I had been searching for Bob for many years
when I decided to find him no matter what it took. I would like to say
that I was very sorry to hear that Bob passed away in 1995 in Oregon.
This story is true and is dedicated to his memory....
To start
with, Bob was a good man. He had a great sense of humor, loved music
and fast cars. We both graduated from High School in 1968. I was a
jock and a drinker from the hills, Jackson, CA, and Bob was a stoner
from the city, Vallejo, CA. We normally would not have gotten along so
well, but we had one common thread, we were both from northern
California and were thrown into the US Army at a young age. Even though
I was only with Bob from February 1969 to October 1969, I had made a
friend for life. I have often thought about him and what he was doing
throughout my life. I will miss him....
I met Bob on February
13th, 1969, at Fort Lewis, Washington. I was drafted into the US Army
as Bob had enlisted. We were both 18 years old, standing in line to go
into the chow hall for breakfast. Before we knew it, we were getting
our hair cuts and receiving our new G.I. clothes and boots. Bob and I
were bunk mates. Bob had made friends with the boys from the bay area
of California and I had 3 friends from my county. There were about 12
of us from California. During this time, Basic Training, we were
confined to our company area because of the Spinal Meningitis that was
going around the Army bases. We could not leave the company area for
the 8 weeks of Basic, so Bob and I spent a lot of time together during
our free time. We would hang out drinking beer, eating pizza and
playing pool. At other times, we would spend our time writing home and
listening to music. Bob liked the heavier music, (Iron Butterfly and
Led Zeppelin) to name two, while I was into the Motown type of music (
Four Tops, Little Stevie Wonder). They kept us really busy mentally and
physically in Basic and before we knew it, our 8 weeks were up and we
graduated.
The date was around April 13, 1969. Bob and I were
assigned to Advanced Infantry Training which was located just a crossed
the parade field. We lost more than a half of our California friends
after graduation. Again, we were confined to our company area. Bob and
I were again bunk mates. We were in "AIT" for another 8 weeks. We
continue our same routine of hanging out, drinking beer, eating pizza
and hamburgers, playing pool and listening to music while we wrote
letters home. One late morning Saturday, Bob was laying at the foot of
my bunk as I sat there reminiscing about home. I noticed that Bob was
unwrapping a piece of gum and started to fold the tin foil wrapper into
what was starting to look like a 1st Lieutenant bar. As we were talking
back and forth, Bob looked up at me and said, "you want to go and mess
with the guys over in Basic"? I ask him what he was talking about. He
said, "the barracks next to the barracks that we were assigned to in
Basic, has a 1st Lieutenant that looks a lot like you from a distance.
If I can get this tin foil wrapper to stick to your hat, we will go over
there and mess with them on how dirty their barracks look and order
them to clean it up." Being 18 years old, we didn't consider that we
could get into a lot of trouble for impersonating an officer, but it was
something to do besides going stir crazy. Bob used some gum and believe
it or not, the home made silver looking bar looked just like a 1st
Lieutenant's silver bar. Bob and I went a crossed the parade field up
to the barracks and Bob went inside first and yelled, "Officer on the
floor!" Someone yelled, "attention", and everyone ran to the front of
the bunks and came to attention. I started to walk down the center of
the bottom floor and started to yell, "this place looks like shit, I
want this place cleaned up immediately or someone will pay." It
appeared that our impersonation was working for about half way down the
barracks when someone said, "he's not our Lieutenant, he is someone
else". I knew we were had, the fake silver bar has fallen off, so I
turned around and looked at Bob as he turned and around and started to
run. We were chased out of the barracks and down the hill. We ran as
the Basic Training guys stopped at the hill as they could not cross the
parade field or they would be in trouble. Once back at our barracks,
and after we caught our breaths, we laughed and laughed and of course,
told all of our friends of what he just did.
For the last two
weeks of AIT, the Army lifted the Spinal Meningitis confinement. We had
a formation and was told by the Sergeant that we were free to go on a
weekend pass but the stay away from a street called Pike Street in
Seattle because it was a bad area. As soon as the formation was over
Bob and I ran over to the taxi cabs that were waiting for us. Bob and I
quickly got into a cab along with two other GI's. The cabbie asked us,
"where to"? in which Bob quickly replied, "take us to Pike Street".
Before we knew it, we were on Pike Street. The bus station was on Pike
Street and I am not sure but I think the Sergeant said to stay away from
Pike Street because he didn't want anyone to go AWOL to home. We
stopped in several bars but we couldn't get served because we were under
age. Bob did ask an older gentle men if he would buy us a beer from
the local liquor store and the man came back out with two cans of beer
for us. Bob and I rented a room in Seattle for the night and the next
morning was Sunday, Mother's Day. Bob and I went to the Space Needle
and went to the top of it. We found a pay phone and Bob and I took
turns calling home and telling our mothers Happy Mother's Day. Before
we knew it, Bob and I were graduating from AIT. We received our new
Orders. They were sending Bob and me to Fort Benning, Georgia, for Non
Commissioned Officer's School after a 2 week leave to home. Bob and I
were the only two picked out of AIT to go to NCO School. This meant
that Bob and I would be leaving the last of our other California friends
as soon as we left on Leave. Bob and I thought about it and were
really reluctant to be going to NCO School, because after 12 weeks and
completion, we would be promoted to 18 and 19 year old Sergeants and be
shipped to Vietnam and be in charge of an Infantry Squad. We went to
our Sergeant and explained that we had thought that we would not make
good Sergeants with out some type of experience and how could we get out
of the assignment. Our Sergeant went on to explain that it would not
be a problem, just wait until we get to Georgia and tell the Sergeant in
charge at NCO School that we did not want to be there and he would take
care of it, with no problems.
Bob had purchased an airplane
ticket to home and my Mother, Sister and my best friend Chris, from High
School, drove to Fort Lewis and picked me up after graduation for the
ride back to home. The date was around June 13th, 1969. Bob and I were
home on a two week leave getting ready to go to Fort Benning, Georgia,
for NCO School. Bob drove to Jackson and picked me up while on leave
because he had two tickets to Iron Butterfly who was playing at Fillmore
West in San Francisco, CA. I had never been to a concert in the Bay
Area before, especially one with Iron Butterfly playing. Oh, I had been
to a half a dozen or so in Sacramento, but nothing like a hard core
band and not in San Francisco where there were lots of hippies.We
arrived at the Fillmore a few minutes before the warm-up band started.
There were lots of people attending this concert. As I looked around,
trying to take it all in, Bob was not impressed like I was. "Have you
been here before", I yelled over the crowd noise? "Yes, just follow
me", Bob replied. There were no chairs, everyone was sitting on the
floor with their legs crossed. Rows after rows, just like there were
chairs. Smoke filled the air in the dim lit room we were in. You
could see the smoke going up through the lights that were shinning on
the stage. I asked Bob if there were any cops there, and he said
"yes". I said, "I guess they don't care if we smoke"? Bob said, "they
won't bother anybody". This was crazy, this wasn't anything like
Memorial Auditorium in Sacramento.
What little light that was
on, suddenly dimmed. The warm up band started to play. I was still
trying to take it all in. Bob and I were sitting on the floor with our
legs crossed. Bob was on my left as we faced the stage. We were near
the back of the rows of people. Since everyone was sitting on the
floor, everyone had a good view of the raised stage, not a bad view from
anywhere. I looked behind us and I could see two San Francisco City
Police Officers. As the music played, the man on my right nudged me
with his elbow and as I turned to look at him, he had a jug of wine in
his hand and passed it to me. I looked at the wine and was trying to
figure out why he passed it to me, Bob said, "pass it to me". I gave
it to Bob and he took a drink out of it and then passed it to the guy on
his left. All of a sudden, the guy on my right nudged me again, he had
a lit doobie and was passing it to me. I took a glance of my right
shoulder to see what the cops were doing. They were just watching
everybody, not doing anything, like Bob said. Next, the guy on my right
passed me a hand full of pills. I turned and gave them to Bob who in
turn passed them on. At the end of the concert, one of the band members
took his guitar and smashed on the stage. The guitar start on fire and
the smoke really started to fill the room. I knew I was on a contact
high from the marijuana, but I wasn’t sure if the fire on stage was real
or part of the show. No one was moving too fast to put out the fire,
so I guess it was part of the show. What a show, what a night for this
Jackson Boy.
I left California on a Friday afternoon and
arrived in Georgia around 9:00 p.m. and after getting processed in, it
was around 11:30 p.m.. It was so hot and humid that I sweated all
night. I met Bob on Saturday. After he checked in, he found me, where I
was holding the lower bunk for him so we could be bunkies again. We
reminisced about our short 2 week leave. Taking turns telling our
stories of seeing friends, parties we attended, catching up with the
family. We discussed about how we were going to tell the Sergeant in
charge on Monday how we did not want to participate in the NCO School
because we did not want to go to Vietnam being young Sergeants with no
experience and being in charge of other GI's. Our plan was made. Both
of us took the rest of the day and walked around the Base finding the
Chow Hall, EM Club and PX. When Sunday came, Bob and I decided that we
needed to go down on the track and run a few laps to try and get
acclimated to the heat and humidity. After the second lap around the
track, Bob was red as a beat and I was sick to my stomach. We thought,
if it is this bad here, what is Vietnam going to be like. We didn't
know for sure we were going to be going to Vietnam but being young
Infantry men, our chances were very good.
The date was around
June 27th, 1969. It was Monday morning and all 200 men that were
assigned to this NCO School were in formation. Bob and I stood in the
last row in the formation. The Sergeant In Charge went on to explain
what would be covered in School and if we successfully complete the
School we would be promoted to Sergeant E-5. It would be a promotion
two ranks above our current rank, just by completing the School. Bob
and I were not buying his BS. The last thing the Sergeant said before we
were going to be dismissed to get ready to go to our first training
class was, "anyone here that doesn't want to be here, raise your hand".
Like clock work, Bob and I raised our hands as high as we could in the
air so he could identified us. He then said, "everybody except the 2
that raised their hands are dismissed to go and get ready for class.
Bob and I were starting to think that we were given bad advise from our
Sergeant in Fort Lewis. The Sergeant made a bee line to where Bob and I
were standing. He wanted to know why we didn't want to attend his NCO
School. Bob and I took turn explaining why we thought it wasn't a good
idea for the two us to complete the training and be sent to Vietnam as
young Sergeants. He went on to explain to us that it wasn't that easy
to get out of NCO School once we were assigned to it. The only way we
could get out of it was to be kicked out of it and if that was what we
wanted, he would make sure our next duty assignment would be Vietnam.
He then dismissed us and told us to think about it and to go and get
ready for class. Bob and I decided to give NCO School a chance. We
complete the first week of class. NCO wasn't really that bad and if we
had really want to complete it, I know that both Bob and I could have
made it through without any problems. Bob and I decided that if the
only way we could get out of NCO School was to get kicked out then that
is what we would do. Each Friday afternoon, the 200 man class would
have an inspection of our selves and equipment. We came up with the
plan that when the Sergeant came and stood in front of us, looking us up
and down, as we stood there at attention with our rifles in front of,
that when the Sergeant went to snatch the rife out or our hands to
inspect the cleanliness of it, that we drop the gun right as he reached
for it. Our plan was set. We knew that being that careless with our
rifles would get us kicked out for sure.
On the up coming Friday,
Bob was standing a few men away from me in line as the Sergeant made he
way to him. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the whole thing
unfold. Just as soon as the Sergeant went to snatch the rifle from
Bob's hands, Bob dropped the gun right in the dirt. The timing was
perfect. The Sergeant was so mad that I think he they were alone he may
have swung at Bob. "Soldier get down and get that rifle and you are on
Report". We never been on Report, but I knew we were on the right
track to be kick out of NCO School. The Sergeant was getting closer to
me and I was getting nervous. I figured that he might think that the
same thing was going to happen with me. I had to think quick. As he
ordered me to attention, there was no hesitation before he was snatching
the rifle from my hands. I knew that I couldn't drop it because there
was no hesitation, no time to react. So, I did the only thing I could, I
did not let go of the rifle once he tried to snatch it from me. As I
looked at him, he let up on his grip from the rifle and once he did I
let go and right to the ground my gun went. Again, he yelled, "Soldier
get down and get that rifle and you are on Report". The deed had been
completed and the wheels were in motion.
After formation, the
Sergeant dismissed everyone for a 2 day weekend leave except for Bob and
I. He said that he knew what we were up to and that we were on report
and that he would be watching our every move. He said that what we did
was strike one and we had two more to go He then ordered us to do KP
(Kitchen Patrol) for the next 2 days and that we would not be going on 2
day leave like everyone else. Bob and I spent 8 hours on Saturday and 8
hours on Sunday in a 10x10 foot building, filled with potatoes with a
big garbage disposal in the floor in the center. The only thing we had
was a potato peeler We were separated and we each had our own building
to peal in. This gave me plenty of time to re-thing our decision of
trying to get kicked out of NCO School, but after talking with Bob at
night, we were more convinced that we were doing the right thing for our
circumstances. The next week of classes, we would receive strike two
and three. Bob asked around and he heard that we were going to be
training in CS gas. Putting on and clearing our gas masks and making
sure all is clear before we gave the order to take the mask off. Bob
and I picked out a person who we were going to mess with in Gas training
because we figured he would tell on us to the Sergeant if we were up to
no good. During the CS gas training we knew that the signal was when
we heard the pop the gas grenade makes when it is deployed. Our plans
were set. Bob stood on one side of our victim and I stood on the
victim's other side. Bob and I were just waiting on the pop sound as
the Sergeant was giving some long drawn out speech when the grenade was
deployed. Our victim was the first one in our group to yell, "Gas".
Once that was said, everyone was supposed to take out their gas masks
and put them on and clear them. The victim reached for his mask and as
soon as he put it in front of his face to put it on, Bob slapped the
mash out of his hands and it fell right on the ground. As soon as the
victim bent over to pick it up, I kick the mask as far as I could away
from him. CS gas will make you cry and makes it hard to breath but we
knew that the victim saw Bob's face and I know that he looked right at
my name tag on my uniform. Strike two was on it's way. After training,
our victim went right to the Sergeant and told him the whole story.
After training that day, the Sergeant held Bob and I over and just
looked at us and the only thing he said was, "strike two".
Bob
and I were cigarette smokers in the Army like most Army guys. At NCO
School, you had to Field Strip a cigarette once you were through with
it. That meant when you were finished smoking the cigarette you rolled
it through your fingers and let the tobacco fall on the ground but you
had to keep the cigarette paper and filter in your pocket until you
could find a garbage can to dispose of it. The Sergeants would not
stand to find a cigarette on the ground that was not Field Stripped.
Strike three was being planned. On Wednesday night, while Bob and were
at the EM club having a few beers and playing a few games of pool, we
decided that every cigarette that we smoked that night, we would put in
our pockets and take them back and scatter them in our company area.
This would make the Sergeants furious and they would be looking for any
smokers who drop cigarettes on the ground without Field Stripping them
first. Strike three was now in place after Bob and I threw out butts on
the ground before we went into the barracks. The next morning, none of
the Sergeants mentioned anything about cigarette butts. It was School
as normal. Around 10:00 a.m., we were released from class for a break.
Once outside, about 8 of us from the class started to smoke. I knew
something was up because I didn't see any Sergeants outside. I told Bob
that I think we were being watched. As we finished up our cigarettes,
Bob and I decided that we would just flip ours on the ground while
everybody else Field Stripped theirs. Just as Bob and I flipped our
cigarettes in the air, before they even touched the ground, three
Sergeants came from no where and busted us. "So you like littering?
Here is what happens to people who litter, you two are on report and you
just make Strike Three. You will finish your day policing cigarette
butts and you will be confined to the barracks until given further
order." Well, it worked, Bob and I were officially kicked out of NCO
School.
We were told that we would have to move out of the NCO
barracks and into a holding barracks. There we would be assigned to a
work detail and as long as we did not get into any further trouble we
would receive Orders to our next duty assignment. This process could
take up to 2 more months. Bob and I were at Fort Benning, Georgia from
June 27th, 1969 to August 28th, 1969. I was assigned to an OCS (Officer
Candidate School) brigade and worked the night shift from 6:00 p.m. to
4:00 a.m. sitting in their day room to answer the telephone in case of
emergencies. Bob had a similar duty but was assigned to another NCO
brigade.
It was around the middle of August when Bob and I were
informed that our orders were cut. Bob and I went up to the mail room
and were handed the Orders. Just as we expected, both of us were
assigned to Vietnam and starting August 28th, we would be shipped home
for a 30 day leave before reporting back to Fort Lewis, Washington, to
be flown to the Republic of South Vietnam. I know my heart hit the
floor, even though I knew it was coming, but to finally read it, it was
now real. Bob and I made plans. While on leave, Bob would come to
Jackson and stay with me for a while and I would go back with Bob to his
house and stay with him before we had to leave for Vietnam. While we
were still at Fort Benning, Bob told me that he talked with someone who
told him that I did not have to go to Vietnam because I was the sole
surviving son in my family. Bob said that I needed to go to the Chaplain's
office and talk with him. Bob was trying to help me get out of
Vietnam. Off to the Chaplain's office I went. He told me that it was
true, I did not have to go to Vietnam but I had to verify that I was the
sole surviving son in my family by calling my mother and having her get
4 certified letters from different sources to prove I was the surviving
son. I rushed back to Bob and told him what the Chaplin said. I was
feeling a little bad for Bob because he might have to go to Vietnam
without me. But, I watched the National News about the war, it was
serious stuff and people were getting killed everyday there. Bob
understood and said that if he had a chance like mine, he would not go
if he could get out of it. I made a phone call to my Mother that
evening. I explained that I received Orders for Vietnam but I didn't
have to go because I was the only male DeMusey left in our family to
carry on the DeMusey name. I told her about the 4 certified letters
that I needed and if she could, get the letters started right away. My
Mother went on to tell me that she thought that Vietnam would be a good
place for me to be and it would probably make "a man out of me". I told
her that my chances of being killed over there were great since I was
an Infantry man. She went on to tell me that she would not get the
letters for me. After I hung up I went back to the barracks and told
Bob not to worry about going to Vietnam alone, I would be right there by
his side. I went on to tell him about my conversation with my Mother.
On
August 28th, 1969, Bob and I boarded a plane to the San Francisco
airport. My oldest Sister met me at the airport and I was on my way
home. Bob’s brother John picked Bob up. The 30 day leave went fast.
Getting all my friends together was a chore because most of them were
going to College to beat the draft. Bob drove to my house in Jackson,
in his Corvette and stayed with me and met most of my friends. We had a
keg party in a field with a bonfire. Cars were parked around the fire
with their doors open with all of the radios on the same station. Bob
told me that this was really nice. While he was with me in Jackson, we
went to the local dance in Sutter Creek, CA, and had fun dancing. We
went to a few parties at my friends house and sat around talking. I said
good bye to my family and friends.. There were many tears shed, but I
tried to keep them inside. I didn't have any problems with my mother.
I knew she wanted the best for me, and there would be no easy way out
for me. As Bob and I pulled away from my house, I could see my two
little sisters, Barbara and Elaine, standing in the drive way, waving
good bye, and tears came to my eyes. I knew I wouldn't see them for a
year, if I was lucky.
On September 26th, 1969, Bob and I left my
house in Jackson and drove to Vallejo where he lived. I spent Friday
and Saturday night at his home. I remember that when we reached their
home there was another corvette parked there. I asked Bob, who's car is
that when he told me that his younger brother John also owned a
corvette. For two nights, Bob and I were on the go. We partied and
visited his friends. We came in late at night and slept late in the
morning, only to get up again, clean up and start all over. Bob
told me that he wanted to take me to San Francisco tomorrow and we come
go to Haight-Ashbury and go into the clubs. The next day, Bob and I got
up and just had a lazy morning. Bob received a phone call as I was
getting dressed for the day. Bob came and asked me if I remembered a
guy by the name of Dan who we both went through Basic Training with. I
told Bob that I couldn't remember him. Bob said that he was home on
leave too and that he was going to Germany and he wanted to go out with
us tonight and take in the clubs. It sounded good to me. Our plans
were to pick Dan up around 6:00 p.m. at his house and then head to
Haight-Ashbury.
Bob and I left his house around 5:40 p.m. to pick
up Dan. Dan's family had bought a new house in a brand new
sub-division somewhere in the bay area. As we drove in the new
sub-division, I could see that only 5 to 6 houses were occupied and
many, many more were being built. We finally arrive at Dan's house. It
was a two story house with what appeared to be a three car garage
attached. The garage appeared to be bigger that our house in Jackson.
As Bob got out of the car he said, I'll be right back, I'll get Dan. I
got out of Bob's corvette and stood along side of it to have a
cigarette. I could hear music coming from Dan's garage. The music was
good. It was a band practicing their music. I was starting to get into
the music. I tried to peek my head around to get a look into the
garage without being noticed. Shortly, Bob and Dan came out to the car.
I did recognize Dan as he said Hi! Bob said, you ready to go. I
said, we don't need to go anywhere, we can stay here and listen to the
band that was in the garage. I asked Dan what the name of the band was
because they were really, really good. Dan said, it was a band named
"Santana". He went on to say that they had just got back from back East
where they played at Woodstock and now they were touring the Bay Area
and needed a place to practice. Since Dan's sister was the girlfriend
of the drummer, they were allowed to practice in their garage. Dan
said, remember the name "Santana", they will be big some day. All three
of us got into the corvette and we left to go clubbing.
We
arrive in the Haight-Ashbury area and Bob found a place to park his car.
We hung out on the street and watched the people walking on the
street. I had never seen "hippies" before and this was all new for a
Jackson boy to witness. After Bob, Dan and I got a hamburger to eat, it
was time to go see if we could get into some of the clubs. We entered
the first club we came to and we were lucky enough to get served beer
from the bar. Music was playing and cigarette smoke filled the club. I
was amazed at the amount of people that were in this club. All three
of us found a table and sat down and drink our beer. Dan was talking to
Bob and he told him that "Big Brother and the Holding Company" was
playing in one of the clubs tonight. I had no idea of the band they
were talking about. I grew up listening to Motown music. We ventured
out of that bar and walked the street and were taking in the sights.
There was a lot to see, buildings, people and cable cars. We had gone
into several clubs and it was now around 11:00 p.m.. As we left one of
the clubs we were walking in the direction of Bob's car when Dan saw a
sign outside of a club that said "Big Brother playing tonight". As were
got closer to the front door of the club, I could hear a female voice
that sounded like she was singing blues. She had a screechy voice, very
unique. Dan told Bob that it was Janice Joplin. I had never heard of
Janice Joplin and I didn't think the music was that good. She was
singing, "Take another piece of my heart", as we could only listen from
outside since the club was packed. We stood outside the club until the
band took a break around 12:00 midnight. We then left and drove Dan
back home and dropped him off outside of his house as we all said good
bye. Bob and I left and drove to Bob's house and went to bed. What a
great night in the Bay Area.
Sunday morning, September 28th,
1969, Bob and I were driven to the SF Airport where we took a flight,
sitting side by side, to Fort Lewis, Washington, where it had all
started back in February. From Fort Lewis, we boarded a plane to
Anchorage, Alaska. We were only on the ground for short time before we
were in the air again. We flew for hours before we landed in Japan. We
were allowed off of the plane for few minute and Bob and I took
advantage of it. We stretched our legs and then we had to get back on
the plane and continued to fly. It was around 10:00 p.m., when we
landed in Da Nang, Vietnam. Our date of arrival to Vietnam was
September 29th, 1969. This meant that our date of departure would be
September 29th, 1970.
It was dark when we got off the plane. I
remembered that it was warn and humid, but nothing like Georgia. There
was a funny smell in the air. We were hurry onto a bus which drove us
to an incoming barracks. Bob and I took the same bunk, and like always,
I took the top and Bob was on the bottom. We slept through the night
and the next morning, after they fed us, we had to attend an in-coming
meeting where we signed all kinds of paper work. We were told that we
were to write home every week, even if we didn't have anything new to
tell the family or we would could possibly get into trouble. After
about an hour in this meeting, we were released. We next went and were
given new fatigues and jungle boots. We had to change clothes and wear
our new Army clothing. After lunch, Bob and I were relaxing from the
long flight, a Sergeant came in and took those of us that did not
receive our new Orders and put us to work filling sand bags to replace
some of the ones that were stacked up around the barracks. We asked the
Sergeant who was supervising us if there were many rocket attacks at
this Base and he went on to tell us that it was a weekly occurrence. He
said that if we were going to be here for any length of time, we would
see what he was talking about. Bob and I looked at each other and said,
Thank God, only 364 more days to go.
Bob and I were in Da Nang
for only 2 days when we received traveling Orders. We were going to be
transferred to South Vietnam and we were leaving the next morning.
After breakfast the next morning, Bob and I were driven to an Air Force
troop transport, 4 engine, air plane. When we first drove up to the
plane, it was just starting up. Smoke was coming out of all engines.
We looked at each other and I said, "so this is how we are going to
die". We were ordered onto the plane with our duffel bags. Once inside
we saw that all of the seats had been removed. We had to sit on the
floor. No seat belts, no seats, nothing. One of the crew members threw
us each a parachute and was told to sit on it. We could use it if we
were shot down, but he didn't know how many years ago the chute was
packed. Before we knew it the plane was in the air. It was loud, wind
was blowing all around us, dirt being blown all over us and the plane
shook like it was about to fall apart. We sat on the parachutes and
leaned our backs on our duffel bags. In about an hour and a half, we
were descending, getting ready to land. We were landing at Bien Hoa Air
Force Base in South Vietnam. An Army jeep was waiting to pick up Bob
and I. Were driven to the south end of the runway. I could see that
there were 5 big top tents set up near the runway. The driver of the
jeep told us that each tent had a sign up in front of it. The first
tent as A-D, the second tent had E-H and so on. He told us to go to the
tent that had the letter of our last name and our new Orders would be
there. Bob and I looked at each other and said, "Oh shit".
There
were about a hundred or so GI's out there just like us. Over a loud
speaker you could hear someone saying, "men, line up and get your
Orders. Once you receive your Orders, listen up for your name being
called, that person is here to pick you up to take you to your new
Unit." I told Bob, "I am going to get in line and get my Orders and as
soon as you get yours, meet me back here so I can find out what Unit you
get assigned to." Bob said, "okay man, I don't like this, but I will
meet you back here in a few." I made my way up to the front of the
line. I was asked my last name and was handed my new Order. I was
assigned to Blue Tigers, Delta Troop, 3rd of the 17th Air Cavalry. All
I could focus on was Air Cavalry. The first thing that came to my mind
was, maybe I will be a door gunner on a helicopter. I started to move
to the back of the pack to where Bob and I were to met. He was already
there. Bob said first, "where are you assigned?" I gave him a copy of
my Orders and told him that I think I was going to be in an Air Cavalry
Unit. I asked Bob, "where are you going?" He started to pull off a
copy of his Order and tell me who he was assigned to when a Sergeant was
yelling for Bob, “where are you?" Bob said, "I gotta go, I have your
Orders and I will keep in touch, take care." I could hear another
Sergeant yell, "DeMusey, William S., where are you?" With that, I went
to shake hands with Bob, but we ended up hugging, and together we turned
around and walked to our Sergeant's voices. My Sergeant was the
closest, so I came up and said, "DeMusey reporting for duty." I quickly
turned around to see where Bob was. I lost him in the sea of bodies
that were moving towards their new Sergeants. It was like I left a
relative. This was the first time that Bob and I were separated in the
Army. He was like my brother. We had experienced the same
experiences. We talked almost every night since February. Before I
could even think about it any more, reality was setting in. I was more
worried about Bob because I think he said that he was assigned to the
1st Cavalry. He would be straight infantry. I was assigned to the Air
Cavalry and that sounded like being involved with helicopters. The
Sergeant that was picking us up wasn't even assigned to the 3/17th Air
Cavalry. He job was to drive us to the helicopter waiting for us at the
end of the runway. There were 7 of us that were in the jeep, assigned
to Delta Troop. We loaded the waiting helicopter and soon lifted off
and we flew from one side of the Base to the other side where we
landed. After we checked in and were assigned to one of three platoons,
I quickly found out that Delta Troop was the only infantry unit
assigned to the 3/17th Air Cavalry.
I soon found out that,
yes, I was infantry, and the only thing helicopters had to do with us,
was to transport us into and out of from dangerous situations. I was
made a Sergeant's radio man. We were very busy and soon days turned
into months. On January 2, 1970, while on a mission, my newest close
friend in 3rd Platoon, Barney McCoy Smith, was killed along with our
Sergeant. Things were not good and I would wonder how Bob was doing?
Sometime in January, my Unit moved from Bien Hoa to Di An, South
Vietnam. We were on a rotating schedule. We would pull a 7 day mission
south of Saigon, move to Long Bien for 7 days, and then rotate back to
base camp (now Di An) for 7 days, and then start it all over again. One
of the times we rotated back to Di An, after we put up our gear and
finished showers, while in the 25 man tent that 15 of us lived in, I
heard a familiar voice. I could hear the voice say, "is there a Bill
DeMusey that lives here?" I looked up, Oh my God, it was Bob. I
yelled, "Bob, down here." It was like be reunited with a family member,
a brother. I had not seen Bob for the last 3 1/2 months. I went to
shake Bob's hand, but soon we were hugging. "Great seeing you Bob, you
on leave?" Bob went on the tell me that he was AWOL (absent without
leave. He went on to tell me that it was bad where he was at. They
made him the 60mm machine gunner. He was assigned to the 1st Infantry
Division. He said that he saw so much action that he just had to get
away and come and see me. I asked him how in the hell did he find me
since we moved about 45 miles northwest of where we were at Bien Hoa.
He said he hitch hiked down Highway 1 and got a ride with a GI driving a
big old truck to Bien Hoa. Once there, I went to were you guys were
located and found a truck driver who was picking up some of the last
stuff left behind in your guys move to here. He was getting ready to
leave to drive here to Di An to drop it off and offer me a ride. He
drove me all the was here. This was the first tent that I stopped by
and here I am. We talked all night. We went to the EM club and drank
beer and listen to music, just like old times. I told Bob that he
couldn't stay too long because I did not want him to get into any
trouble. Bob agreed and we partied into the early hours of the
morning. The next day, Bob and I went to the mess hall and after we
talked into the early afternoon. He decided that he needed to get back
so he didn't get into too much trouble, so around 5:00 p.m., after
dinner, we said our good byes and Bob hitched a ride from one our truck
drivers to Highway 1, where Bob said he would have no problem getting
back to his unit. That was the last time I saw Bob while in Vietnam.
On
September 29th, 1970, I boarded a "Freedom Bird" from Vietnam back to
the "World". When I was boarding the plane to home, I looked for Bob. I
got up several times before we took off and didn't see him. I first
thought, I hope he made it out alive. I was wounded three times and
received 1 Purple Heart. I just hoped that he was either on another
flight out today, or maybe he left the day before. God I hope he was
okay.
Once off the plane at San Francisco, I was trying to see if
Bob had been on the plane by taking my time walking from the plane to
the terminal. People were standing outside the chain linked fence with
their faces pressed up against the fence yelling, "Baby Killers,
Murders, Rapist" and other insults along with spit coming from all
directions. I soon gave up lagging behind looking for Bob because the
spit was coming to close. I thought, I just got back from putting my
life on the line for the last year and this is my welcome home.
I
did not see Bob while processing out at San Francisco. My sister
picked me up at the airport and drove me home to Jackson. I was having a
hard time adjusting to being home. I often wondered how Bob was
doing. I soon realized that I did not have his phone number, didn't
know where he lived other that Vallejo and I didn't even have a way to
drive there. My friends stopped coming around except for a few. Nobody
wanted to talk about the war, not even my Brother-In-Law. So, like
most Vietnam Veterans, we just kept it inside and went on about life. I
would believe that is what happened with Bob. In August 1971, I
married my wife. If it wasn't for her, I probably would of ended up in
prison or would have died at an early age. This August will be 44 years
the wife and I will be married.
The last time I saw Bob was
sometime in the winter of 1971. The wife and I were coming out of Mel's
Diner in Jackson after eating when a corvette came pulling into a
parking space where I was standing and almost hit me. I thought, what
the hell is a matter with this idiot. I heard, "Bill!" I looked inside
the car and it was Bob. He and a young lady were stopping into Mel's
for a cup of coffee to go, because they were on their way to Lake Tahoe
to go skiing for the weekend. We talked a few minutes while their
coffee was being prepared. We hugged and said that one day we would get
together. This was the last time I ever saw Bob. I ended up going
back into the Army in 1972 to 1974 and was stationed at Fort Carson,
Colorado. I heard that Bob worked for the VA somewhere in the bay area,
but don't know that for a fact. Bob had met my best buddy from High
School when he came and stayed with me before Vietnam. Somehow they
hooked up several times when Chris was going to Berkeley College. Chris
still tells the story of how Bob and he went out drinking and to the
car races in Stockton, California the night Chris turned 21, which was
May 25th of 1971. On the way to Bob's house after closing some bar,
Bob blew through a stop sign near his house and a Policeman saw him. Bob
decided to out run the cop and the chase was on. Chris said that Bob
turned off his headlights in the corvette and they skidded into Bob's
garage and closed the garage door and the cops never did catch them.
I
found out that Bob had two failed marriages in his short life. I know
for a fact that he suffered from PTSD. I miss him every time I think of
the Army or Viet Nam. I wish I could have been more involved in his
life.