ISSUED

Jeep to Keep

Let it be said that the Army Reserve was not my first choice, but that is exactly where the fun began. My Air Force husband, stationed at Wright-Patterson AFB, received orders for Little Rock Air Force Base. I was off to the Little Rock area.

The only reserve unit with a vacancy was the 336th Ammunition Battalion. This unit had recently returned home, intact, from Vietnam. From my perspective, anything they wanted caused everyone to jump through hoops to make it happen. They were vocal about their excitement for Annual Training at Red River Army Depot in Texas (known to some as Summer Camp).

Soon after I became part of the unit admin section, with all things going well, I heard the Command Sergeant Major call out, “Seago, come into my office NOW!” My stomach whirled; I didn’t know what I had (or had not) done. He explained to me that an SP4 named V was in the mess hall singing so loudly that the officers’ call was being interrupted. “Your job is to fix it, NOW!”

The CSM told me to follow him. We walked briskly to the area from which a loud bass voice was belting out tunes. V was in his own world, singing and chopping, chopping and singing. The CSM turned to me and said, “Fix this! You are no longer in the admin section; you are in food service.” I thought what in the world is happening. But calmly, I asked V, “What is your Occupational Specialty?” He responded, “948 Cook.” I then said, “You must have read the job description for the Army Band. This is not it. So, on Army time, do your chopping quietly.”

He then said to me, “I am a cook at the VA hospital, and they allow me to sing anytime, anything.” I replied, “You’re in the Army today, so just sing in your head.”

I could not get transferred out of the food service section. This was my role now, as long as I was in the mess hall, V did not sing.

A few weekends later, the CSM called me into his office again. He said, “I have been interviewing members of the battalion about retention/reenlistment. The consensus was that the meals were not complete. Everyone wants pie with their meal.” I said, Pie…it is not on the 14-day menu. “He said his career depended on retention of unit members, and they want pie, just like at home. Seago, there will be pie,” he instructed.

Little did the CSM know that at the age of 8, I was a Camp Fire Girl. Our group took cooking lessons at Oklahoma Natural Gas Company in Tulsa. My assignment was pie crust and white sauce, the two most difficult tasks. Of course, this training was good for pies and SOS as well. I could never have dreamed that my Blue Bird Camp Fire Girls training class prepared me for the Army Reserve. So, I put those skills to use. None of the cooks in the Battalion were Camp Fire Girls, so there I was, churning out pies in the kitchen. Something seemed to be upside down and backward, oh well!

Meanwhile, Annual Training was fast approaching. During morning formation, the Battalion Commander called for volunteers to drive jeeps in the convoy to the Red River Army Depot. After the call, I volunteered to drive a jeep in the convoy to Texas. A jeep to drive AT LAST! That did not sit well with the commander. He said only E4S and E5S drive jeeps in convoy. As an E6, I was so close but so far away from my desire to become a jeep driver. Back to making pies.

But I was in for a surprise. The next reserve weekend, the commander reported that Seago would indeed drive a jeep. FINALLY!

It was usually about a 2 ½-hour drive from the Little Rock Finkbeiner Reserve Center to the Red River Army Depot in Hooks, Texas, about 163 miles one way. After 5 hours of driving, we arrived at the depot, having reached great speeds of 20-30 miles per hour. The Battalion Commander was waiting for our arrival. He specifically told me that the Jeep was mine to keep until our return to Finkbeiner. All maintenance required would be my responsibility. The jeep must always be fueled, and I was the sole driver. The jeep was to be secured at all times when not in use.

In my wildest imagination, I could not have imagined what came next. While we were preparing lunch, the Post Commander came into the mess hall. He said that he wanted to meet with the Food Service Sergeant in charge. I reported to him, and he said, “Food Service on the Post is now yours.”

We were to share food service for 2 weeks along with another battalion. But when they drove to pick up rations, they met up with friends and offloaded all the meat to them. When they arrived back at Post, they received only partial rations. An investigation began, and the entire other battalion was sent packing. We were now Post Food Service! My first remote summer camp and my Admin 71L would not help me now. My Jeep to keep was now like a fly on an ant.

I called all my cooks together and told them the score. I also added that, if there was no singing and just hard work, when we returned to Little Rock, I would recommend everyone for promotion. Somehow, I would step aside.

The highlight of our food service meals was the Ice cream bar, despite my best efforts when making pies. When I drove to pick up replacement rations, I asked for ice cream and all the toppings. This was indeed available, so we set to work creating an extensive ice cream bar.

What a hit, unit members were working to relink ammo, so freezing-cold ice cream in smoldering Hooks, Texas, was more than welcome. No mention was made of pie.

As we were cleaning the mess hall, getting ready for departure, the post food service officer came to me with a letter of commendation for our rescue of Food Service for the Post. I thanked him and said, “You are a few letters short; each of my cooks deserves a letter”. He agreed, and each cook received a letter that was placed in their promotion packet.

I still had to drive the Jeep back to Little Rock, and the 5-hour drive gave me time to think about the words of wisdom that I was given by SGMS when I first joined the Army Reserve. Why didn’t I listen then! Here are those words of advice:

1. NEVER ever volunteer for the unknown. Find out what the mission requirements are.
2. Apply for any and all educational opportunities, including correspondence courses.
3. Work hard as a mentor for your section, battalion, and division.

For the next part of my 20 years in the Army/Army Reserve, I never volunteered for the unknown again. Convoys on the highway are now to be appreciated and somewhat understood. Years later, I bought myself a shiny black Jeep with power steering, an auto transmission, and air conditioning. This was indeed my real jeep to keep.