Hamfist Over the Trail by G E Nolly Read Free Book Online Page A

the big adjustments was getting used to the constant, unrelenting sound of artillery fire. Apparently, Phan Rang Air Base sat fairly close to an artillery base, and Phan Rang was in the line of fire of most of the artillery rounds. Every few minutes we'd hear a loud bang, and then what sounded like a jet plane flying low over our heads. A few seconds later we'd hear the explosion, perhaps 20 miles away. The old-timers on the base said we'd get used to it after a while.
    “It's just like the way New Yorkers get used to the sound of the elevated trains that go by their apartments,” remarked an IP.
    During the brief time I was at Phan Rang, I never did get used to it.
    And I was still way too new to get used to hearing about someone getting shot down.
    On about our fourth day at Phan Rang, I was scheduled for a late afternoon flight, but when I showed up at Operations, the flight had been cancelled.
    The Operations Officer, Major Anderson, pulled me aside. “You were scheduled to fly with Captain Jackson in aircraft 663, but he didn't come back from his flight this morning, so we don't have an airplane or IP for you today. We'll get you rescheduled tomorrow.”
    “What about Captain Jackson? Who was he flying with? Do we know where they went down?” I had a million questions, and I was more than a little upset with how blasé he was.
    “We have several birds in the area looking for any signs of where they might have gone down, but it's pretty hard to spot anything in triple-canopy jungle. We never got a distress call, and there are no beepers. They just didn't come back, and we checked with nearby bases, and they didn't recover at any of the nearby fields.” He rifled through a sheaf of papers, then said, “His student was a Lieutenant Mitchell. Friend of yours?”
    It hit me like a ton of bricks. Mitch was down!

17
    December 29, 1968
    I felt really sick about Mitch going down. What really made me feel awful was that I had just never even gotten to know him. Here we'd been room-mates for over a month, and I didn't even know anything about him. He was just some stranger who showed up in my life and just as quickly disappeared, and I had acted like he didn't even exist. What the hell was the matter with me?
    I decided then and there that I would try to really get to know the guys I hung around with. Not necessarily cherish them, but appreciate their individuality. Each was unique, and I wanted to discover that uniqueness. Some were still going to be assholes, but they would be assholes with unique qualities.
    I actually got a chance to know Mitch a bit more, in a roundabout way.
    The day after Mitch went down, Major Anderson called me back into his office.
    “I've been told you were Mitch's room-mate.”
    “Well, sir, I was,” I replied. “Back at Hurlburt we shared a VOQ apartment.”
    “Okay, then. You'll be his Summary Courts Officer.”
    “Uh, sir,” I stammered, “what's a Summary Courts Officer?”
    “You'll be cleaning up Lieutenant Mitchell's personal affairs. You'll make contact with his next-of-kin...”
    I froze. “You mean I have to tell his next-of-kin?” I asked incredulously.
    “No, no. The Chaplain's office at the base closest to his home of record will do that. Your job is to sort through his mail, see who he's been corresponding with, advise them that you'll be handling his personal affairs. If he owes any money, you'll have access to his bank account to make any payments.”
    “I'll have access to his bank account ?”
    “As soon as the Staff Judge Advocate signs the SCO orders. Also, you'll need to ship all of his belongings back to his next-of-kin. I don't see a wife listed here. Did he have a girlfriend?”
    “Well, sir, I didn't really know him all that well. We pretty much kept to ourselves at Hurlburt.” I could feel Major Anderson's eyes drilling into me.
    “You know, Lieutenant, you're an FNG, so I'll spell things out for you.” As soon as he said “FNG” he saw the puzzled