I WAS AN OFFICER! I had pinned my bars on one month earlier, and was now reporting to the 101st Aviation BN at Ft. Campbell, KY. To say that I was excited is a HUGE understatement. I was positively giddy. At oh seven hundred, I reported in at Battalion Headquarters, and was assigned to the 101 Trans, an aircraft maintenance company. Sergeant Haverkost, from the 101 Trans, came to pick me up. He reminded me of Burt Reynolds, as First Sergeant Warden, in the movie GONE WITH THE WIND. He had wide shoulders, a broad chest, and a trim waist. He was wearing the short sleeve khaki shirt, which showed that he also had powerful arms. He was, as they say, ‘bulked up with muscle.’ “I’ve got my car,” I told him. “I’ll follow you.” “Leave it here, sir, we’ll come back for it. Cap’n Bailey wants me to show you around.” It was first time I had ever been called sir…and this by an E-7. My highest enlisted rank had been sergeant E-5. When I got into the car with the sergeant, the first thing he did was pull a bottle of whiskey from the glove compartment, and take a drink. He passed the bottle to me. “Here you are, sir. Take a snort.” Was he testing me? What was I supposed to do? This was my very first day….my very first hour, as an officer, and I was witnessing a sergeant, drinking whiskey, while on duty. I didn’t want to get into any kind of adversarial relationship on my very first day, especially someone this big. I took the bottle from him, took a small swallow, then re-capped the bottle. I saw the sergeant smile. We went to the barracks. “Ten hut!” someone shouted as soon as I stepped inside. Reflexively, I assumed a brace. “Sir, you don’t have to be at attention. That’s for you,” Sergeant Haverkost said. Again, the smile. Wow, I told myself. I’ve been here less than half an hour, and I’ve made a double fool of myself in front of this sergeant. I know he’s going to tell all the other NCOs, and I’ll be the laughing stock of the company. When we reached company area, I saw a hangar, filled with helicopters in various stages of maintenance, most with the engine and transmission cowl removed, doors off, and seats out. “The orderly room is upstairs,” Sergeant Haverkost said. He didn’t go up the stairs with me, and somehow I felt as if I were Daniel, stepping into the lion’s den. When I went into the office, Captain Bailey, a man who very much resembled the actor, Richard Widmark, stood to greet me. He extended his hand as I started to salute, then returned the salute I hadn’t yet given, as I extended my hand. After the confusion, I reported to him. “Sir,” I paused. Should I introduce myself as ‘Mister,’ which is how warrant officers were addressed, or as warrant officer? I chose the latter. “Warrant officer Robert Vaughan reporting for duty, sir.” “Do you go by Bob, or Robert?” “I go by Dick, Sir.” “Dick?” “Yes, sir. “ I was used to the confusion with my name, I had dealt with it for my entire life. “Interesting, so do I.” “No problem, Sir, you’ll be Sir or Captain to me.” Captain Bailey chuckled. “So I will. Well, Mr. Vaughan, I’m glad you’re here. I’m leaving today for a two week leave. You have the company.” “Sir?” I replied, shocked at what I had just heard. “But I just got here. I have to be your junior most officer.” “You are. You are also my only officer. You won’t have any problems, just show up every day and sit behind this desk. The NCO’s will run the Company. “Yes, sir.” Six days into my first ‘command’ one of the men, PFC Dagen, made some sort of derogatory response to something I had told him to do. I wasn’t sure how to handle it. Should I yell at him? Should I give him some sort of company punishment? Was I even authorized to give company punishment? I called on Sergeant Haverkost. “Sergeant, I’m not sure how to handle this, but Dagen mouthed off to me in a very disrespectful way. You know I’m new at this officer business. Do you have any suggestions?” “I’ll take care of it, Mr. Vaughan.” “Thank you, Sergeant.” About fifteen minutes later, Sergeant Haverkost stepped in through the door. “Mr. Vaughan, PFC Dagen is here, and he has something to say to you.” “All right, send him in.” “Come on in here, Dagen, and report to the CO.” Dagen came into the office. One eye was blackened, and swollen shut. His lip was puffed up, and split, and there was a bit of blood on his chin. He came to attention and saluted. “Sir, PFC Dagen reporting the commanding officer as ordered.” I was almost too shocked by his appearance to return the salute. “Tell him!” Haverkost ordered. “Mr. Vaughan, I’m sorry I was . . .uh . . .” “Disrespectful,” Haverkost prompted. “Disrespectful.” “Very well, Dagen, you are dismissed.” I said. Dagen turned. “Salute again, Dagen,” Haverkost ordered. “Oh, sorry,” Dagen mumbled. “Uh, sir.” He saluted, and I returned it. Haverkost flashed a huge grin at me. “That take care of it for you, Sir?” “Yes, Sergeant, thank you,” I replied. As he left, I put my head in my hands. Never was I as glad to see someone return from leave as I was the day Captain Bailey returned to duty.
Posted on: Fri, 12 Sep 2014 15:38:05 +0000
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