I know there were many in the services and I want to be the first to tell one of many stories about my 2 years in United States Army.

I got three tickets in one day, the day before entering the army. This was not good but I really wanted to enjoy what I thought might be my last days of life. I entered in August of 1967 at Houston Texas on my way to Fort Bliss in El Paso Texas. We arrived at 10 PM, processed in and was in bed at 12:30 AM. At 4:30 AM someone ( a drill sergeant ) I would grow to really wish would find something else to do with his time was blowing a whistle in my ear letting me know this was the first day of 730 that was going to a real test to my tolerance for stress.

Welcome to The United States Army America Boy.

Each day of my first eight weeks is almost a novel in itself.

This first story took place a high noon in the middle of the dessert during lunch. I was losing weight so fast that most of the time my memory was about two steps behind me. As I was eating lunch the same sergeant that had that whistle that was music to my ears inquired to the whereabouts of my most valuable possesion, my army helmet. Looking across the sand about 100 yards away I spotted it and proceded to retrive it. The sargeant question was: Pine where are you going ? Sargeant I am going to show you where my helmet is. No Pine, lay face down, in the sand and move all the sand for the next 100 yards towards your helmet. There was not another time I can recall I did not have my helmet with me.

Welcome to The United States Army America Boy.

Funny, Funny story Rodney! 100 yards is a long pull in El Paso.

I have a helmet story. But it won't be funny I'm afraid. Like you. It DID result in my WEARING my helmet when supposed to. And it never felt heavy, cumbersome or in any way out of the ordinary from then on.

But now am remembering another helmet story that IS funny. I'll tell it another day.

Thanks for you service to this country my good friend and American veteran.

Well Rodney. Good going with Vet stories. Here is mine, also having a happy outcome, regarding my helmet.

I was at a place called Ky Ha, which was north and east of the main base being built at Chu Lai. I had the duty of guarding from a cliff that dropped straight down about 100 or so feet to a beach that ran out to the ocean for about 50 yards, all covered in Pine trees and jungle like stuff. My place was a hole that I and another guy had dug out with a pic ax and standard entrenching tool (small shovel). More than being "dug' out, we had carved and chiseled it from red volcanic like stone. I had made a place to sit, which also served as a spot to lie down while it was my partner's turn to watch out and down into the darkness.

On this night, a typhoon was hitting the helicopter base behind us. The winds and rain were heavy at our spot as it was the last position sticking out from the cliff directly into the South China Sea. As my time for sleep came, I pulled my poncho over my head to keep the rain of fast flying pellets from hitting it. But I made the mistake of taking the plastic covering off and trying to make it into a lean-to or tent. The wind got under it and I stared as the poncho lifted and then flew up, disappearing into the darkness and rain. There was nothing then to stop the sharp hits to and on my face. So I rolled over and buried my head in the upside down helmet with its webbing holding me out of the bottom. After a few minutes I went to sleep, no matter the rain striking the back of me. All was fine, for a while.

Regrettably, the water slid down the back of my head and while out like a light it filled the plastic insert part of my upside down helmet. Asleep, I began to dream that I was drowning in a lake. But when I couldn't breathe any more I awakened finding my helmet had filled with rain water past my nose and mouth, preventing me from being able to breathe. I remember rolling the hard cover enough to drain out the water, then putting my head back in it to return to the rest. As I placed my face back down into the canvas straps, though, I recall  this time thinking "I bet I'll be the only KIA in the morning who went down by drowning a hundred feet above the water line." I could see my family and friends both laughing and crying back home over my unseemly demise, which of course did not happen. I also remember thinking, "Well, I hope they'll be crying, too."

I was never issued another poncho, making it through the next 2 months of monsoons, and as a matter of fact the entire tour, without one.

Of incidental note upon rereading this, I have never allowed myself for the last 45 years to use an umbrella or raincoat in the rain. Or to even run to avoid getting wet, no matter where I was or how I was dressed. I guess you could say I no longer had the brains to get out of the rain.

Skip Collins
Chu Lai, Ky Ha, late September, 1965.