Fort Dix Basic Training 1969

Recently on Turner Classic Movies, I viewed “The Girl He Left Behind”, with Tab Hunter. This was about as close to the real thing, even with the comedy, I experienced, as Hollywood could put on the screen. “Take The High Ground” with Richard Widmark and Karl Malden, although set in a time period of another era, was also a good portrayal of Basic Training. I viewed these two movies, before enlisting.

Always figured, my lot would be with the military after high school, Vietnam or not! In 1969 being drafted could mean: you, you, and you, you are now, in The Marines! Really wasn’t Marine Corp material, so I enlisted three year RA in The Tank Corp. (11E)

Basic Training, October of 1969, at Fort Dix, New Jersey, about mid way through the training cycle, one Saturday morning. Our rifles where stacked and our web gear was in an orderly manor, placed on the ground in some training area. Falling in for formation, putting on the web gear and unstacking our rifles, for a march back to the barracks, I noticed, my bayonet was missing. It seems, I didn’t have a nickels worth of time to say, “Corporal, my bayonet is missing!” So I just went marching off, and kept to myself. ”Oh, Brother, I did it this time, I’m dead!”

etting back to the barracks to turn in weapons, both rifle and bayonet to the arms room. There was this arms room clerk, some PFC E-3 Type, who thought he was a want to be Drill Sergeant. This guy, was always heaping abuse or hazing the Trainees, and he seemed to target yours truly, quite a bit.

I gave him my rifle and then walked over to the PFC, who started to yell at me. While he was in full blown hazing mode, screaming in my face, I waved the scabbard in front of his face, then dropped it in the box and left the arms room.

Walking back to the barracks, I was in total shock, that I got away with it and lingered outside for a while. Several minuets later, inside the barracks, and going up the stairs to the third floor, the guys where complaining over the intercom. It was announced before I walked in that there will be a shake down, stand by your lockers, and no week end passes, because a bayonet is missing! With over hearing the moaning and groaning, I felt guilty and immediately went to the barracks orderly room.

There was Drill Sergeant First Class Brown McLeod, a big fatherly type, who took no crap, but a real on the square type, Veteran of Korea and Vietnam. He looked at me and I said, “It was my bayonet.”

McLeod asked me, "Where did I loose it at?" Which I answered promptly “in the field.” Then he asked why didn’t I bring it to the attention of (PFC E-3 Type)or the Arms Room Clerk? I told him, “I did, but he was to busy yelling at me and that he didn’t see me pass the empty scabbard, in front of his face!”

In a split second, Drill Sergeant McLeod said, “Good, call off the shake down and forget about it son.” I think I also heard him murmur, “Why, that SOB!” Perhaps no one had the right to haze his trainees, but him and his fellow Drill Sergeants. Obviously, he did like the PFC Arms Room Clerk. The next time I saw The PFC, he was a Private E-2, kind of quiet and inspecting each bayonet and scabbard, before putting it in the box.

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