COL FUDD

The Battle Group Commander, Colonel Fudd, had been one of the youngest and best battalion commanders in Europe some 15 years earlier in World War II. Unfortunately, in the intervening years he seemed to have forgotten much of what had made him so good. He seemed genuinely confused by much of what went on in his command.

Colonel Fudd was inspecting D Company in the field one day when he noticed that the mortars used aiming stakes painted with alternating red and white stripes. Almost everything that goes to the field in the Army is painted olive green, a natural camouflage color. Aiming stakes, though, have to be easily seen through the site by the mortar gunner, and have to stand out from the background. Fudd asked me what the stakes were, and, upon being told that they were aiming stakes, ordered them to be painted olive green. If D Company had complied with that order they would probably still be looking for the aiming stakes they set out the next time they went to the field.

There were lots of advantages to being stationed on Okinawa. For one thing, living was cheap and the lieutenants, who weren’t paid all that much, could live pretty high on the hog. For another, Okinawa is centrally located within a short flight of other Pacific countries, such as Japan (Okinawa is now part of Japan), Taiwan, Hong Kong and the Philippines.

Colonel Fudd was a friend of the Air Force wing commander at Naha, who "owned" cargo aircraft which could fly to all these places. Actually, it was fairly easy to get to any of them on regular flights, except Hong Kong, which wasn’t on the normal cargo circuit. The wing commander had set up a flight to Hong Kong every month for personnel of his wing, and his Army colonel friend asked him to provide just two seats on the airplane for a few of the two thousand officers and men of his unit. After some delay, the wing commander agreed.

There is an old tradition in the Army of taking care of the troops. Officers always eat last, for example, ensuring that all the soldiers get food before they take any. This appeared to be one of the things Colonel Fudd had forgotten. He and his wife took the first flight to Hong Kong. It was later reported that they showed up for the return flight with a grand piano, which the airplane could not take. What happened to the piano is still the subject of a great deal of speculation thirty some years later.

Following the colonel, one of the two lieutenant colonels went, then the majors, and eventually the senior captains. It would take years to get down to the lieutenants, and, in fact, could never get to them because new majors and captains would be transferred in. I never thought for a moment about taking that flight.

One day Ceda told me that I should get a Hong Kong visa. I asked why and she said, "Never mind why, but I think we should have one." I had learned to trust her judgement so I set about to obtain a visa for Hong Kong. It wasn’t difficult but involved a lot of bureaucratic form filing that I found annoying. I questioned the need for going through this several times and Ceda told me to tough it out.

Once I got the visa she told me to notify the Battle Group adjutant that I had one. I did, and the adjutant was perplexed. I admitted not understanding either.

The next month the adjutant called me and asked if we could go to Hong Kong on the flight leaving in just a few days. Yes we could!! I called Ceda to tell her the news and asked her how she knew this would happen. She said she knew that the next two most senior officers were not interested in going and that no one beyond them had gotten a Hong Kong visa. She didn’t want me talking about it because, apparently, the rest of the captains were blissfully unaware that they were about to have a chance to go. The adjutant had probably called all the captains without finding anyone who would or could take the flight.

When Colonel Fudd found out who was going to Hong Kong he was quite surprised. He sent for me to talk to me before we left. It is pretty unusual for the colonel to send for one of the fifty or so lieutenants, so I was justifiably apprehensive, sort of like being called to the principal’s office. You can think of about 20 reasons why you’re in trouble, and don’t know which one it is.

After asking how I had gotten on the flight, as if it were my fault that the "more deserving" captains weren’t going, Fudd told me he needed me to take care of something for him in Hong Kong. I immediately sensed that I was going to be shipping a grand piano. Instead, it was only an old watch that Fudd wanted cleaned and repaired. He apparently didn’t trust the PX watch repair shop with this watch that he said was an antique that had belonged to his mother. I took it with me to Hong Kong.

In Hong Kong, we spent a lot of time shopping since Ceda had recently lost most of her clothes in a fire. In between tailor shops, I took the watch to the classiest looking watch shop we had seen there. The repairman took one look at it and told me to throw it away, it was worthless. It surely wasn’t worth what it would cost to fix it, he said. None of that mattered to me; I had my orders. "Just fix it," I said. Before returning at the end of the week, I picked up the watch, paid the bill and got a receipt.

Back on Okinawa, I took the cleaned and repaired watch to the colonel. Though it had no watchband, it had been put into one of those elongated glassine bags that are often used by watch repair shops. Since there was no band, the watch dropped to the bottom of the long bag which was then wrapped around it four or five times.

When I gave it to the colonel I told him the cost, got his money and was turning to leave when I saw Fudd take the bag by the wrong end, which allowed the bag to quickly unroll and hurl the watch out. The watch hit the floor and broke into a million pieces. I knew what was coming next and I had sped up my departure to get out the door before Fudd could react. As soon as I got out the door I turned the corner to disappear from view.

It worked. A few seconds later I heard the Fudd shouting, "Sergeant Major!!"

As soon as I could reasonably pass by the colonel’s door again I walked by and, out of the corner of my eye I saw the Sergeant Major and the colonel on their hands and knees picking up pieces of watch. I quickly returned to the company to tell everyone the story.

Colonel Fudd and Sergeant Major Flynn were not well regarded by the lieutenants in the Battle Group. The colonel for all the reasons already explained, plus his small speech defect. He had trouble saying Rs. Normally that wouldn’t have been a big deal, but, in this case, it was the source of a great deal of merriment.

The 503rd Parachute Infantry Regiment, the original iteration of the Battle Group, had been the heroic unit that jumped onto the island of Corregidor and saved the remaining American and Filipino garrison there in World War II. As a result, the unit called itself "the Rock," after Corregidor. Well aware of the pride the soldiers took in this heritage, Colonel Fudd took every opportunity to remind them of it, always addressing them as "Twoopers of the Wock." Laughter bubbled up throughout the ranks every time he said it. The lieutenants were unable to counsel their soldiers about laughing at the colonel, since they had obviously been laughing, too.

The Sergeant Major was a different story. He was actually a very effective man for his position: respected by all the enlisted men and most of the officers of the Battle Group. But he had a problem with lieutenants.

Supergrade NCOs are in a sort of no man’s land. They are still NCOs but their special rank and position earns them unusual respect from officers. This is well and good, unless it goes to their heads. As long as they realize that it is their rank and position that the officers are respecting, they’ll get along great. SGM Flynn had lost sight of that.

To make matters worse, he had at one time been an officer himself. As he told the story, when his company in Korea was unable to take an objective ("When none of the officers could take the hill..."), the regimental commander had promoted him to captain and told him to take it, which he did. After the war he reverted to enlisted rank. This had a lasting effect on his ability to kowtow to officers, especially young lieutenants. He had an unfortunate habit of lecturing lieutenants when a different tone of voice might have been effective.

I myself had had several run-ins with Flynn, and had advised him on more than one occasion to remember that he wasn’t a captain anymore. I knew others had had similar experiences.

All of the lieutenants were delighted with the mental image of two of their heroes, Fudd and Flynn, on their hands and knees picking up watch pieces. Especially since they knew that when Fudd, or, more likely, Flynn, took the watch to the repair shop, he would be told that it was worthless.