1st Battalion 22nd Infantry Cold War Warrior Page 1

When I graduated high school, there were only 648 or so people drafted (1973). I have the actual number somewhere...
and they were only taking people with draft numbers under 100. I can't remember, but I think I had a 101 number.
It is going to cost me money to get a copy of my draft card, which I think is BS, but I still want a copy to prove that I at least had one.
I think I was one of the last, having a May 16 birthday.

My crew had just finished hell boot camp in Fort Dix, NJ. We were part of the F-1-3 Training Brigade. "F" Troop it was called
after the Television show with the same name with Ken Barry, Forest Tucker and Larry Storch. It was commanded by Captain Bernard Palmer.
He had a funky wooden desk that looked like a cavalry fort. Anyway, we suffered the fall/winter conditions getting through that s*** hole.
I remember that we were the beginning of the all volunteer Army and the Drill Instructors still had Vietnam mentalities.
One DI who was the previous DI of the cycle just couldn't understand that beating the hell out of trainees was no longer tolerated.
He disappeared somewhere along the line. They had the 5 major PT drills: run/dodge/jump, situps, the over head ladder, crab walk
and the 2-mile run. It was during that period of time that the nut cracker PT drill was phased out because of too many hernias. No wonder!
It was a worthless drill anyway. The cattle trucks would pick us up and take us to the training sites while it was still dark.
We would sleep on them standing up because we were just dead tired all the time. We would train and get back on the cattle trucks
and get back when it was dark. If you were lucky and didn't have guard duty that night you might have gotten some sleep.
I remember being a little older than the average trainee and was married, hence I had a wedding ring on. I remember doing the over head
ladder drill and ripping my hand open on the rusty ladders pinching the wedding ring. I happened to pull KP that evening and was in charge
of cleaning off the dinner trays with water. I got webspace infection in that open sore. The next day we had a live fire course
and we had to clean our weapons. I was running a fever and my left hand and arm was swelling up like a balloon. It was getting twice the normal size
and I was dizzy, but the Drill Instructor wouldn't let me go to the aid station until my weapon was cleaned and passed inspection.
By the time I got it clean enough I was ready to pass out. When I finally got to the aid station, the Doctor asked, "Where the hell were you?"
"If you would have let that swelling get any higher it would have killed you. I was sent to the hospital where they tried to deaden the hand
but failed misserably. They cut into it and I felt everything. I came off the gurney like a dead body suddenly coming alive in a spook movie.
They drained it and put like three feet of 1/4" cloth packing inside to help it drain. When I got to the room, I had a really good looking
Second Louie Nurse try to put an IV in my infected arm. After 4-5 attempts, she asked a 1st Louie to help and she took 2 tries in the other arm,
but got it in. I had to leave the hospital early so I didn't get recycled.

Left: Captain Bernard Palmer

CO of "F Troop"

His wooden addition to his desk
resembled an old frontier cavalry fort.

Photo from the Fort Dix newspaper
The Post October 24, 1975

Above: Terry Kotschwar on the left,
and Kenny Davidshofer on the right,
"caught in the act"

We then went to Fort Polk, LA and Disease Ville. That was the town that was closest to the training base and where all the hookers were,
so I am told. We froze our buns off in NJ and almost died from the humidity in LA. What a change. DI Harisumi always told us to watch out
for Jake the Snake in our two man fighting parapets when we would dive into them. I don't know if he was referring to the water moccasins
or other critters. There were supposed to be alligators around the place, but we never saw any. We had a specialty when we got the chance
to use our money. We bought every bag of chocolate chip cookies we could find. Anthony Thomas, my African American brother liked
chocolate chip cookies and red headed women. Little Retzer was 5' 5" tall and 100 pounds dripping wet with rocks in his pocket if he was an ounce.
He had voluntered to join the 82 Airborne. Now that is guts for a little man. I never heard if he made it. Another troop, who looked exactly
like Howdie Doodie (possible Alfred E. Neuman) claimed that he never made a bed in his life. He always had the maid do it.
Apparently his daddy thought the Army would make a man out of him. I don't think it took very well. Wooden barracks public toilets
and windows that were always open to help curb meningitis. Not to mention the preverbial shaving cream in the hand and the tickling of the ears
when you were asleep. Jack Walter Fessler was Kenneth John Davidshofer and my favorite target. We went through basic, AIT
and our duty station together for 4-years. I have watched their children grow and marry. We still are the best of friends even today.
We went through AIT and by December, 1975 we were finally given leave for Christmas. I hadn't seen my pregnant wife for over two months
and the first thing I did when I got home was collapse on the bed and slept for like two days. We shipped out to our duty stations.
Mine and several others was Fort Carson, Colorado and the 4th Infantry (Mechanized) Division.

Jack Fessler - the butt of many of our practical jokes - he hated us for it, but deserved it.
He still deserves it - but we still love him today.

The "Dirty Dozen" AIT Fort Polk, LA 1975
Terry Kotschwar is back row, third from left

During the initial beginning, prior to the beginning or the re-emergence of 1/22, I think it was in February, 1976 we arrived at Peterson AFB
aka Pete Field (Colorado Springs). It was the 6th of February I remember because my first daughter was born on 7 February, 1976
and I was not able to get off to see her birth.

We were housed like we were in basic and AIT in the Mule Barns on Carson. Everyone was looking for a home. We tried to stay together
and finally were given orders for the 1/12th Infantry. We didn't get put directly into the 1/22. They were still forming the officers and NCO's
from all over preparing for our arrival. I remember that the day I arrived, I was pulled into the CO's office and asked if I wanted to study
for the Expert Infantryman's Badge (EIB). Hell, I had no idea what they were talking about, but I said yeah because they told me if I passed it
they would give me a week off to see my daughter and wife. I studied it and studied it. My wife arrived and I was still studing it.
She said I was keeping her up at night describing how to break down a M-60 machinegun in my sleep.

I remember that we had never made a range card for the 50-cal and a whole lot of other stuff, but I had the TM's so I read all I could.
I had to run the 2-mile run to qualify to even take the test, but I had just ran it in like 14+ in basic so it was a cinch. I can't believe the officers
that were coming out of the bushes and woodwork to try and qualify for the EIB.

We started out with the all cotton or cotton/mix uniforms which were solid green. We spent a lot of money starching those bastards
for guard inspections etc. We eventually evolved to a wash-n-wear which made us look really bad and unprofessional, but at least
you didn't have to starch them any more. I understand that the camo BDU's came out in November 1979 and I ETS'd in October '79
so I never got to wear them at Carson. Any items like jungle fatigues or boots that reminded the brass of Vietnam was verboten
and not allowed to be worn. We tried to dye the green jungle boots black to hide them so we could wear them in the field
and usually you could get away with it, but not always. Most of the brown nosers bought jump boots so they could polish them
and put Johnson's wax on the toes and heels so they would not have to pull guard duty. The #1 always got out of guard duty if his uniform
was strac and he answered all the questions during guard mount/inspection. I remember having so much starch in my pants
you had to lay down to put them on and you did it with a couple of minutes to go before inspection. You NEVER sat down or you would get a crease.
What a pain. One POS always got the number 1 slot because he had a pair of patent leather jump boots. I remember borrowing a pair of boots
just before inspection, and mind you they were a size and a half small, so I could at least give that pansy ass a run for his money.
I got the #1 spot and he was PISSED. I just smiled and walked away.

Barry Burger was my first real First Shirt. He was a grizzley bear of a man and smoked like a train. He also was overweight.
They implemented the "Fat Boy" program where they weighed and caliphered you for the ideal soldier numbers. Barry didn't meet the grade.
He was never going to drop the needed pounds and was closing in on his retirement. He needed like 6-months to make it and the new policies
were going to do him in. I know he tried to make the Battalion runs and we tried to help him, but he was old school and just not in the mold
for the new Army image, I guess. I know that he wasn't with us long. I don't know what happened to him, but I think he might have never made
his 20-years. I really am guessing...
He was a great person and it is a shame he was treated like crap at the end of his career.

We practiced anti-rioting techniques all the time. Sometimes we would play the parts of the protesters and shoot
water fire extinguishers and throw crap at the other GI's as they did eschelon formations, trying to drive the "protesters"
out of a particular area.

The mechanics in Alpha Company were top notch, as were the others I suppose, but I only worked with those in A Company.
Kenny Davidshofer, Roger Hansen, Jeffrey G. Day, Rudy, Youngblood, James O. Henson and I did everything to keep the company running.
We had a method to keep all our tracks from being redlined and I understand that in today's Army we would get into touble doing what we did,
but then we aren't talking about current situations.

Brad Gillis was from Maine and had a thick Maine accent when he spoke. He was a good natured guy with a heart of gold.
He bought that damn white Willys Jeep either a '48 or '52 I can't remember which, but he would spend every spare hour working on it on the post.
The bearings were crap, the differential was crap and everything else but the lighter. Problem was he lost the lighter. He rebuilt the engine
in the parking lot of the Battalion because it was home and he had no where else to work on it. Every morning at PT there is sat...leaking in place.
I think he finally got it finished and from all retrospect it went back home with him to Maine. He certainly deserved a few miles with it
because it cost him a pretty penny to fix. A two ton truck would have been cheaper. Go Maine!

Brad Gillis ( A Company 1/22 Inf)
and his Willys Jeep

We made regular trips to 704th Maintenance to turn in and trade equipment and parts. They had a stock pile of turned in items that were returned to them
for one reason or another and we helped ourselves to what we needed. We didn't sell anything on the black market or stupid crap like that,
we used the items we got to keep our vehicles running. Sometimes we traded items to other units in return for parts or favors.
It all worked like clock work. We had a conex full of parts to include two complete jeeps, less the bodies. Universal joints, differentials,
and the one item that would fail any APC instantly. A neutral safety switch. I had more than a dozen of them rat holed at all times.
They were worth a track's weight in gold and hard to come by.

At one point in time the 1st Louie that was working with us asked about the conex. We told him that it must belong to the other unit
and we weren't sure what it was. The Lt., being a good young officer started to dig and ask questions and finally found out that the conex
didn't belong to the other unit. He asked us straight up, "...Do I want to know what is in that conex?" We told him, "No, sir...you don't!"
The Lt. asked if we had a key for the conex and we told him that we did. The Lt. never asked about the conex again.

Captain Sullivan was a good officer, but didn't like to come to the motor pool. I had been doing the TAMMS and eventually the PLL for a long time
so I knew what it took to pass the IG with outstanding ratings. A few days before the IG, the CO came to the motor pool and wanted to make sure
everything was up to par for the IG and asked if he needed to sign any paperwork. I told him that everything was taken care of. He still wanted
to see the books to check for himself. After looking at the logs and paperwork he stated matter of factly, "...you know I am concerned
that I haven't been to the motor pool for sometime and that is my fault. What worries me is that a young SP4 hoping to become Sergeant one day
has everybook up to date. What really boils my ass is I can't tell where my signature ends and yours starts." I just told him. "...everything is fine, sir.
We will do just fine." The CO left and I didn't hear another word not even a thank you for the Outstanding Rating from the IG.

Diploma awarded to
PFC Terry Kotschwar
Co. A 1st Bn, 22d Inf
after successfully completing
The Army Maintenance Management
Systems Course ( TAMMS ), 1976.

Jerry Busch, Company A 1/22 Infantry 1976
"Jerry Busch was a gruff talking big fella from Minnesota. If you have ever heard the former Governer from Minnesota and ex-Navy Seal
Jessie Ventura speak, that was exactly how Busch sounded. Perhaps they were related or something. Jerry was rough on the exterior,
but he was a good guy when he wanted to be. Otherwise, look out."

This is a picture of Sgt. James O. "Pops" Henson, my last motor sergeant at A Co., 1/22nd Inf. We are in the upper deck
of the Alpha Company Motor Pool. His back is against the west wall, to his left is the armors room, I sit to his front and right at the TAMMS
(The Army Maintenace Management System) desk and to my right is the PLL desk that I was also in charge of later in my career.
This picture was taken in 1979. I am not sure what happened to Pops, but he was a generous sothern gentleman with an infectious laugh
and was always smiling like he knew where the bodies were buried, but didn't feel the need to tell anyone until he felt it was necessary.
He was a really great guy and I will miss him dearly.