copies all day, and then went storming away. When he returned, he told me to follow him so he could get things straightened out. He brought me to see an officer to explain what had happened, and when I was done talking with him, he asked me to step outside. I could hear the officer and the other soldier talking about what they were going to do. When they were done talking, the soldier came out and told me to follow him. He brought me into a large auditorium and told me to stand in line with everybody else and follow directions. The next thing that I knew, I was raising my right hand and being sworn into the army. I waited until everything was done and went back to the soldier and told him about my ace in the hole. When I explained everything to the soldier, he really lost it, and back to the officer’s office we go and he goes into a complete rage about how did this happen, this will look like shit on their record, his superiors will have his ass and on and on and on. When the yelling stopped, they again asked me to step out of the office. When the soldier came out, he told me that there was nothing that they could do at this point, so they would be sending me to basic training along with everyone else. They told me that the first chance that I had, I needed to go on sick call and show the doctor my ace in the hole, and he would take care of the necessary paperwork and get me sent back home.

I was given a plane ticket and told to report to the auditorium and wait for further instructions. It took about fifteen minutes before I realized what had just happened. I asked the soldier in charge if I could make a phone call home to let my parents know what was going on, and he said, You better make it fast because the busses are on their way here to take you to the airport. I called my mother at work, and when she answered the phone, I told her that I was going to be late for supper, and she asked me how late. I said apparently two years. I quickly explained as much as I could to her about what had happened and told her that I would call her again as soon as I had a chance. Her response was, That’s where that smart-ass mouth of yours gets you. My mom was the kind of person that would make remarks like, if you fall out of that tree and break your leg, don’t come running to me as if I could. When I hung up the phone, I just stood there like an idiot thinking why I opened my big mouth.

When the busses dropped us off at the airport, everyone was getting in line to check their baggage, and I just stood off to the side considering the only baggage I had was my ace in the hole. After everyone had checked their baggage, we were taken to a separate area away from all of the other passengers. While we were waiting, I noticed a guy on the other side of the room that lived down the street from our house, so I went over to say hello. His name was Bruce; I didn’t know him very well because he went to the Catholic school in town. He seemed really nervous, so I asked him if he was okay, and he said he was really afraid of going to Vietnam and asked me if I was afraid. I told him no because I was going to be sent home as soon as I went on sick call and the doctor had seen my ace in the hole. Bruce said, Man, you are a lucky son of a bitch. I wish they could find something wrong with me and send me back home again. While we were talking, a soldier came into our waiting area and told us that his name was Corporal Anderson and that he would be our escort to the reception station in Fort Lewis, Washington. I told Bruce, Well, at least now we know were we are going. It was around 6:00 p.m. when they finally announced that we could board our flight, and Bruce and I decided that we would stick together and help each other out and watch each other’s back. When we boarded the plane and took our seats, I told Bruce that I hope they give us something to eat because I was starving. Bruce asked me if I ate lunch, and I told him I was busy making copies all day long, and then told him the story about my ace in the hole, and my smart-ass mouth; all he could do was laugh. They never gave us anything to eat on the plane, so when we landed, I asked Corporal Anderson if we were ever going to get something to eat. He told us that it was a long bus ride to the base and that we would be stopping at a restaurant along the way. It was around 10:15 p.m. when we landed in Washington that evening, and we were loaded onto two different busses, Bruce and I made sure that we got on the same bus so we could stick together. During the bus trip, it was very quiet; you could hear a pin drop. When we stopped to eat, everyone seemed to be really quiet all through the meal; I don’t know why, maybe because it had already been a long day and everyone was just tired or maybe because we were all afraid of the unknown. When we arrived at the reception station in Fort Lewis, it was around 1:00 a.m. The bus driver pulled off to the side of the road and told everyone to stay on the bus, and he went into the building and never returned. It seemed like we waited for the longest time, and then the door of the building opened and this huge black guy wearing a Smokey the Bear hat came onto the bus and just started to scream, Get off this fucking bus, trainees, and I mean now. All I want to see is assholes and elbows. This guy looked like King Kong. Everyone was so scared that we all made a mad dash for the door, and there was nothing but a pile of bodies outside the bus on the ground trying to run over each other. King Kong told us to line up on the lines painted on the street in front of the reception station. Some long blonde-haired hippy from California yelled out, Hey, Smokey, where’s the fire? King Kong walked around to the back of him and said It’s up your ass, and then put his boot about halfway up the guy’s ass and lifted him right off the ground. That pretty much got our attention; and from that point on, we were like putty in his hands.

After Blondie recovered, we were taken inside and seated at long tables that were stacked with all kinds of papers. King Kong then introduced himself and the soldiers that were working in the reception station. We spent the next two or three hours filling out all kinds of paperwork. I told the soldier that seemed to be in charge about my ace in the hole. I was told to report to sick call as soon as I could after arriving at basic training. He told me to just continue to do what everyone was doing and that in the first formation in the morning that they would make an announcement asking if anyone needs to go on sick call.

I was starting to feel a little more relaxed after finding out how to go about reporting for sick call and was looking forward to the next day. When we finished the paperwork, we were marched over to the supply room to check out bedding and be assigned sleeping quarters. Everyone was laughing all the way to the supply room because we had no idea in hell about how to march, and we were all stepping over each other’s feet. It was around 4:30 a.m. when we finally arrived at the barracks and were told to go inside, pick out a bunk, make our bed, and get good night’s sleep.

We all went inside and selected a bunk; I took one on the bottom, and Bruce took the one above me. After we made our bunks, I decided to just sit down and have a nice relaxing cigarette; Bruce jumped down and asked if he could join me, and, of course, I said yes. We had just started to smoke our cigarettes when all of a sudden the door flew open and the lights came on, and there in the doorway was standing a black guy that had shoulders as wide as he was tall with a slender waist. This boy was well built. He had more patches and stripes on his uniform than you could imagine. His boots were so shiny that you could see the lights from the ceiling shining from them. When I looked at his face, I almost shit my pants. I could see a look of hate and emptiness in his eyes, and he looked like the devil himself. He had short curly hair that was accented by a Smokey the Bear hat. His voice sounded like it came from the center of the earth. He started yelling for us to get our asses out of the racks and stand at attention in front of our bunks. I looked down at my cigarette, which I had just begun to smoke, and thought, Man, that was the shortest eight hours of sleep that I ever had. I heard a voice in the background yell out fuck you. Both Bruce and I looked at each