A few days later, I received orders to report to Bravo Battery stationed in Song Be. I was happy with this assignment because I considered them a sister battery to Alpha, and knew since they faced similar enemy activity, my experience would be useful.
I need to digress a bit here to explain something. While waiting for my OCS class date at Ft. Sill, in my case an inordinate amount of time due to the Army being adamant against having a 19 year old in an OCS class, I served in various jobs on a temporary basis. The last, and most interesting and productive (from my point of view) was as an assistant to the post carpenter, an old Master Sergeant, who took a liking to me. We worked well together for a month or so before my class date started in early March, 1969. He took me out to lunch, with a three day pass in hand to reward me for diligence and hard work.
In conversation, I remembered that he questioned why I had any desire to be an officer “because the NCOs ran the Army”, and he thought I’d be a good one. “Officers just think they run things because the NCOs let them”, he said. He then gave me some of the most valuable advice I received while in the Army. “In the unlikely event I did manage to be commissioned (my chances were slim to none), I should remember if I ever got into trouble to ask the NCO I was most comfortable with how to fix the problem, and make sure he had whatever materials he thought necessary to do the job”. I knew now I was in that kind of trouble, enlisting the help and providing the materials would make me or break it for me.
I reported to my new Battery Commander, Capt. Buhnmann, duffel bag in hand. I liked him immediately. He was personable, and had a sense of humor. I was informed I would be responsible for two main problem areas in need of attention, Motor Pool, and Mess Hall. He understood that junior officers have no position in the battery doing this; however, I would hold a Forward Observer slot and be responsible for other tasks and duties as assigned. He indicated many of my problems in Alpha stemmed from me being too familiar with the enlisted men. He knew a personality transplant probably wouldn’t work, (I was impressed with his use of this metaphor, following the first heart transplant news by a year or so), but I should make an effort to associate with the other officers and senior NCOs.
I was advised to distance myself some from the enlisted guys. I was instructed to avoid contact with men in Alpha Battery. I objected to this order, explaining that I had some friends that I cared about in Alpha; we had been through a lot together. He explained the Battery Commander could bring charges for something called “interference of command”, if I even gave some innocuous advice in response to a complaint or something. He had been assured that charges would be sought in such an example. We came to an agreement that I wouldn’t seek contact but could respond as long as I was respectful of the Commander. He knew the order interfered with my right to free speech.
I was issued weapons: a .45 and M-16, shown the Officers’ Quarters bunker, and introduced to the two section chiefs I would be working with most closely. Up till now I had not considered what my presence would mean to the men I would be working with. Usually a junior officer would stay in the same unit during the full course of his service in Vietnam, with understandable exceptions, such as Lt George Montgomery serving as the Battalion Aerial Observer. The Army wanted to round out your skills as much as possible even if you exhibited exceptional ability at one thing. I looked at my tasks in a similar fashion figuring I was being “rounded out”. Others thought differently. The rule of unintended consequences especially applies in a war zone. Being mindful that making a good first impression would be helpful, I, however, was stuck with being me.
