DaddyDawgs
LZ

I DO SOLEMNLY SWEAR (OR AFFIRM) THAT I WILL SUPPORT AND DEFEND THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES AGAINST ALL ENEMIES, FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC; THAT I WILL BEAR TRUE FAITH AND ALLEGIANCE TO THE SAME; AND THAT I WILL OBEY THE ORDERS OF THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES AND THE ORDERS OF THE OFFICERS APPOINTED OVER ME, ACCORDING TO REGULATIONS AND THE UNIFORM CODE OF MILITARY JUSTICE. SO HELP ME GOD.

On June 14th 1965 I joined & entered the US Army. Before the year was out I found myself a lot older then 17.


Training at Foot Wood Missouri, that's me with the mark above my head.



About half of these Men (Boys) didn't make it.
I'm in the third row down, 2nd on the right side



This is our Gang while in Korea near the DMZ, I'm on the top right, the good looking one, can't miss me. Ha Ha



Saying Goodbye to my Navy Dad


3 days in Hawaii, we thought we were the Beach Boys

In 1965/66 I was known as "THE KID", that nic name was given to me cause I was just 17 years old. I hated that nic-name at first!

What does the word Combat mean to you?
Look my War page over and just maybe you can understand what it means to me.

You don't know what life is about till you have come back from the dead or came close to death, after that you have an edge over everyone else.







My name is the Kid & I'm now proud of it!
Was involved in, Code Name -Igloo White-

Recognition The wide variety of Code-names and Call-signs associated with the overall Igloo White program confuses the clarity of the subject, as all good security programs should. The very nature of Classified operations themselves imparts information only on a 'need to know' basis regardless of the participants' clearance-level. Even the staff working inside the Task Force Alpha facility were limited on which rooms they could enter, and accessed information only necessary for their specific duties. For the sake of simplicity, off duty personnel did not enquire into the nature of their associates' work in too much detail, and did not customarily associate or talk with, other service personnel outside of the hemisphere of their immediate shift or work crew. Additionally, the fact that most personnel served for only one year in Southeast Asia limited knowledge to a very narrow few at a time. On the broader front, mission activities were assigned to many different specialty units of the armed services over a decade. Complicating an understanding of the overall program was the fact that one organization would replace or absorb another's mission when it changed, or as one technology would supercede the other.




And also Flying Tackle 2 with the Rok Army White Horse and Tiger Divisions.

Plus Counter Gorilla Warfare Training with the ROK Army.
Was also involved in two Mad-Minutes, if you know what that is then you've seen all Hell break loose like I did, can't hear very good because of them.

If you were involved also, I would like to here from you.






This is our Soldier of Fortune Magazine Picture, I'm the Team Leader with every1's Helemt on my head, every1 said the Head Ass had to be covered.


My Regiment Unit "Buccaneers" Patch


Unit Patches I served in.



Click Here for 21 Gun Salute



18 AND FIGHTING TO MAKE IT TO 19

The average age of a soldier in many units here is 18-and-a-half. And what a man he is! A pink-cheeked tousled-haired, tight-muscled fellow who under normal circumstances, would be considered by society as half man, half boy, not yet dry behind the ears, a path in the unemployment chart.
But, here and now, he is the beardless hope of free men.
He is for the most part unmarried and without material possessions except for possibly an old car at home and a transistor radio here.
He listens to rock and roll--and 105mm Howitzers.
He just got out of high school within the past year, received so-so grades, played a little football, and had a girl that broke up with him when he went overseas or swears she is still faithful although he is half the world away.
He has learned to like beer by now because it is cold and the thing to do. He smokes because he gets free cigarettes in his C rations package and it is also the thing to do. He is a private first class. A one-year military veteran with one more to go. His eyes are clear but his future is not.
He never cared to much for work, preferred waxing his own car to washing his father's, but he is now 10 or 20 pounds lighter than before because he is working or fighting from dawn to dark, often longer.
He still has trouble spelling, and writing letters home is a painful process. But he can break down a rifle in 30 seconds and put it back together in 29. He can describe the nomenclature of a fragmentation grenade, explain how a machine gun operates and of course, use either if the need arises.
He can also dig foxholes, apply professional first aid to a wounded companion, march until he is told to stop or until he his told to march.
He obeys now, without hesitation. But he is not broken.
He has seen more suffering then he should have in his short life. He has stood amoung hills of bodies and he has helped to construct those hills.
He has wept in private and in public, and he has not been ashamed either place, because his pals have fallen in battle and he has come close to joining them.
And he has become self-sufficient, he has two pairs of fatigues, washing one and wearing the other. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but not his rifle. He keeps his socks dry and his canteen full. He cooks his own meals, fixes his own hurts and mends his own rips-material or mental.
He will share his water with you if you thirst, break his rations in half if you hunger, split his ammunition if you are fighting for your life.
He can do the work of two civilians, draw half the pay of one and find ironie humor in it all. He has learned to use his hands as a weapon and his weapon as hands. He can save a life, or most assuredly take one.
Eighteen-and-a-half years old.
What a man he is!

By Tom Tiede
Chinh Tams, Vietnam (NEA)




Front & Back of the 1156 Form we had to carry




Coming back from night patrol


Buddy reloading


Truck hit a land mine



This was a middle class home, it looked much better in color


The Ace of Spades has been employed, on numerous occasions, in the theatre of war. In the Second World War, the soldiers of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the American 101st Airborne Division were marked with the spades symbol painted on the sides of their helmets. In this capacity, it was used to represent good luck, due to its fortunate connotations in card playing. All four card suits were used for ease of identification of regiments within the airborne division following the confusion of a large scale combat airborne operation. Battalions within the regiments were denoted with tic marks or dots, marked from top clockwise; Headquarters at the twelve o'clock position, 1st Battalion at the three o'clock, et cetera. Some twenty years later, the Ace of Spades was again used by American soldiers — this time as a psychological weapon in the Vietnam War. US troops erroneously believed that Vietnamese ancient traditions held the symbolism of the spade to mean death and ill-fortune and in a bid to scare away NLF soldiers without firefight, it was common practice to leave an Ace of Spades on the bodies of killed Vietnamese and even to litter the forested grounds and fields with the card. This custom was erroneously believed to be so effective, that the Bicycle Playing Cards company was asked to supply crates of that single card in bulk. The crates were often marked with "Bicycle Secret Weapon". [1] The Ace of Spades, while not a symbol of superstitious fear to the VC, did help the morale of American soldiers. It was not unheard of for US soldiers and Marines to stick this card in their helmet band as a sort of anti-peace sign. More recently, in 2003 a deck of Most-wanted Iraqi playing cards issued to U.S. soldiers during Operation Iraqi Freedom; each card had the picture of a wanted Iraqi official on it. Saddam Hussein got the nickname "Ace of Spades" as his was the face which adorned that card.



Is it HOT or just BS?

This is not your World, it’s the Jungle & now you must live here. Every step you take your body reminds you, you don’t belong here. It’s so Hot you would think you could cook an egg on a rock, but that can’t happen because the Humidity is 100%. It rains then stops, it rains then stops, etc. on & on day after day. Then when it doesn’t rain you pray for it, hopping it would cool things off. You never knew you could sweat so much. The salt from your sweat mixes with the Gun Power & dirt on your face & hands till your eyes are sore & red as a beat. You no longer can wear underwear with the rash between you legs. By now your feet are pale white from water in the Rice Paddies & your fatigues & Boots are turning white from the mildew. Now that your ears are pouring out sweat it seems like they are putting a call out for every bug in the World to mess with your face. You learn to walk slow since it’s now so hot you can hardly catch your breath. Going threw your mind is “Who the Sam Hell decided to have a War here”? What were they thinking, further more what was I thinking. Then you start thinking why did I bring this or that because of the load I’m carrying. Am I packing enough Ammo for a fire fight & how long will we be out this time. Do we have enough C Rads to last. You watch the lighting in the sky & think to yourself could it hit me or one of the other guys? Here comes the rain again, straight down but you hear it hit the leaves above you before it hits you. It’s time to take a break since you can’t hear CHARLIE with the noise from the rain. The FNG’s have told us about the WAR Protesters back in the states so you think to yourself who are these people & why are they so mad at us for going into Combat for our Country. Don’t they know that what we doing is so they can say & think what & where they want. Do they think this is fun? Then the sound of bees zhipping though the leaves breaks all your thoughts in your mind. It’s no longer Hot, wet plus your aches & pains go away. All that was in your mind is gone, all that is left is fight for your life & your Buddies. All the BS is gone in Combat but the BS will be back when it’s quite again.

NOT ONLY MEN FIGHT WARS, KIDS DO TOO!

And I thought I was young. The 1 in front of me was 9 & the next kid was 11. They aren't playing!