|
My name is John Osbeck.
I was born in Brooklyn, New York in September 1943. I was the
first of 3 kids. My father left us before my brother was born in
April 1947. We lived at 56th Street and 6th Avenue. I attended Our Lady Of Perpetual Help school at 59th
Street & 6th Avenue for a couple of years then transferred to PS 140
at 59th Street and 4th Avenue. In 1959 I started at Fort Hamilton
High School where I dropped out in the middle of my 2nd year as a sophomore.
I worked for a short while at a book publisher in Manhattan then settled
in with the A&P for about a year. |
Early 1944
|
In February 1962 I joined the army for adventure & went to
Fort Dix, NJ for my basic with Company M, 4th Training
Regt. Here I had my butt chewed for the first time by Sgt.
Glover when I tripped getting off the bus.
We were not allowed to leave the
company area for the first few weeks but we were required to
purchase certain articles from the PX such as toiletries, rifle
cleaning kits & etc. Our caring and wonderful platoon
sergeants to the rescue. They sold these items to
us. We found out later how much markup they took for their
trouble. Our rifle was the M1 Garand left over from World
War II (I now am the proud owner of one of these fine
weapons. It was manufactured the same month and year that
I was born). We had a very lazy training staff.
While other companies were running or walking to ranges &
such, we rode in "cattle cars", 5 ton tractors pulling
open topped trailers. I signed up to go to Germany and
asked for the infantry, so of course they sent me to radio
school where I graduated 12th in my class (of
12). Here the emphases
was on learning Morse code (13 wpm), with a little phonetic
alphabet, procedure,
encoding and decoding. |
|
Off to Germany in August on the good ship
Simon B. Buckner leaving from the Brooklyn Army Terminal down
the block from where I lived.
Half way over we got the news about Marilyn
Monroe. |
On arrival in Bremerhaven many of
us boarded a train for the trip to Kaiserslautern where the
596th Signal Company (Support) was domiciled. Here I and a
few others were put in the back of a 3/4 ton truck for a long
ride to Panzer Kaserne where I joined up with the part of Radio
Platoon that was attached to D Company, 97th Signal
Battalion. On the ride down we had a little excitement
when we noticed nuts and bolts coming out from under our truck
& bouncing along the road behind us. Turns out the
drive shaft just came apart & we had to call for another
truck to finish the trip. Robert Stevens
talks about this problem in his account. |
This part of Radio Platoon was known as Hotel
Net. We had 1 AN/GRC 26D mounted on a 2 1/2 ton truck that acted as
the net control and 5 jeeps each containing a AN/GRC 19 as our primary
(HF) radio and a AN/GRC 9 as a backup. The jeeps pulled trailers
containing C rations, spare parts, a hand operated generator, antennas
and some change of clothes among other things. This is where and
when I learned to drive. Bolted to our front
bumper of each vehicle was a piece of 12 X 12" plywood painted red
with the word HOTEL and the color of the site assigned to that
vehicle. I still have mine. I was HOTEL RED.
These signs told the MPs and
German police to leave us alone while we were on the road. When the
alert horn went off we moved like firefighters. One guy ran to the
motor pool to get the jeep while the other stopped at the orderly room
to pick up the weapons (M14 rifle) and SOI. We would meet outside
the front door of the barracks building, jump in the jeep at a roll and
on our way. In 15 or so minutes we would be checking in with net
control from our assigned site. We felt great when we occasionally
checked in before the net control got on the air. Almost anybody
could call an alert at any time from USAREUR (rare) to 7th ARMY
(monthly) down to
the platoon sergeant. We had a platoon sergeant (SSGT Koch) who was a bit
predictable. We knew we would get woken up from a sound sleep
whenever he got mad at anybody and that was often. If it was not
one of us then it was his girl friend or one of his superiors (usually
Smokey, our 1st Sgt.). The Cuban missile crises in October 1962
caused a few extra alerts for us.
On
the whole it was not bad duty except for the fact that most of us had a
hard time going anywhere to see the sights as we always seemed to be
short handed and had to have all the sites covered. On many an
occasion I had to handle it alone. It was scary
out there alone in the middle of those thick woods & no lights but
from the radio dials. Lots of strange noises for a city boy like
me. I guess that is why they did not give us any bullets. |
M 38A1 Jeep with trailer.
1 AN/GRC-19 and 1 AN/GRC-9
My
site, Hotel Red, was a small clearing next to a dirt road that went
through the forest to I don't know where. Nothing ever happened
there unless it was a USAREUR alert then there would be
hundreds of trucks using that road. In the year I was there I
think I saw activity on that road 3 or 4 times. Once I saw a Brig.
General standing there watching the trucks go by. Ooooooooo. |
| Well, I guess we scared old Ivan to the point that 7th
Army did not need us any more and told us to go home. When we got
the word that we were going back to the states I went to the dispensary
and had my shot record checked. They always do a shot record check
before you go anywhere and catch you up to date. I needed 7 so I
had one in each arm that day and over the next week I got the rest a
little at a time. When we got back to Kaiserslautern we were all
marched to the dispensary for a shot record check. The medic was very disappointed with mine as he found I was up to
date. Most of the rest of the company was walking around with sore
arms after getting 6 to 8 shots at once and they used those nasty air
guns that blow a stream of meds thru the skin. Fast for them but
painful for us. I'm glad I took the needles. So, it's back
on the train to Bremerhaven to catch the Simon B. Buckner for the trip to CONUS. A week or so later
we arrive at the Norfolk, Virginia naval base. Here we catch planes to Fort
Chaffee, Arkansas. This was my first flight. On arrival at
Fort Chaffee we were assigned to the just activated 509th Signal Battalion. |
We settled into our company area and were issued new
vehicles and a mix of old and new communications equipment. We had
to be retrained in using the new diesel trucks and the M151 Mutt (the
replacement for the good old M38A1 Jeep). These mutts would roll
over quick if you weren't careful. I was assigned a 2 1/2 ton
truck with a communication shelter in the bed containing a AN/GRC 26
radio teletype rig. There was also a trailer that had two 5KW
gasoline powered generators. This stuff was new to me so I had to
get in a lot of practice, especially with the typing. A radio is a
radio. They all had to be tuned in a similar way so other than
being larger it was not that different from my old angry 19. We
had a long tall Texan platoon sergeant, Tom Johnson, who was a ham radio operator.
He had his antenna strung between the barracks buildings. His call
sign was WA5AFI and when calling on the radio he would say it as
"Whiskey Alpha 5 Americas Favorite Idiot". He was cool. |
I qualified expert with the M 14 rifle but got cheated out of a perfect
score when the impatient 2nd lieutenant range officer kicked me in the
foot to hurry my shot while I was prone at 500 yards. Maggie's
draws. I was pissed but what could I do? That was my
last shot and I didn't have any bullets left. I came in second
because of him.
 I was invited to joint the Fort Chaffee rifle team
and accepted. I got to do a lot of shooting and firefighting when
we started the grass fires. We beat out the fires with large
rubber squares attached to broom handles. This got me out of a lot
of the make work stuff but not most of the training. I was sent to
the US Army Coaches Clinic in Fort Sill, Oklahoma for a week. I
learned a lot about shooting and saw some impressive demonstrations,
especially the Infantry Trophy team.
In November 1963 I was
in our barracks when I saw on the TV that President Kennedy had been
shot. I went up to the PX & had them turn on the news to catch
the reports. It was a sad time for us all.
|
Osbeck & Zurawski
1963
|
| In April 1964 we loaded our vehicles and
equipment on flatcars & took a train ride to Needles, California to
participate in Operation Desert Strike, a large field problem with over
100,000 troops from the National Guard, Reserves and Regular Army spread over 13 million acres of the California, Arizona
and Nevada desert up and down the Colorado River. Our company was
mainly in the Arizona desert north of Bouse and East of Parker close to
the Buckskin mountains. Those of you who have been to the NTC in
the summer know what it was like. We set up our site and began
operating. We used a tarp as a canopy, extending it out from the
side of the shelter on the truck. Under that were our cots &
sleeping bags. It was also the only real shade we had. It
was important to remember to shake the scorpions out our boots in the
morning. We had set up with the door of the shelter close to a
tree to try to get a little more shade back there. A few weeks
later the tree started attracting hoards of bumble bees. I
sometimes would walk out the door into a clouds of them. They never
once bothered any of us. We just moved slow through them. As the advance party we were
busy with message activity until the more advanced microwave stuff got
set up & operating then we just twiddled our thumbs. We kept
operating as back up but had plenty of time to see some of the
sights. Zurowski & I did some exploring with visits to the
mountains and a ghost town called Swansea. We took a bath in the
Bill Williams river. We also slipped into Bouse for some decent
food and cold beer. I picked up the habit of eating ice on this
trip. Talk about hot. Toward the end of each month I would
run out of money. I would try to borrow some from Zurowski and
that worked until he got down to the 20 dollar bill attached to his
drivers license. He said he would never part with that as it
went with the license if he got stopped by a cop. He said that
he learned that in Chicago where he lived. So we would have to
suffer the last week or so on army food and no beer. |
The exercise was from mid May to the
end of May. We were there 3 weeks before and 3 weeks after.
Better than 2 months.
Our company commander and first sergeant
borrowed our mutt one day & brought it back the next full of
blood. Seems they went hunting and got a deer. They ate well
while we had to clean the vehicle. Our section chief planted a
garden under a large saguaro cactus near our rig and called it
Burleson's pea patch. He did get some peas out of it. Near
the end of the exercise our side must have got desperate as some
officers rounded up a bunch of us comm guys & brought us to
Parker. There they formed us into squads & mine was hustled
down to the river west of the airport. Talk about fodder. Just after we arrived &
took cover a bunch of bad guys showed up. We shot at them &
they returned fire. I was looking down the barrel of a jeep
mounted 75mm recoilless rifle when it let go. Then they hauled
butt out of there. By us refusing that flank they were not able to
capture the airport & went back across the river to
California. So we won. Too bad I didn't live to see
it. At the conclusion of the exercise the town of Parker and it's
chamber of commerce hosted a huge barbeque in the park by the river for
any soldier in the area. That was good eating. Thanks
Parker. We got busy again until everybody could break down &
get gone then we packed up and convoyed back to Fort Chaffee. Very
soon after our arrival we were ordered to pack up again for the move to
Fort Huachuca, Arizona as Defense Secretary McNamara had closed Fort
Chaffee among other posts around the country. We loaded our vehicles
on trains again and those of us with our own vehicles were told to make
our way to Fort Huachuca. I drove my Olds and my two friends,
Sprague and Birmingham, rode their motorcycles. |
| On arrival we had not even gotten
properly settled in when we had to go back to the desert again to
support the testing of the new unmanned reconnaissance aircraft.
These were the things that they used in Viet Nam later. They shot
them off a rail mounted on the back of a truck with rocket motors then
the jet engine would take over. When they came back the engine
would just stop and the aircraft would parachute down to earth.
This time I was at a spot north of Dateland and east of Yuma. We
stayed there for about a month. Again it was off and on
busy. On one weekend we took the mutt and went into Yuma to see
what was there and get some cold beer and on
another we detached the doublet antenna and operated on whip while we
took the truck & trailer into Dateland to the diner for some decent
food. During a radio check by net control we could loudly hear
everything through the diners speakers real loud so we moved the truck across the
road & took turns eating. During our times in the field we
survived a lot on C-rations that we sometimes heated up on the engine
manifold so getting some good food and beer was a priority. After
we returned to the fort we finally established a regular work schedule
& so we had time for personal stuff. I took the test for my
GED & learned to ride motorcycles well by chasing jackrabbits in the
desert area near Sierra Vista. |
Somewhere in here the battalion had
a readiness test to see how quick we could be ready to move out to a
port for shipment overseas. Our company was ready 2 days early I
guess due to all the moves we had already done. A sister company
failed completely. The battalion required a lot of our people to
go over an assist them to get ready for a make up test. We tried
to help but the other company gave their people time off while our
people worked on their stuff. Our captain went to the battalion CO
but was told to get lost. He then went to the IG and got some
results. We did not mind helping some but to do it all while they
got OUR time off was too much. I hope that did not put a dent in
his career. I thought he was a good man. I hope I find his
name. All good things must end I
guess. I had seriously considered staying in the army as I really
enjoyed the life but the special court martial I received at the end of
my obligation led me to think that my career would be hampered so I just
got out and went back to Brooklyn. This was February 1965. |
In New York I went back to work for the
A&P while I attended truck drivers school. I had the intention
of driving trucks over the road. I then took a few driving jobs
until the Post Office put me to work for them in April 1966.
One
of my army buddies called me from Michigan and told me he and his family
was moving to Arizona. I gave my notice and, in March 1967, I
packed all I owned into my MGB and hauled butt to meet him in
Indiana. It took me one day to get to the meet and 6 more days to travel the rest of the way together and we arrived in
Sierra Vista on the 25th. I checked in with the Post Office but
they were not hiring so I got a job at Libby Army Airfield as a ground
equipment mechanic.
I was there for 6 months & went back to
work for the Post Office. I got into
motorcycles in a big way. I really loved to go
toollie hopping. I did some racing too. My
racing number was 596.
A
couple of pics from the early 70s BF (before fat)
With 360 Yamaha in racing days
(notice number)
One of the hazards of toollie
hopping
In 1969 Yamaha released
it's first 4 stroke motorcycle during a truck
strike. The Yamaha dealer asked me to go to
California with him to pick up some bikes with his truck
& trailer. When we returned I was helping him
put together the bikes. The new 650 4 stroke had a
serial number of 000596! I bought it! The
following year I rode it to New York. Good
ride. On the way back I had to replace the rear
sprocket in Ohio and the upper rod bearings
disintegrated at Elk City, Oklahoma. The
motorcycle shop there allowed me to pack the bike in a
wood box for shipment to AZ. I called my bank
& they would send some money the following
day. I obtained materials from the lumber yard
with a promise to pay the next day and got a motel under
the same conditions. I will always have a soft
spot in my heart for
Okies.
|
In 1973 I got married & had 2
boys. 15 years in Sierra Vista then a promotion to Payson in the
central mountains. Out of the desert. I also got divorced at
this time.
About 1975
In 1991 I visited my mom in New Jersey. My brother and I found our
old uniforms that she kept. The way they were talking about the
casualties we will suffer in the upcoming Gulf War, we figured we better
try on the uniforms in case they ran out of people to draft and came
after us. That is where this picture came from.
In 1998, at the age of 55, I retired & am now
sitting here getting fat. I spend my time cruising when I can
afford it & visiting and playing with my 3 grand daughters and
playing with computers.
I think I will continue to add to this
missive as I recall other events.
|
|
