"Retired" due to medical conditions. -Heart Bypass (Quintuple) -Hepatitis C (from blood transfusions in the 1970s) -Diabetes (Type II). -Kidney failure w/ MRSA complications. -Operation to remove infection at sternum above old Heart Bypass site (still in recuperation early 2014).
Other Comments:
Self taught artist (multiple media); Self taught computer skills (I liked old "Windows 3.x" and DOS); Multi-lingual (a little of this and that); Life Member of the National Rifle Association. Still like to punch paper when I can afford the Range costs. (The proud owner of a Match Grade M1A, with glass bedded stock and also an M1 Garand.)
Best Friends Floyd G. Book (Gary, Indiana) fiesty small guy who was always in trouble (joined the Corps as alternative to jail). Last I heard he was an E4 squadleader (after I left F-2/5). Hope he made it back home.
Best Moment Getting transferred from my old squad (Cpl. Pfenning) to the Platoon CP as a radio-man/messenger just before we shipped out from Camp Schwab, Okinawa for Chu Lai, RVN.
Worst Moment Getting assigned to KP detail over the Christmas holidays. My first Christmas in the Corps was spent in the spudlocker of the messhall at Camp Margarita. It got to the point I hated pototoes, and could taste the preservative I was told to put in the tubs ready for use. I cursed my squadleader, who intentionally put me on this detail, while everyone else went home to their families on leave before we shipped out,...including him.
Chain of Command Platoon Commanders: Lt. Madden
Platoon Guide: Don't recall right now
Squadleader: (Stateside and Okinawa) Cpl Floyd Pfenning (antagonistic and unfair)
Other Memories We landed in RVN on 12 April, 1966. It was a "wetnet" landing, not docked to a pier. Lots of fun, going down the nets into Poppa boats, then going in circles forever, before running for the beach. I lost my breakfast over the side of the assault craft. By the time we started for the beach, we were ready to get the hell off those floating corks which bobbed all over creation. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight out to realize WE were the 'First Wave'. We had been told we were going into a "hot beach", and I kept waiting for enemy fire of some sort, especially after leaving the "line of departure" 1000 meters from the beach, where we had to duck below the gunwales of the boats. This is a story unto itself, and there isn't room here to tell it right.
