We were now talking as two soldiers both having concerns for the same unit. He next told me this would not show up as a gig on the Captain's record since he was not there long enough. I asked when he would have another opportunity to get a command. He was speechless for a bit, and it occurred to me that he thought I may have had something to do with the low morale in Alpha. I was horrified at the thought and blurted out “you didn’t think reassigning me would help morale in Alpha, did you?” He said flatly, "no”. Then realizing the implications of my question, he started laughing, “You did quite enough to warrant reassignment on your own”. Still laughing, he got up shaking his head and walked away, his mood had changed.
I found out from my friend at the Pentagon what took place there at Alpha Battery; albeit over a year later. In fact, there was suspicion that I had ignored orders and had fomented discontent. The investigator had this as one of the things he was looking for while interviewing the men in Alpha. As relayed to me, the results showed my reassignment had been a factor in the morale problem. All the NCOs and fully half the enlisted mentioned my absence as contributing to low morale. They had not seen anything like it.
On 10 August, 1970, they pulled my old OERs and re-read them with this new information, and more in mind. Remember, I was supposed to be the biggest ahole in the Army. This was the cause for much jocularity as they were noting how it differed from the investigator’s report. Becoming more serious and agitated when they realized that the respect noted in the report had been born from shared combat, they were completely unaware of this aspect of my service. My date of commission was 11 August, 1969 meaning my class promotion date would be tomorrow. I was not on the list.
As luck would have it, the Secretary of Defense, Melvin Laird, would be in his office the next day. The Section Chief of the Artillery Officers Branch took the evidence to the Secretary and explained much like the guys in Bravo had noted. The Army had made a mistake, but it was correctable. He explained that if the Secretary was serving as Secretary of State, I may not make a good officer, but as a junior officer in heavy artillery in the middle of a war, I was serving my country well. Secretary Laird personally signed my promotion papers and issued other guidance concerning me.
Major Merritt showed up at the battery a few days later, maybe the 13th or 14th. He presented me with a silver bar, apologizing he couldn’t find a black one. I was caught completely off guard. I had not expected a promotion, wasn’t keeping track of the days, or date. It really wasn’t a big thing to me. The Major told me he was happy to see my promotion, thought it was good for the Army too, and told me to keep up the good work. I think this was the last time I saw this fine officer. I don’t think I ever expressed to him the help his good counsel and understanding had been to me.
The U.S. Army, as the major component of the most successful military in history, is particularly adept at determining competence. There are systems in place and constantly in use for this purpose only. The civilian bureaucracy studies training and testing and systems management to the nth degree, then compares the new data with old historical data looking for what works best in whatever situation they are dealing with.
In early September, I went back into the FDC serving as the FDO (Fire Direction Officer) on a temporary basis in place of the real FDO while he was on R&R. We were evaluated by some test team and received an “Outstanding” result. I’m happy to have served well as a replacement. When he returned, I went back to my job, basically training to take the Assistant Executive Officer’s slot, and helping supply efforts. This didn’t take long to change.
