"A.I.T. at Ft. Lewis, Washington in 1970"

    Well people, here I am launching off again back far into the 1970's again, and I would like to tell the rest of the story about this episode that for me was an experience of a life time. After all this was not an entertainment sports event on T.V.. And I am grateful for it because when I meet combat veterans, I can say that we are Kindred spirits for real because unlike President Trump who calls us Losers, we didn't Dodge the real Battle fields. And unlike President George W. Bush who tried to cut Veterans Benefits we made no medical pretense in fear of avoiding War! So after graduating Basic training several of the guys in my platoon received Orders to report to the North Ft. Lewis Base and the others were shipped to their Training Bases else where in the U. S.. The time of year was July 31st, 1970. I remember that on the day when everyone got their Orders to their destinations, everyone was dreading being assigned to the Infantry because of the War in Vietnam. And after I read my Orders I sighed deeply because it assigned me to the Infantry. However, all of us in our Platoon were sad somewhat because now we most likely would never see each other again. Nonetheless, I was happy because some of my Platoon comrades were heading with me to the same Unit at the Old World War Two barracks which required no going home for a few days at all. The reception at A. I. T. by the Drill sergeants was still harsh but nothing like at Basic. The weather was changing and Fall season was blooming once more with its signs of colorful foliage on many trees and shrubs. And it was giving us a heads up that leaves were gonna drop off from the trees to the ground and die soon. But I knew that The Winter Hawk would not catch me no where near here in the next nine weeks. And another thing that I noticed at these old barracks was that the whole atmosphere; I mean the spirit, was more dreadful and gloomy than the newer barracks at South Ft. Lewis. It was a completely different personality at this place. Oh, but before I move on please let me inject a critical side note right here about a fatal viral epidemic that was plaguing all of us at Fort Lewis when I arrived in May 28th, 1970. The disease was called Spinal Meningitis and it was a killer. It was already there on base when I got there. And that was another dreadful fear added to our other pressing existing problems here. So you see, we had assassins that were real, and invisible ones that shape shifted, after us. I'm sorry about that but I forgot to mention that at the beginning. This bit of information is critical because it demonstrates how some things might originate at certain Military Bases. And we had no rich daddy's to bail us out of danger either except my "God." And so after arriving we were instructed on what to expect here. I remember that our Senior Drill Sergeant who really was a first sergeant in rank was a Puerto Rican. He was somewhat short in height and not as lean and muscular. Man, his heavy accent made it difficult for many of us to understand his commands. And then my Platoon Drill Sergeant was a Filipino and he had an accent to his voice too that was hard to understand the first week with them there. But he did have a Black young drill sergeant as his assistant and he made it easier for us to get the picture that they wanted to project to us more clearly. I have to say that our training here was harder and most of it had to do with gorilla warfare. And the force marches late at night through those thick woods were something to remember because it was an incredibly and haunting experience. It was out in those woods at night that was more difficult because the trainers would pop explosives nearby as we patrolled and they would shout with a dire tone to their commanding voice and yelled to us to hit the ground fast. We never did this part of training in Basic. Anyway, as we dove hard into the ground, and unbeknown to many of us trainees there, we would dive into giant ant mounds two or three feet high by at least three feet wide. I remember that I would be covered in these monsters seconds after breaking up those mounds. I would get up fast and dust those things off of me and the Drill sergeant would yell at me and say, "Get your sorry ass back on the ground!" But, there were mounds out there by the thousands and we dreaded diving in the ground at dark because of these giant ants. That was something that I can't forget about Ft. Lewis Washington State either. And I remember that we would train hard all day with only three hours of sleep and then to be taken out on these long forced marches. If it wasn't the ants, it was just that we were overly exhausted and while we walked fast, we were falling asleep as we hiked through the woods. It felt like having diabetes, like when one can't keep their eyes open when awake and falls into a coma. I saw with my own eyes, young and very strong men fall hard to the ground as we walked at a fast pace, flat on the ground. The drill sergeants would walk up to them and lean close to their ear and shout at them, "Get up you F...... maggot!" And the guys would struggle just to stand because their legs were like helpless spaghetti. It was here when we the trainees took it upon ourselves and began to pick these guys up and help them by holding them to us as we kept walking with them holding them and talking to them encouraging words, like..., "Don't give up, keep walking forward, you can make it!," until the march came to a stop. And even on our long runs we did the same for those guys falling behind. The drill sergeants admired this and did not try to dissuade us from doing this because we took it upon ourselves to sacrifice for these guys. And just like at Basic, when the fifth week was completed we were allowed to visit the P.X. across the street from us and a club for enlisted personnel. And we were allowed to drink beer on this fifth week end if we didn't have Guard Duty or C.Q. Duty. And as I said several times before, it never failed as far as I was concerned to see life in its rawest truth as I bumped into somethings not meant to be seen by us. I recall one week night that I had to pull C. Q. duty and it happened that I had to work with our Senior Drill Sergeant because he was the one in charge for the C.Q. duty for the Company for this night. Everything was fine as I made my rounds early that night. And I reported in with the Senior drill sergeant every hour on the hour until sometime at midnight he calls me to sit with him next to his desk. So being the disciplinarian that we were I sat in a chair opposite him. Then he began to talk to me in Puerto Rican and began to tell me his history in the Army and that he was about to retire finally. Then he reach in a drawer in his desk and pulled out a quart of Puerto Rican Rum and pulled out a small cup and pour me a cup full and then he began to take swigs at the bottle and took in a big gulp. Then he pulls out a small radio and begins to listen to either Puerto Rican or Cuban music and then yells at me to drink my drink. But I tell him that I am not a whiskey drinker and he says one more time to drink it because he has more. And now he stops talking and is looking out a window and lost in his mind dancing somewhere with his wife as he listens to the music. And I kept seeping on my drink carefully because I didn't want to pass out. And as he continues to stare out the window for a couple of hours I make my rounds high as a wind blown kite. Sometime around three A. M. he tells me that he is going to sleep and not to wake him up unless it is an emergency. When I looked at his bottle it was empty and I just couldn't believe this. And I was left in charge of the whole company. Man, it was good that no big shot came along then because both of us would have been in trouble then. But I found out this night that my Senior Drill Sergeant was human after all. And all these guys were sacrificing way much more for their Country than many others do out there. The next morning both of us were chirpy and ready to go one more round. And about the eight week a White couple from Everett invited me and a light skin Mexican American friend from Phoenix, Arizona to spend a week end with them and their two very young kids. They were from a Catholic Church there who picked us two from a Church list on Base who had given them names of guys going to Vietnam soon. They took us to their Church on a Sunday morning and afterwards he took us fishing at a nearby harbor there. It seemed that all the big fish there were infested with some kind of sea worms and he kept throwing them back in the water. And since that prospect didn't go well, we went back early that evening and they fed us supper and my friend and I ate rue bard pie for the very first time. It was not what I was used to but I ate it. Then they drove us back to base and unloaded us at this church site where other families were dropping off other trainees who had been picked by other families too. Then the Priest gathered families and trainees together and said a prayer of blessing for all of us right there in a big opened parking lot in front of that church. Then I went to say good bye to the family that I was with and they began to cry for me and hug me. Then my friend and I headed back to our barrack and waited for graduation day. And when that day came  just about all of us in my Company received Orders to report to the 90th Replacement at Long-Binh- Ben-Hoa Vietnam. But first we were given a few days leave and we went home for that time. There I spent time with my family and my girl friend Irma Reyes and made more plans for the future. She wanted to get married then but I said that I had to wait until I came back to do that. I assigned my brother Sam to be my Beneficiary in case I got killed over yonder in Vietnam. And sometime in October I reported to a base in Oakland, California and was quarantined for a few days and then after that we were air transported as a group by Pan-Am Airlines on October 30th to South Vietnam. We made two pit stops on the way there. The first was at Anchorage, Alaska late at night in a full fledged blizzard. We were told that a plane full of G. I. 's going there a couple of weeks before had crashed upon landing there.  After 13 hours waiting in Anchorage we took off and landed at Tokyo, Japan late night. From there we took off again an arrived at morning on October 31st, 1970 at Binh-Hoa airport in South Vietnam. Well, I'll close for now and say again, Let's sleep on that. Thanks again. I'll taxi again soon and land who knows where when I see you again.                                                                                                                                                                                                                             Respectfully,                                                                                                                                            Ruben N. Gutierrez