A Would-Be Adventurist’S Quest for Combat: Experiences of a Us Army Draftee During Lbj’S Vietnam Buildup

By John Veteran

In September 1966, at the age of twenty-four, Dalton Henson was drafted into the US Army at the height of President Lyndon B. Johnsons Vietnam buildup that would increase to five hundred thousand the number of US military personnel in the country.

Henson, who had held a draft-exempt status up until thenhaving been a college student and then a schoolteacher (athletic coach for one year)took basic training at Fort Benning, Georgia, then was stationed at a military reservation in California for nine months and then volunteered to be sent to Vietnam.

Being much under the influence of Ernest Hemingways fiction, he was certain that experiencing combat would be the ultimate adventure, and he continued volunteering to try to place himself in combat situations.

This fact-based novel recounts his experiences as he travels around the combat-torn nation at the height of the Tet Offensive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503519886

John Veteran

Author Bio: Coming Soon

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Copyright © 2015 by John Veteran.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015900208

ISBN:      Hardcover                              978-1-5035-1986-2

                Softcover                                 978-1-5035-1987-9

                eBook                                      978-1-5035-1988-6

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Rev. date: 04/28/2015

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CONTENTS

Preface

I Hunter Liggett Military Reservation, California - A Midnight Bicycle Ride Toward The Ocean

II Dong Ba Thin, Vietnam The Night The Tet Offensive Began

III Central Highlands Of Vietnam Engineers Save Dak To From The VC

IV Bicycling Across California

PREFACE

Dalton Henson graduated from the University of South Florida in Tampa in June 1965, with a degree in physical education. He was employed as a physical education teacher and athletic coach at a junior high school in Tampa during the 1965–1966 school year. On July 30, 1966, he turned twenty-four years old, and on September 14, he was inducted as a draftee into the US Army.

After having a basic training at Fort Benning, Georgia, he was ordered to report for duty at Fort Ord, California, on December 2.

This book begins on December 1, with Dalton’s arrival in San Francisco.

I

Hunter Liggett Military Reservation,

California - A Midnight Bicycle

Ride toward the Ocean

Dalton reached San Francisco on Thursday afternoon, December 1, at about two o’clock. He was required to report to Fort Ord on Friday, so he spent the night in San Francisco at an old hotel at the corner of Market and Powell streets. Right outside the hotel, on Powell Street, was where the famous cable cars turned around. On Friday, he went to two movies, walked around town awhile, and left on a train for Fort Ord at about five o’clock.

When he reached Fort Ord early that night, he was assigned to a transient barracks and learned he would not be assigned permanently to Fort Ord but to an outpost, Hunter Liggett Military Reservation, fifty or sixty miles to the south. This pleased him, as he pleasantly envisioned exploring the mountainous wilderness.

After processing in at Fort Ord, he left Monday morning at about eight o’clock on a military bus nearly filled with soldiers. The bus traveled on a straight, flat four-lane highway through a vast valley with mountain ranges visible in the distance on both sides. About forty-five minutes after leaving Fort Ord, they turned to a two-lane road and drove through rural country for about fifteen minutes until entering the military reservation. They came to a group of small unpainted wooden buildings and several men got out. Then they continued to a much larger group of small unpainted wooden buildings, and all the others got out except Dalton and two other young men.

Just beyond there, they came to the base of a small hill where there were some one-story light-green wooden buildings, and at the top of the hill, they entered an area of many widely spaced buildings of varied architectural design. They turned onto a vast paved area and stopped in front of a large building with a tin exterior.

Headquarters company, the driver said.

That was where Dalton would be assigned, so he got out along with the other two young men. The sun was shining, and the air was cool. The area seemed desolate, and he felt nervousness and dread. He wished he had been stationed at Fort Ord.

The other two young men were also just being assigned there, and the three of them walked together across the paved area, each carrying his duffel bag and a suitcase, toward several light green wooden buildings. In front of one building was a sign Headquarters, so they went inside into a hallway. They entered the first room where a woman wearing civilian clothes sat at a desk. She told them they should report to the headquarters company orderly room.

They continued across the paved area to the orderly room where a young private first class gave them some forms and said to take them several places to have them signed and then take their records to the personnel office. He told them to leave their duffel bags and suitcases outside, and they would be assigned to a barracks that afternoon. Dalton got his records folder from his suitcase.

Among the places they had to go were S2 and S3, which were located in the headquarters building where they had been previously. A sign above a door at the end of the hallway read S3, so they went inside an office where two young sergeants were sitting on their desks.

Hello, one of them said in a friendly voice. He was medium built and had neatly combed black hair.

We just got here, and we’re supposed to have these forms signed, Dalton said.

The sergeant took the forms and began signing them.

Where can we find S2? Dalton asked.

This is S2 too, the sergeant said, smiling. Then he asked Dalton, Are you a college graduate?

Yes, Dalton said.

Can you type? the sergeant asked.

About sixty words a minute.

How would you like to be a clerk?

Dalton pleasantly envisioned himself sitting in an office, typing.

I’d like it, he said.

The sergeant looked toward the other one.

He’s leaving tomorrow—getting out of the army, he said. We’re looking for somebody.

Yeah, I’d like it, Dalton said eagerly.

I’ll ask about it and see what I can do, the sergeant said.

The next and last place they went was the personnel office, which was the office they entered when they first arrived. The woman was still at the desk, and a young specialist fourth class was also at a desk now. He told them they would have to wait until the personnel sergeant arrived and assigned them to their places of duty.

They sat down and the personnel sergeant, a young man, arrived about thirty minutes later. He looked at Dalton’s records and saw that his military occupational specialty (MOS) was recreation specialist and said he would be assigned to the crafts shop. Dalton felt a surge of dread and anxiety because he was bored by making crafts items and was certain he would be incompetent and discontent working at a crafts shop. However, he tried to look agreeable and confident.

He much preferred being a clerk in the S3 office, so he returned there and told the sergeant his situation.

Well, go on down there, and I’ll see if I can’t arrange to get you transferred back up here, the sergeant said.

The crafts shop was one of the buildings at the base of the small hill the bus had come up. Dalton walked down the hill and saw a sign, Crafts Shop, in front of a small light green wooden building and went inside. A young sergeant was standing in the front room. He was of medium height, muscularly built, and had curly red hair.

Hello! the sergeant said in a friendly voice.

I’m Private Henson. I was supposed to report here, Dalton said.

Well, we’re glad to have you with us, the sergeant said in an enthusiastic, friendly voice, which had an accent Dalton associated with people from the rural South.

Two other young privates first class were also in the room. One was white and the other black. The sergeant introduced them to Dalton, and they both mumbled unfriendly greetings.

The sergeant began telling Dalton about the operations of the crafts shop, and the two privates talked to each other. The white one talked loudly in an aggressive, cynical voice, with an accent Dalton associated with people from the Northeast, and Dalton immediately disliked him. He was slightly overweight and had curly blond hair. The black private only spoke occasionally in a quiet, disinterested voice.

Dalton decided to tell the sergeant about the possibility of him becoming a clerk in the S3 office, hoping the sergeant could help him be reassigned.

A sergeant at the S3 office said they needed a clerk, and he was asking me about transferring there, he said. One of the sergeants they’ve got there is leaving tomorrow.

Is that right? the sergeant said solemnly.

Dalton strained to think of a subtle way to say he would like to transfer.

I never had much knowledge about crafts, he said. I’m interested in sports, mainly.

Well, you came to the right place, the sergeant said. We’re in charge of all the sports around here.

That information pleasantly surprised Dalton, but he still preferred being reassigned as a clerk.

It was nearly noon, and the sergeant told Dalton to stay there while he and the two privates went to dinner. They left, and Dalton went into an adjacent workshop where there were tables containing power saws and other tools and some ceramic items.

The white private returned after about thirty minutes. Dalton tried to be friendly, but the private seemed resentful of him.

Dalton walked to the mess hall and sat alone at a table, and the crafts shop sergeant came up to him and said in a friendly voice, Why don’t you go ahead and take the rest of the afternoon off and get moved in?

Dalton moved into the