As a cadet my vision of the Army was based primarily upon interaction with the officers and soldiers at the Academy and those few trainers whom we met during summer training. Needless to say, it was not a representative cross section but how was I to know. I thought that all officers owned lined capes to wear with their mess dress blues!
Ranger, Airborne and Engineer Basic provided a little better perspective but not much and so after completing Engineer Officer Basic Course, I was turned loose on U.S. Army Europe’s (USAEUR) 12th Engineer Battalion located in the tiny hamlet of Dexheim, West Germany.
I arrived after my sponsor decided that I really didn’t need to spend the night at the Rhein Main Visiting Officer Quarters, so he pounded on the door and told me we were going to the unit so that I could be at morning formation. A bleary eyed Second Lieutenant Drower finally arrived at his new home about 1:30 in the morning.
The next morning was my introduction to the Vietnam-era Army in Europe and it was a doozy. My suspicions were raised when I attended the morning parade formation. Most platoons in the battalion contained all of 8-10 soldiers vs. the normal complement of 28-30; there were only three Captains in sight. Two of these Captains were company commanders while the other four companies were all commanded by First Lieutenants. Since officers usually came down on orders to Vietnam after 12 months, most of the officers had me by only a couple of months in seniority and experience – it was going to be a case of the blind leading the blind.
I was assigned as Heavy Equipment Platoon Leader but due to low staffing created by the turbulence of Vietnam transfers and enlistment completions, many duties were shared. I found myself in a dusty, windblown Motor Pool reading off the daily preventative maintenance (PM) checks to a line of 5-ton trucks – none of which were assigned to me.
The only problem was that there were drivers for only about 10% of the vehicles and so most of the trucks just sat there accumulating dust. After completing the PM’s, I decided to wander along the lines of trucks and personnel carriers spread around the Motor Pool. I came across 4 troopers in various vehicles, all of whom were well into a marijuana induced nap! I rousted them out and when I reported the incident; I learned that this was a routine occurrence.
My first week came to a fitting conclusion on Saturday afternoon. Instead of turning everyone free, the Battalion Commander decided that the motor pool needed cleaning and everyone turned out with a broom. Unfortunately, the post was surrounded by fields and vineyards. In early March the clouds of dust rolled across the entire post and our cleanup efforts reminded me of King Canute trying to hold back the sea with his raised hand. I couldn’t have invented a better symbol for the frustration of US Army in Europe.
No training at West Point or anywhere else had prepared me for the futility and the frustration of USAREUR in 1970/71. I soon found out that the drug problem was severe and evening barracks checks frequently led to an entrance into a room illuminated by a black light and smoking pipes and other articles piled in the center so that nobody could be linked to them. I was thankful that I was low on the totem pole because I really felt for the poor Battalion Commanders whose careers depended on the efficiency and effectiveness of their units – they didn’t have a chance.
As time went on, staffing levels improved, the Vietnam drawdown meant that experienced officers and non-commissioned officers could stay in the unit for more than 12 months, and tough drug policies began to have a positive effect. I never ceased to get a special feeling when I led my company out the gate on an early morning alert and we would roar thru the local towns. The untiring efforts of officers, NCO’s and many ordinary soldiers turned the 12th Engineers into a very good unit fully capable of carrying out all of our combat engineer missions including bridging the Rhein in conjunction with other engineer battalions. Nevertheless, I will not forget my introduction into the “hollow army” and it is a warning about what can happen when the hierarchy refuses to recognize the reality of budgetary and personnel limitations on real life units.
Germany in the early 70s was a realty check for us young bucks in terms of expectations. I experienced the same thing in Mech Infantry thankful for an “old” E-6 Platoon Sergeant who taught me the ropes.
Gerry,
It was certainly an experience. I recall our first trip to Graf! The colonel wanted to set an example so when he saw a divisional vehicle checkpoint he ignored his driver and told him to go straight to it. The CO was an unhappy camper when they deadlined his jeep on the spot!
Another time we went on a battalion FTX. The big thing was that supposedly a local German had allowed us to actually use demo to take down trees and to build obstacles on his land. Unfortunately something had gotten lost on the tranlation brcause the forestmeister came along and told us he expe ted everything to be cut into 1 meter lengths and stacked by the roads.
Thanks for the article, Pete. I was very blessed to have served in the Berlin Brigade after school, which was a lot better in many ways than being in the Zone. I don’t envy any of you who had to slog through those times. Good to see that you were able to finish out your service in the Reserves. Like you I too retired as a COL after 17 years in the Maine Army National Guard. West Point and service to our country has been very good to both of us.
God bless, Ray Dupere
Quite a bit has transpired Pete, since we shared that space blanket during the Mountain Phase of Ranger School, so many years ago
Rackin in the ORP!
Your article evoked memories of my service at Fort Lewis during the VOLAR experiment and impending transition. There was actually a post-wide officers call by the Post (and I believe Corps) Commander in those days (some time around 1971). This GO will go unnamed but I clearly recall his standing up and telling us this whole volunteer Army business was never going to work and would go away. Don’t think he got a 4th star.
Thanks, Pete
Reminds me of a meeting of officers in our battalion in Goeppingen in 1973. The battalion CO was reaming out company commanders for poor maintenance of their vehicles. He particularly called out the Combat Support Company CO, because, at the latest alert, half of his tracked vehicles stayed in the motor pool. After several minutes of beratement, the Company CO raised his hand to speak. The Bn CO, still huffing and puffing, allowed the CPT to speak. He, very calmly, told the Bn CO that, in fact, all of his tracked vehicles were ready to go, but he didn’t have enough people in his outfit who were even allowed to have a driver’s license, their mental scores being so low. The Bn CO, after a good dose of crow, apologized to the CSC CO, shrugged, and the meeting proceeded.
It wasn’t Hewitt. Was It.
I was Hq Co clerk 66–68. We were a better unit than I now read about! My opinion.
I was a U.S, and feel we were a better army for guys like me.
Drugs were there, but limited, and to a few off places. Can you spell Alzey?
ADM were smart, trained and rightfully nervous. Hvy Eq did nice civic jobs.
Nice place, no MPs and the Col’s wife drove a 2+2 Jag E type.
I studied the German language, hung at the DK in Nierstein and was
so happy not be be in Nam. Dual Primed!
Having served with the 1st Battalion 36th Field Artillery in Augsburg, Germany in 1973 – 74 your description of the rollout of the VOLAR Army was spot-on. As a recent college graduate, I was swept up in the final stages of the draft in 1972 to ensure troop levels were adequate to meet the needs of the United States Army. As a new high school teacher, I was actually drafted out of the classroom. When I declined the offer to enlist for an additional year to select an MOS of my choosing, I was told that I would most assuredly be assigned to combat arms. Without the fear of Vietnam, I was fine with whatever the Army decided to do with me. I just wanted to get back to my high school classroom as soon as possible.
I hope I’m not stepping on toes, but after finishing my Basic Training at Fort Lost in the Woods in January and February of 1973, I prayed that I wouldn’t be assigned to the Combat Engineers. I can still vividly remember watching trainees standing waist deep in freezing water building a bridge across the Big Piney River only to have a demolition team blow it up during the night. My prayers were answered, and I was sent to Artillery School at Fort Sill to become a Basic Artillery Crewman, a Cannon Cocker / Projo Humper / Gun Bunny.
By chance, on a flight home from Ft. Leonard Wood I was seated next to a former student at the high school where I taught that had gotten into trouble with law. He told me that the judge gave him a choice, enlist in the Army, or go to jail. Naturally he decided to into the Army. Given his poor grades and drug related offences in school, I held no illusions as too what kind of soldier he would become. Sadly, this was typical of the VOLAR Army at the time. At both Ft. Leonard Wood and Fort Sill, the majority of the men in my Basic Training Company, and AIT Training Battery were either college graduates, or high school dropouts.
As a college graduate, when I arrived at my permanent duty station in Augsburg, I was fortunate enough to be assigned to replace the outgoing Battalion Legal Clerk and afforded the opportunity to work in S1 under the command of CSM Elvin Hulshizer. After less than a week in the unit, my welcome to the unit was a race riot at Grafenwöhr, with injuries ranging from minor cuts and bruises, to broken bones, and even a soldier with his throat slit. I quickly discovered that drug abuse was rampant throughout USAER, and the readiness of most units was well below standards.
As noted in your article, vehicle readiness was a major issue. Despite the best efforts of CWC3 Mr. Lowe, it was a struggle to keep the M110 howitzers, and support vehicles in operational condition. Rarely did we ever have a 548 operational. We relied on Duce and a halfs and Five Ton Trucks to haul ammunition, and our 577s weren’t much better. The poor quality of the soldiers in the Motor Pool was only a small part of the problem. Replacement parts were difficult to obtain, and often we waited for months to get the replacement parts we needed.
Most of my time as Battalion Legal Clerk was spent dealing with drug related offenses. Fortunately, the Army realized that the Article 13 process took far too long to eliminate problem soldiers, and implimented the Expeditious Discharge Program. Thanks to the Herculean efforts of CSM Hulshizer and Major Bruce, things started to improve by the time I left the unit in December of 1974.
The early days of the VOLAR Army should stand as a stark warning to the American people over our military preparedness. While the caliber of men serving in the United States Army is far superior to many of the men that served in the 1970, we’re currently facing not only a shortage of spare parts, but ammunition as well. We can’t afford to return to the conditions of the 1970s. We need to fund the military at the appropriate level, and see that our service men and woman are paid the salaries they deserve.
Great comments. USAREUR was certainly a different experience. I was fortunate to stay long enough to see real improvement and by the time I turned over my company command in June 74 we had an effective battalion.
All the problems that Moore pointed out persisted in The Heim right into the early ‘80’s. Yes there were some improvements, but it was largely left up to the individual soldiers to get it together. Command was systemically a failure in many ways and to be straight up about it, duty in Dexheim sucked. Getting off the base was absolutely necessary to maintain your sanity and unfortunately for many it was easier to indulge in self-destructive behavior. When you begin to think you’re just more cannon fodder for the Army balance sheet it tends to have some very bad reprecussions. It took a hell of a lot to improve morale, and it certainly wasn’t coming from the top in those days.
Pete,
I was searching for a Dexheim doctor and came across your site. What a surprise! Here are a few of my recollections.
I well remember the 12th from my tour as commander from July 1972 to July 1974. I arrived at Rhein-Main AFB and was met by my predecessor who I knew from the 307th Engineers, 82d Airborne. His first comment was “Marty, I am really glad to see you. I can’t wait to get out of this hellhole.” To put it lightly, this was an eye opener for me. He had gotten crossways with his boss, Assistant Division Commander BG Max Thurman. I first met MG Davison, the division commander, in the hospital. He had messed up his knees in jump school. He gave me some stern guidance. I remember the first work call formation I witnessed. There weren’t many soldiers there, so I began asking questions and found that the officers and NCO’s felt there was no support from above. I made it my mission to provide all the support I could, and we began working to improve things. The first effort was to get full attendance at work call. After getting a decent number attending, I called the company commanders to the front of the formation and told them to conduct a shakedown of every enlisted soldier. The things that were revealed included lots of hashish, some qualludes, some knives, but no guns. There was some heroin but no cocaine. A lot of the troops had needle marks. We then took the soldiers to the barracks and searched their areas and found more stuff. The most astounding to me was that one man had constructed a coffin and used it as his bunk. We corrected what we could (we includes all officers and NCO’s). I then sought help from division Headquarters and USAREUR sent an MP captain to consult with me. All of that helped immensely but I never felt the problem was ever completely solved. There was a big problem with draft dissidents and we also had a black power group of around thirty or so soldiers that met every week on the parade field bleachers. Since I knew the time and place for their meeting, I began sitting there before they arrived. Of course I had backup. Eventually, they became less public about things. The NCO Club was also a problem, so the major who was Dexheim community coordinator and I would visit from time to time to see what was going on. Other problem areas included the mess hall and things like the theater and PX. Every payday we assembled the battalion in the gym for my payday talk. I remember taking questions and tried to answer every one as calmly as I could. There were some doozies. The NCO’s felt that enlisted men’s word was being believed before theirs and I made a big effort to support them. If a soldier was charged with an offense, I always gave out the stiffest punishment allowed by Article 15. Eventually, this helped.
We did begin to conduct some effective training and I remember a lot of people were proud of their accomplishments. A highlight was the Rhine River crossing in early 1973 when the MAB companies of all three divisions bridged the river in an hour and fifty minutes, a record at the time. The origin of the idea came from our bridge company commander. He kept bugging me to set up joint training with the other two divisional bridge companies so that they could bridge the Rhine. I never did take this too seriously until one day MG Davison called me into his office and directed me to come up with an engineer task for the upcoming division exercise. I confirmed that this was feasible and after assurance that it was, I went back to division and pitched the idea to MG Davison, telling him we would need the other bridge companies. He went to USAREUR and sold the idea, so the plan started to jell. Our bridge company commander handled all of the coordination and training and was ready to go for the exercise. Permission was granted to close the river from midnight to noon on the first day of the exercise, so the plan was to begin assembling the MAB’s at midnight, expecting to complete the bridge in about four hours. In the last briefing for the division staff, I mentioned that this would be the first time this had ever been tried, at which MG Davison came unglued. After a few unkind words he said to me “This had better work or you and I will be swimming down that damn river”. As things worked out the bridging went much faster than anticipated and I had to radio division to get MG Davison there in time to see the bridge completed. He made it in time, put all three bridge company commanders on the back of his jeep and cruised across the bridge a happy man. After crossing one of the division’s brigades, we had a briefing for all interested parties. After the briefing, MG Koisch, the USAEUR Engineer, called me aside I thought for a compliment; however, he put me in a brace and chewed me out primarily for degrading maintenance of the MAB’s.
The remainder of my tour was fairly routine except for a couple of incidents. The first happened on a weekend when the duty officer called me to say that the D Company armorer had taken a 45 pistol and was threatening to shoot up the town of Dexheim. I called the D Company Commander and asked if he was on good terms with the armorer. He was, so he, the Chaplain and I met the armorer on the field below the apartments. We sat with him for some time but could not convince him to give up the weapon. He finally got up and started to walk toward Dexheim. I made a beeline to my car with the intention of running him down if necessary. I made it to the federal highway and as I rounded the curve saw a German police car coming. It stopped short of the armorer who was walking toward them. The car’s doors popped open and a couple of policemen with Uzi’s jumped out and shouted in perfect English “Drop it”. Turned out that our duty officer had called them. I never saw the armorer again.
The second incident happened on a duty day when a soldier entered battalion headquarters brandishing a 45. Seems he wanted to gain notoriety by killing me and there he was, standing in front of my desk pointing a gun at me. I proceeded to talk to him as calmly as possible when all of a sudden, my exec came in and started yelling at the man. I told him he wasn’t being helpful and that he should leave, which he did. Our Sergeant Major was there but couldn’t do much to help beyond talking to the man. Amazingly, I was able to talk to him and finally told him that he could shoot me but that it wouldn’t even make the Stars and Stripes news; that he would have to kill a general for that. Amazingly, the man then gave up the gun. Crisis averted.
I was paid a huge compliment by MG Davison. He asked me to extend my tour as battalion commander from eighteen months to twenty-four months. I jumped at the opportunity. On the day my driver picked me up for my farewell ceremony I can remember having tears in my eyes. I loved that outfit and its people.
This has gotten too long. Thanks for setting up this web site.