Bill Curwick was born in 1950, the eldest of Winifred and James Curwick’s five children. He graduated from Marshall High School in 1968 and attended college a year before enlisting in the Army and training as a combat engineer. He received deployment orders for Vietnam in November 1970 and traveled to Oakland for his overseas flight. Bill described that flight and their arrival.

“It was a commercial aircraft with only military on it. We flew to Cam Rahn Bay where we circled about an hour and a half because it was under mortar and rocket attack. The pilot said, ‘Well, guys, welcome to Vietnam. We’re going to circle here for a while. (Bill laughed) If you look out your windows, you can see the explosions.’ We waited until that fireworks ended and landed. Oh, God, the heat knocked you off your feet. It was so hot, muggy, and stinky!”

Bill was unable to sleep that night.

“I didn’t sleep because I was thinking about the next in-coming mortar rounds and where am I going? In the morning we were in formation and they divided us by our assignments. I was assigned to the 26th Engineer Battalion, 23rd Infantry Division in Chu Lai.”

The convoy north to Chu Lai involved another startling introduction to Vietnam.

“I was in a Jeep with another “newbie,” a driver, and a shotgun (gunner) for the driver. My companion and I had to relieve ourselves, so they pulled over. We got out and were standing there when I heard someone in the Jeep say, ‘Don’t move.’ I was concerned we might be near a booby-trap. He warned us (Bill chuckled) because there was a hooded cobra (large poisonous snake) standing up nearby. He wasn’t happy we were close to him. The guy with the shotgun came and blew it away. We got back in that Jeep, but I didn’t want to stop again after that.” (Bill laughed)

Bill and the other “newbies” had familiarization training at Chu Lai.

“They put us through a two-week Vietnam training. They had a trail through dense brush set up with numerous (non-lethal) booby traps to experience how many ways you could get killed. I took my squad through without triggering any. The trainers said, ‘That has never happened.’ I was on one end of the squad and I picked the guy who volunteered me for it, Terry Dolan, to be at the other end. We got everybody through.”

Bill pulled guard duty during this training. That led to another startling introduction to Vietnam.

“Before I went to Company D they put me on night guard duty. This was the rainy season, so I’m in my poncho. This dog crawled up in my lap. I’m sitting there petting it. It wasn’t until I stuck my head inside my poncho to light a cigarette that I saw the dog was the biggest rat I’d ever seen. (Bill laughed) I suppose it was just looking for a warm, comfortable, dry spot. They may find that rat on the moon, I kicked it so hard.” (Bill chuckled)

The 36th Engineer Battalion assigned Bill to Company D. He described his new home.

“Our company area had hootches, plywood buildings with metal roofs. They were rustic, but comfortable. You had a roof over your head and the sides were screened, unless you dropped the shutters. We were right on the ocean, so you usually had a nice breeze. There was a huge mess hall. Early on I went there to get supplies for the field and saw one wall stacked with boxes of Marshall Produce Dried Eggs. That was the last time I ate in the mess hall. (Bill chuckled) There was no way I was eating those eggs.”

Bill’s platoon had a communal shower facility and “four-holer” latrines that provided extra duty for the newbies.

“Underneath the holes were half of a 55-gallon drum, into which all the waste dropped. Every day someone had to pull those, load them on a truck, take them up the hill, fill them with diesel, top them off with gas, and stir every once and a while. It was not the best duty in the world. You quickly learned to stand upwind. I only did it twice. (Bill chuckled) Twice was enough. You used a U-shaped fence post through the handles so two guys could lift and put them on a deuce and a half. Short guys sometimes got stuff spilled their direction. (Bill laughed) You always knew when it happened because you’d hear them screaming all over camp. That was nasty duty and smelled terrible, but it was a job that had to be done.”

Bill’s first combat engineer task was nearly his last.

“My company did a mine sweep during my first week. They filled a 5-ton dump truck with sand and then sand-bagged everything else. I sat on the hood, or the cowling, with the steering wheel between my legs and backed it up the road, operating the pedals backwards. The road wasn’t mined, but a mine was right next to the road. I had gotten off the road. When I turned the wheel to get back on the road, my front wheel hit the mine. It detonated and blew off the front end of my truck. I was launched. (Bill laughed) I don’t remember much, but they said I made pretty good height and landed in a rice paddy. So, it was a soft landing. I wasn’t hurt at all. The sand-bagging saved my butt. That was a “Welcome to Vietnam” (Bill chuckled) experience.

©2025 William D. Palmer.