They all want to be VN veterans

[b3196]

Tom
Sorry for the loss.. Today is gonna be a tough one
Bob K

[exlrrp]

Originally posted by catman Razz...where the hell you been? I know your leave was not scheduled for that long! Good to see you on the boards!

Trav

Razz
What Trav said!!
I posted the last time I ran across someone like this in the BRFD--he said he had been through ans American jump school in VN and then started making $100/month jump pay with the 101st. (this was after they went Airmobile). On questioning further, he backed off to being only "attached". Well I was " attached" to the 101st also and they only paid me $55/ month jump pay. well I didn't attack him, my style is be all niceynice to mislead and distract attention and then ambush him later--no warnings, no 2d chances, finish the job and then walk away whistling an innocent little tune. This is why I was such a good lrrp.
Stay good
James

[1CAVCCO15MED]

Sorry to hear about your cat, Tom. Grunt is always ready to give you a good entertaining fight. He has a sidekick named Sam who can lick anybody. Tell Deb we are both sorry.

[rotorwash]

The following is excerpted from Kregg P. Jorgenson's fascinating book, "Very Crazy, G.I."

"You a vet?"
"'Nam," he replied. I nodded.
He was overweight and balding and wore what hair remained in a ponytail beneath a battered green beret.
"Special Forces, huh?" I said. This time he nodded.
"You with the Group or SOG?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Green berets," he said. I sighed.
He was dressed in jeans, frayed jungle boots, a T-shirt that read HONK IF YOU'RE HORNY, and a jungle fatigue shirt with a variety of patches sewn on the sleeves. There were two colorful rows of combat ribbons that said he had seen combat but that he didn't know which order it came in. That was his first mistake. The red-white-and blue-striped Silver Star award was placed after an Air Medal, below a Purple Heart, and next to a Good Conduct Medal. His Silver Star also had a V device indicating it was for valor, which was another mistake, because the Silver Star is awarded for gallantry, which in the military scope of things ranks a step above valor. It is not awarded a V device.
A blue and white Combat Infantryman's Badge was pinned just above the ribbons with a flat silver oblong badge. The flat badge had a triangle in its center, and I didn't recognize it at first. Then I smiled seconds later, recognizing that I had seen it on the uniform of the officers who manned the bridge on the television series, Star Trek, either generation.
The combat patch on his right sleeve was an olive drab, subdued MAC-V insignia, while a Special Forces arrowhead patch was sewn on his left sleeve. On one shirt jacket pocket was a death's-head skull; an ace of spades was sewn on the opposite pocket. A number of Vietnam War-related pins were spread across the pocket flaps and lapels like shrapnel from an exploding surplus store, but it was his green beret that caught most of my attention.
The weathered beret had a Special Forces insignia, a French paracommando crest, and the flat black rank pin of a Marine lance corporal. The crests, patches, other insignia, and beret were an unusual mix of services, units and time warps.
"I got a good story for you," he said while I nodded. I don't know if it has been declassified yet," he said, and then shrugged, adding in conspiritorial tones, "Who knows? It probably never will be."
"So, who did you serve with?" I asked, beginning the process by working through the basics.
"Special Forces," he said, "Black Ops." I nodded again taking out my notebook and jotting that down.
"Not SOG, huh?" He offered a confused look in return. Since Hollywood hadn't discovered SOG yet, the public knew little about it.
I scanned the rest of the man's makeshift uniform again. It took a few seconds to realize he wasn't wearing jump wings; the standard U.S. Army parachutist badge. This was like a nun without her habit, a sheriff without a badge, or, say, Vegas without an Elvis impersonator.
"So where did you serve?" I asked, giving my best 60 Minutes Mike Wallace stare. It was a shame I didn't have a loud stopwatch.
"Where?" he echoed.
I nodded. "Yeah. Which corps area? When were you in country?"
"All over," he said, cryptically evading the question. "I did a few tours." Then he came back at me with more immediate concerns. "So how much can you pay for the story?" he asked.
I smiled. "Complimentary copies, a few free magazines if it's published."
"That isn't very much," he said.
"No kidding," I said. Sometimes I wonder if I should have taken up plumbing.
Mulling it over, the Special Forces Star Trek veteran reluctantly decided it still might be worth his time. "I just want people to know the real story. That's all," he said. "I want to get it off my chest."
"Get what off your chest?" I asked. He was quiet for a long moment.
"I killed Ho Chi Ming," he said finally.
"Who?" I asked, not quite believing what I thought I had heard.
"The Vietnamese leader?"
"You mean Ho Chi Minh?" I asked.
He just nodded. "Yeah, thats what I said."
"And you killed him?"
The storyteller nodded. "Yeah, on a secret mission. Black Ops. We were a special hit team doing a job for the CIA. There were only three of us. The other two are dead now. I'm the only one left."
I studied his face as he told his tale, thinking he had to be ten years younger than I, which meant that at the time of Ho Chi Minh's death in 1969, the storyteller would have been all of fourteen.
"I thought Ho Chi Minh died of a heart atack." I said, knowing it was a reasonable enough statement since it was in most history books and encyclopedias. I've always done well with the obvious.
"That's what they wanted everyone to believe!"
Some days aren't as interesting as others, but this one ws beginning to show promise. "So, how did you do it?" I asked.
"Huh?"
"How did you and your two teammates do it?"
The storyteller looked around to see if anyone ws listening, and when he was certain there was more interest than just me, he increased his volume. He went into a ridiculous story about it being a suicide mission tht the CIA wrote off. How they were parachuted over the jungle base where Ho was guarded by a couple hundred special Russian soldiers, and how the three snuck up on the North Vietnamese leader like they had been trained.
"Just you and two other Americans?"
"UH-huh. And while they kept the guards busy, I snuck in and blew him away, man."
"Ho Chi Ming?" I asked again, just to be certain I had heard him correctly. "And you reported back where?"
"What?"
"Not what. Where? As in, what base? Nha Trang? Da Nang? Star Fleet Command? Where?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I'd like to look at a copy of your DD214 if you have one on you," I replied.
"It's been sanitized," he said.
"Sanitized?"
"Erased to cover it up. There's no record of the mission anywhere, man," he said, more than a little annoyed by my line of questioning. "I told you, it was Black Ops. Top Secret! It isn't in my military records."
"Okay, then how about telling me which Special Forces group you were with? And when you served with it? And maybe a few names, like your commanding officer, sergeant major, or team sergeant or anyone else who I can check with to verify any of your story." Special Ops types are a close community, and like Mr. Disney said, it's a small world after all.
"F**k it! I don't need this s**t!" the visitor said, irritated by my asking for some sources.
"Neither do the rest of us Nam vets, sport, the real Vietnam veterans. So right now, I'd settle for your driver's license to check your birth date to make sure that the Special Forces or the CIA didn't recruit you out of junior high school for your remarkably daring deed."
"You saying I'm lying?"
I grinned, "Yeah, and badly, too." I added. "So how do you spell your name anyway, because I want to make sure I get this story right. It's a good one."
"F**k you!" he said, walking away.
"Is that with one F or two?" I said calling after him, only he kept on walking. God I hate those French names.

RW

[Packo]

Wash,

What a friggin' hoot! Thanks for making this day one I will chuckle about for a long time! When ever I hear that they served "all over" my antennae are up. Great story but sadly, I believe ever word of it. When I worked in the Vet Center,(don't ask me which one, it's classified and I worked in Vet Centers all over) actually in NC by the way, Greensboro, these guys would actually come in there spouting the same kind of shit. Unbelievable gall!

Take care!

Pack

[Advisor]

ROFLMAOWPMP!!!!!!!!!!1

[exlrrp]

Originally posted by rotorwash
...A good story....
RW

RW
I ran across someone else telling stories very recently, it was in a hazardous materials class given by the fire marshal of Albany, OR which I was taking.
He got into his military career which included, according to him, jumping (HALO, from 24K ft) into Laos 6 times to rescue downed Navy pilots. Oh, did I say at night?
I asked him was all the rescue helicopters broken down in the Navy when that happened?? He didn't answer, nor did he answer as to how they got the downed pilots out when and if he ever found them (pre GPS I might add)
Somehow I always run across these guys when theyre in some position of authority over me, like teacher so I can't always speak my mind but when I can, I do.
I hope the rest of the class wasn't so much bullsht

Waiddaminit--I just remebere3d another. My son and I were goig somewhere, he was driving and we had to stop at a freeeway entrance for a red light. There was one of "Our Heroes" wiht a sign--"Vietnam Vet, will....) I actually pulled out a buck and asked him what unit he was in?
The 82d
Yeah but what unit in the 82d??(self was in C/1st/504th)
B company
B COMPANY??
by the time the light turned green I was cussing him out. I told him if he was there when I came back I was going to kick his as for being a fcking liar and I never saw him again.
Stay good,
james

PS: I hardly ever run across these characters because I stay out of bars

[exlrrp]

Originally posted by 39mto39g Gen Wesmoreland , (I was told) gave the 1/35 inf a rope to wear on there left sholder I wore one just like all the guys that went home the same time I did. The rope is very distinct. Its red,Green and brown, anyway, I was in this VFW one time and this guy comes in with his dress uniform on, He had an infantry rope on (light blue) and the rope I was told Westmoreland issued us. He had his trousers bloused and a 25th patch on his right shoulder. I asked him if he was with the 1/35 and he said no he was in the 1st cav? I then anounced to the bar that this guys was full of shit and proceeded to tell that he was not airborne but had his trousers bloused and he had a 25th patch on his right shoulder but he says he was in the Cav and the rope, well we didn't even go there. He left the bar.

I will never understand why guys do that.

Ron

Ron, was this diferent from the French Fourragere? We had that in the 82d but it wasn't awarded in VN, it was awarded way back in WWi.
the FF was brown red & green and had two brass ends on, it we called them Secret decoders for assholes
Stay good
James

[splummer]

Do you remember the lrrp I knew at work that I emailed you about a long time ago? [He was a marine to begin with but they didn't need him so he got sent to the Army. He developed a new tatic with claymores for the lrrps. Also, He currently was a sargent Major in the reserves. [An inteligence unit.] He told other people, not me about being a seal.

[Advisor]

Apropos of nothing...I'd rather not be a VN Vet..any one of these freaken wannabe's could have had my place on the plane. But, what the heck..I is what I is.