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Fort Polk, 1967By Roy Gilbert
Not all of my experiences were bad ones, nor were all of the people I met while in the Army total assholes - just most of them. At the time, I entered the military, I was a frightened, confused young man and as of my separation on May 1, 1969, I was even more so. To this day a great deal of that confusion remains with me and in a very real sense prevents me from obtaining and holding gainful employment, and isolates me from the gay world and much of society. Even now, I sometimes find it difficult to put into words the impressions and emotions I experienced at that time. Those I associated with contributed as much as the Army experiences did to my current state of living. Most of the men, with whom I lived, trained and worked were assholes who fortunately have become dimmed in memory. Those who served with me and do remember me will most likely remember me as a person with low intelligence, who bummed cigarettes, wore perpetually wrinkled fatigues. Someone with whom they would definitely not wish to go into battle. As previously mentioned, exposure to Agent Orange resulted in my sexual dysfunction. Some other illnesses I attribute to exposure are lung disease, nervousness, neurological damage, panic attacks, depression, and broken, rotten teeth. After basic I was assigned for two months to Ft. Rucker, Alabama and trained as an aviation mechanic. My platoon squad leader was a gung-ho national guardsman whose last name was Zimmerman. In short, I hated him, and he hated me. Although I do not now feel hate, I do not remember Zimmerman with kindness because of his domineering nature and because of a GI shower that he instructed the rest of the men to give me. That incident will remain with me for the rest of my life, as will the humiliation that I felt at that time. It was at this duty station that I had my only gay experience. I was more than slightly attracted to the man and the sexual desire was still fresh with me, so I did not have trouble in achieving and maintaining an erection; that is one of the few happy experiences that remain with me from the Army. Upon completing AIT, I was then assigned to Ft. Stewart, Georgia. Although I have no memory of the installation, my orders state that I was there for seven days. Neither the Army nor the Department of Veterans Affairs can or will account for those seven missing days. Hunter Army Airfield, on the outskirts of Savanna, with its mild days, warm nights, Spanish moss and full Southern flavor followed Ft. Stewart. While I was eating lunch in the mess hall at Hunter one afternoon, Donald, a true red-blooded all-American male hunk, came into my life by way of a passing introduction. Unfortunately, my overriding fear of being discovered prevented me from feeling completely at ease with him. The two of us were separated soon after arriving in Vietnam, and I often reflect on how things might have been had circumstances been different. I arrived in-country on October 7, 1968. After intake, briefing and orientation at Cameroon Bay, I traveled by air to Vung Tai and was assigned to the 54th Utility Airplane Company, 255th Trans. Det (Acft Rep), call sign Big Daddy Vung Tai. Thus began the final active duty portion of my two-year Army obligation. I was assigned to work as a crewmember on light transport fixed-wing aircraft and a few months later transferred to work in the mess hall. Because of another's incompetence, I sustained a very nasty cut to my left forefinger.
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1967 was not a good year for "wine and roses," nor were any years that followed. As a gay person, my military experience was not just difficult, it was traumatic. I managed to repress the physical homosexual reactions through a form of mental self-aversion, though the term was unknown to me at the time. Exposure to Agent Orange and other herbicides over a period of two years, while stationed with the 255th Transportation Detachment in Vietnam, resulted in sexual impotence. My one and only homosexual experience consisted of an older man having oral sex with me.