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 untimely 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   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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