Christmas 1967

---

by Al Scott

---

Christmas 1967

For those who know me I really don't talk about Nam at all.
What you are about to read is an actual account that happen to me
when I was 19 years old.


Date: 25 December 1967
Place: Cu Chi, South Viet Nam
Unit: E Company, 1st BN, 501st INF (ABN), 101st Airborne Division

It started out like any day in the Army (Shitty). Our Platoon Sergeant, SFC Peel, woke the platoon up at 0400hrs. As we felt our way into a formation (so damn dark). Peel told us we were going for a little run around the perimeter (close to 6 miles). As the platoon made its way around the perimeter, we could not do any cadence calls (just might give our positions away, not to the VC but, our own guys). Talk about a cluster F---. We had guys running into one another, falling on top of the person in front of them. We made it by to the Company area (Pissed to the max). We were dismissed to go eat chow and formation would be at 0730hrs. We went into the building that was being used as the mess hall. Went thru the line and sat down to eat this wonderful breakfast (Powered eggs, chilled milk and bread as hard as a rock). One of the guys made a comment about all the black little balls on the table and on the floor. SKI from Detroit, said you have any idea what those are? Hell no, what are they, man that's rat shit!!!! Half of us just left, so much for Christmas breakfast.

0730hrs., Platoon was assembled and everyone accounted for. SFC Peel informed us that there will no mail call, because the mail has not caught up to us at are new location (Seven days in this hell hole and no mail, Christmas not looking good) SFC Peel then made us do an open ranks and asked if anyone has any comments about the run, that we took and if so step forward. Well, two of us had the guts to take the step (SP4 Scott and SP4 Palumbo). Me being in the first squad, Peel came to me first and put that F---ing face of his into mine. Well, Specialist what do you think of the run! With a straight face and in a calm manner I said, "It sucked"(Like what can they do to me, send me to Viet Nam). The 1st SGT, was walking towards the platoon (With a smile on his face, must of heard my comment), so Peel didn't say anything. I over heard (I had great hearing at this time) the 1st SGT say, he needed people to pass out the care packages (stuff for the soldiers, from the Red Cross). So, Peel had us get back in ranks. And told me and Palumbo to report to the 1st SGT's hootch at 0900hrs.

As ordered Palumbo and I, reported to the 1st SGT at his hootch. At this time he told us to stand by and he left us there for about 20 minutes. When he returned, he handed us both a pair of gloves and a stick that was about 4 foot long. Confused was not the word, what's this for????? You two take this equipment and grab some of those 5 gallons cans of diesel fuel. All I could say was and do what, 1st SGT! Don't you soldiers know, you are on my SHIT burning detail?

As we made our over to the latrine area, with all of our equipment. We both had to take a minute and look at the job that was before us. This was no ordinary Shit house!!!! Back in Missouri, my Uncle Eddie had a two-seater shitter and he was the talk of the town. This Shit house had six seats, screens on it, so you can see out and doors in the back with hooks (for unloading).

Well someone had to make the first move and it wasn't me. He got the door opened and I have never smelt anything that bad in my life. After a lot hacking, each of us grabs a handle and started to pull the first of six drums (55gal drums cut in half) out of there slots. If anyone has handled a pan full of water with hands on both ends and walked (how much did you spill). Again it was not me that lost the grip and had some of the contents spill on him.

We managed to get all six drums out (both of us by this time have lost our grip) and in the area were, we could commence with torching these drums. The torching is not that easy, you have to light the diesel fuel before the shit burns. Our only means to light the fuel was matches. So now we got to light the match and stick our hand into the drum, till the fuel starts burning. With all six on fire and burning we thought to ourselves, the worst is over!!! Wrong, not only did we have to start the shit a burning (remember the gloves and stick) now, we have to stir the shit to ensure all of it gets burned.

About two hours pass, the temperature has reach around 100 degrees and of all people SFC Peel shows up. The asshole is smiling from ear to ear. He hands us our lunch (C-rations) and walks away. The meal the asshole gave me was, Dice beef and gravy. Looks exactly like the shit were burning. Put it in the drum, my Christmas lunch!

In the middle of stirring, I heard something coming over the PA system. Some bastard is playing dashing thru the snow in a one horse open slay. At this point my mind went into a F--- It mode.

It's 1600hrs, all six drums completely burned and filled with diesel fuel and placed back in the crapper. The four-foot sticks are about two foot and the both of us smelled just like what we were burning. Went to our platoon hootch and we were meet by our squad leaders, who inform us that our sleeping areas were change to keep the platoon morale up (THE HELL WITH OURS). Our equipment now located in the farthest end of the hootch, just thought the hell with it, take a shower, change clothes and will be back to normal. Wrong answer, the houseboy who was doing the laundry took the day off (No clean fatigues). The shower did not have any water, those guys (Quartermaster) got the day off too!

Morale to this story, None.
If on this day, If I was not able to get a breakfast, no big deal.
If on this day, If I did not receive a letter, card or gift, no big deal.
If on this day, I was not able to eat a big Christmas Lunch/Dinner, no big deal.

However if on this day, someone was to hand me a pair of gloves and a four foot stick, that would again, be the shittiest day of my life

Kenneth "Al" Scott
E/1/501
1967