The Real Story

At the time I told people I picked up a white star cluster flare by accident. But it wasn’t a mistake. I did it on purpose. In fact I planned the whole thing, and no one knew it was coming but me.

In late 1970 troop levels were drawing down in Vietnam, and we were getting soldiers from deactivated units who did not have enough time in country to rotate back to the states. These were guys who were not open to change. First they were pissed off they were not going home, and second they already thought they knew it all. The gun chiefs from other units were as much a problem as the crew members. It seemed to me we were getting loose and sloppy. I wanted to see exactly what kind of shape we were in and how we would respond to a perceived ground attack. The white star cluster was my little test.

I planned all along to take it on myself as a dumb second lieutenant who screwed up. Otherwise I’d be opening myself to disciplinary action, maybe even a court martial.

I went out to the tower by the Duster, the same one at which my friend got his belly scratch, and told the guard to had me a popper. He wanted to give me an ordinary illumination flare, but I said no, give me the white star cluster. I popped it and right away everything broke loose. I was impressed with the reaction time of the guard towers, the quad-50 machine guns, the Dusters and even the howitzers. Then a red star cluster came right over the Duster, meaning the howitzer was about to shoot a beehive round directly into the wire in our direction (a shell with 8000 metal fleshettes fired shotgun style). When I saw the red star cluster I thought, Aw shit. I dove down next to the Duster busting my shoulder up against the track, and WHOOOSE all those fleshettes came flying overhead. I called a CHECK FIRE into FDC and everything calmed down.

I went over to the gun that fired the beehive. The gun chief told me the SOP of the unit he came from was to lower the tube and fire a beehive if a white cluster went up – automatically – and he he had no idea he was supposed to signal with a red star cluster first. Fortunately one of the older guys in his unit did, or I would have been standing on the berm like an idiot and made into hamburger.

Then battalion called thinking Sherry was getting a ground attack. I told battalion I screwed up because a guy handed me the wrong popper. I got chewed out a little, mostly because of all the ammo we shot up.

The true story is I wanted to pop a white star cluster just to see how the battery would react. I didn’t discuss it with anybody, not the battery commander or the first sergeant. In retrospect it probably wasn’t a real smart thing to do.

The next morning in the mess hall several guys from the guns and some of the old timers walked by and gave me a thumbs-up. The Chief of Smoke (senior sergeant in charge of all the howitzers) came up and said, “What happened, lieutenant?”

I said, “I screwed up, Smoke. Just grabbed the wrong popper.”

He smiled and said, “Yeah, right.”

Leaving Vietnam

It was strange when someone would leave to go home. They were just gone one day. No shouting, no yelling, just a quiet ride out. When I left Sherry I felt a little guilty, that these guys were still there and I was leaving.

When I was in Officer Candidate School, shortly after I got word I was going to Vietnam, I was laying in my bed and I asked God if I would be coming back. I heard, or felt – I was not quite sure which – an answer. It was a clear NO. I had never before heard so clear a voice

With just a few days left at Sherry I had a dream about leaving. The Huey supply helicopter that was to take me out was down for scheduled maintenance. However FDC informed me the battalion XO was in the area and I could catch ride out with him. As we are lifting off from the helipad in my dream another Huey helicopter appears and crashes into us. As we are going down I say over and over, “I knew it. I knew it.”

When the great day came for me to leave, true to my dream I got word that my helicopter was down for maintenance. But not to worry because the battalion XO was in the air and would give me a ride. I told my assistant XO about my dream and instructed him to let everyone know I knew my helicopter would go down in a crash.

I boarded the battalion XO’s Huey, put a headset on and held tight to the thumb key that would let me talk to the pilot. As we lifted off you better believe I scanned the sky in all directions for the killer helicopter, which never materialized.

At the officers club in Cam Rahn, waiting for a flight home, I grabbed an empty seat and struck up a conversation with a first lieutenant sitting next to me. They had lost my suitcase so I did not have a dress uniform to go home in. I mentioned to him that I was headed to the PX to buy a khaki uniform for the trip, which was the best I could manage. That’s when he said to me he had gotten a letter from his parents asking him not to wear his uniform home. He said to me, “Can you believe it? My own parents!” He was was almost in tears telling me this.

I said, “Maybe it’s because they don’t want you to be insulted or spit on. Maybe they don’t want you to go through that.”

He said, “Hell no, they just don’t want to see me in my uniform. But you know what? I’m wearing my uniform.”

I flew home out of Cam Rahn on a civilian aircraft. As we lifted off a cheer went up. One person yelled, “Fuck you, Vietnam,” which brought another cheer.

At Ft. Lewis, Washington I processed out and went immediately to the small post exchange for civilian cloths. There was not a big selection because everybody wanted new civvies and you had to take what they had. You saw big guys in pants over their ankles and shirts they couldn’t button. I found a close fitting shirt and trousers, and headed into the restroom to change. There the floor was covered with muddy jungle fatigues, kicked off and just laying there. I remember as a kid seeing snake skins laying in the woods where they had been shed. It seemed to me these guys had shed their Vietnam skins.

My first assignment out of Vietnam was Ft. Riley, Kansas – my third tour there. The family and I were attending church one Sunday in Junction City and as we were walking out someone took my arm. I turned to see Colonel Meis. He said, “You made it alright!” He thanked me for helping his son in Vietnam, who was now, he said proudly, a student at Kansas State University.

Bill would serve a full twenty years in the Army and achieve the rank of captain, not an easy task in the years after Vietnam when the military was shrinking. Through difficulties and setbacks, few of which are recounted in these stories, he never stopped loving the Army with the same fervor of the 17 year old kid who had found a home there.

A proud moment came in 2009 at Ft. Benning, Georgia when Captain Cooper (Retired) and Honey attended the graduation of their grandson Brandon from basic training.

Sergeant Brandon Bridge served in the Army for five years, four and a half of them across five tours of duty in Afghanistan as an airborne ranger.