Death and INJURY
Death and injury were then and are yet no
strangers to the Army and/or at Fort Bragg.
Many men, young and old succumbed to
accidents at the sprawling Army post.During his tour of duty at this humongous North
Carolina base Jack saw his share of accidents and deaths.
Operation Flashburn was simulated
atomic warfare. Hundreds of thousands of men were involved in these war
"games," many died! The following happened at Fort Polk.
As the Patton tank rolled along the
bayou back roads, the tracks tearing and chewing taking mailboxes, and gravel along with
it. The drone of the monstrous Chrysler engine had lulled Jack to sleep.
Pablo Holquin, the driver sat in the
bowels of the steel coffin. Sgt. Johnny Johnson, the tank's leader in Lieutenant
Laverty's absence stood tall in the turret. With one track on the road and one off
to allow traffic to pass in the opposite direction, the crew passed many Army vehicles.
Jack awoke when the tank lurched to a screeching halt. Sgt. Johnson told Jack that a
jeep had hit them. He turned the turret so that Pablo could emerge more rapidly from
his driving position. Jack sleepily retrieved the CO2 extinguisher.
In the nearby woods the crew found
disastrous results. The cool night air had not been able to prevent the hypnotic
affect of the combination of overwork and bright oncoming lights. The jeep's
driver had run into the sprocket and the mechanism rejected and ejected. The ¼ ton
truck didn't stand a chance against the 60 ton behemoth. The tankers found the results of
the mismatch in the brush.
One soldier dazed and on fire, was
tackled, knocked down and wrapped in a blanket by Jack. Johnson used the
extinguisher on one before realizing that the Carbon Dioxide could cause frostbite, didn't
matter though, the chap was already dead. Of the four riding the jeep, one wandered
totally disoriented to the road and was almost hit by passing vehicles as he blindly
sought aid. The crew of the tank, badly far behind, and in jeopardy of losing radio
contact with their unit had to leave the scene. They never knew the final result.
Another night during the same set of
maneuvers, tragedy struck again. The scenario was the same only the time was
different. Dark country roads, too narrow, carrying too much traffic. The
entire tank column, on the move all day, was en route to a temporary resting place.
Tonight, senseless deaths would occur. It was probably midnight in a place where
time really didn't matter. Hoagy the Chicano, was in his cocoon driving with the
best seat in the house. Johnny Johnson, tank commander pro tempera, was in the
turret half asleep. Instead of resting with his head against the foam rubber covered sight
pad, Jack was also in the turret hatch.
Simultaneously as the Caterpillar
nesting on a flatbed trailer passed in the opposite lane Holguin called into the intercom
about the duffel bag that had fallen from the truck in front of them. Already
hopelessly behind and in a futile attempt to catch their main column, they agreed to
retrieve the fallen bag and return it to it's owner. Tank #46 pulled further off
the road into the darkness. Sgt. Johnson summoned the rest of the crew to help with
the duffle bag.
They all discovered, much to their
dismay the "duffle bag" was a GI. He had been riding in the truck.
Complaining when they rolled him over on his side, he screamed in agony, "not on my
side, please."
Dressed against the frigid night and the drive in the back of the "deuce," the
soldier wore a field jacket zipped and buttoned. The tankers had to cut away his
field jacket. This was the first time Jack had seen a human's lungs, liver and other
internal organs. The boy was cut from his navel to his spine.
By now more vehicles had arrived on
the scene. An MP directing traffic was flipped over the little Studebaker when the
driver misread the MP's hand motions. The MP's captain really fumed at the off duty
GI in the low slung car. He and the little blonde passenger probably lived on the
post and weren't involved in the maneuvers. The tall impressive MP suffered two
broken legs.
Much later when Jack was telling this story to fellow postal workers, a fellow added the
finish to the story. The guy, Krieger a trooper from the 325th AIR said the
"duffle bag" survived. However, the others on that side of the truck all
had been killed. Sliced completely through by the blade of the Caterpillar, they
never knew what struck them.
The offending driver never stopped unaware what had transpired .
Two more little quirks that
fortunately didn't result in death:
Jack sympathized with the grunts as they abandoned all caution and mounted the steel
monsters. They had all been involved in a joint skirmish. The command to mount
up had infantrymen clinging to every nook and cranny they could find. Anything to avoid
that trip walking back.
The tank had an automatic transmission. At the bottom of the sequence of P,L,1,2,N
was R. The best way to get to the Reverse was to slap the gear sick down. Hoagy
squeezed and the nose of the tank shot down faster and better than brakes ever could.
M-1's, Light machine guns, BAR's and worst of all, men, went flying.
Bloodied, but determined to a man not to miss a ride, they picked up their weapons and
remounted, wondering quietly what the hell had happened. Jack, in his turret spot
nearly bite through his lip to keep from laughing.
Another time Exec.Officer 1st.Lt.Hart even after being forewarned of the danger of
mounting from the rear, had his leg get caught and mangled between the fender and
sprocket.
The beat goes on!
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