Blackie meets the Phantom & Gets A Bath 

Days and nights, one blending into another. So far I have far more days left in country than I've spent. Tonight I have the next thing to having a day off, standby. Standby is when your not assigned to a post for the evening, yet you can't get drunk either. You are the person who goes out if anything happens or if someone gets sick. Sort of the maid of honor at a wedding. All fluff and stuff, yet someone else is going to be getting all the real attention. Oh well, could be worse, you could have Kilo 15 and have to put up with Tiger Troop all night.

Hang around the kennels for a while playing with Blackie, then back to the hooch to see what's going on there. Can't join in on the drinking party with the others who are off, at least not the way you would like to. Play a few hands of poker here and there. Here you are, all geared up as if you were going out, and nothing to do. Boring. Hated being the standby person. Most evenings that I had this, I would take Blackie out and just walk the perimeter, or go over to the supply area and hang out. Unknown to me however, tonight was going to be different.

The radio sounds off, "K-9 standby to kennel area!!" Arriving I find a jeep waiting there. It seems like Tiger 2, Tiger flight's 2nd in command, thought he saw some movement around a small pond by the flightline. After his people not finding anything, he wants a Sentry Dog Unit to check it out. Now one has to know Tiger 2 to appreciate this situation fully. He calls in shadows across the moon, lights on the horizon, and has bats in the belfry. Ever see someone who has reached the Peter Principal? That is, been promoted up to their level of fullest incompetence. The nicest thing we can say about him is that the wheel is turning, but the hamster is dead. I look at the Sergeant and give him a, "Tiger 2"??, look. He nods and lets me know that it's being requested from higher up and to please play along with the seriousness of the situation. All right I say, lets go get Blackie. Blackie has spotted me coming and is eager to see me. "Oh boy, we get to go out, I get to go out, can I kill something tonight?? Put on my leash and muzzle, open the door, here we go! OUT, OUT, OUT!!!"

I put Blackie on the duce and a half and climb aboard. We're driving to who knows where following "Tigee 2" and his 2 tiger flight brown nose tag alongs. After about 10 minutes we stop and I look around. We are on the edge of a small pond surrounded by brush. There has to be 5 jeeps there, parked with their lights on, illuminating the area. Surrounding this is anywhere from 10 to 15 SP's. All of them armed and watching the brush and pond. I find out that "Tigee-2" thought he saw some movement in the brush and wants me to take Blackie down there and check things out. The pond is about a quarter of an acre in size, and the waist to shoulder high brush extends back from it 10 to 15 feet deep in spots. Standing on the bed of the duce and a half I survey the area and decide how I want to work this situation.

I had brought along a 20 foot training leash, not knowing what to expect, and I snap this onto Blackie's collar. I tell "Tiger-2" to move his troops back in that I may be letting out all 20 feet of leash. Of course by now, this situation is up to an hour old. They have had who knows how many people walking around down there, and the area is just swarming with their scents. Some old, some new. We're by this pond, which I find out later has had several hundred gallons of JP-4 poured over it, to keep the mosquito population down. Which has also, in the Vietnam summer sun, backed itself to a hard crust. So mixed with all the human scents, there is the overwhelming smell of JP-4. And we're supposed to find the needle in the haystack in this mess.

Putting Blackie on guard with a "Watch them!" We begin to cover the area in a clockwise manner. I doubt if Blackie can smell anything but JP-4 right now but he puts up a good show anyway. Problem is that he wants to go and eat SP's for his midnight snack more than this looking in the bushes nonsense. I keep him on the task at hand, remembering that the Sergeant said for us to play along, but I don't exactly discourage him either. Figured we might as well mess with someone other than the marines. Blackie feels that way also, after all the SP's seem to smell better than the marines, but act just as goofy when he charges them. After two sweeps around the pond however, it is becoming apparent that the old shadows across the moon were responsible for "Tigee 2's" seeing spooks in the bushes, and a few of the SP's were even starting to comment thusly. "Tigee 2" however is certain that the bogie man is in here and we're just missing him. He tells me to walk out on the crust covering the pond and search from there outwards.

I look at him as if he really doesn't realize that he is missing some vital parts in his head, like the normal ration of brain cells. Sarg's wish for me to play along with this clown is growing thinner by the minute. Yet after receiving assurances that the crust will support our weight, I reluctantly step out. It's like walking on a blanket that has been spread over the water. Firm on top, yet every step sends ripples undulating underneath you. I compare it to standing on a water bed. Blackie however is looking at me with the same look I gave "Tigee 2" when he told us to go do this. He's convinced I've lost it this time for sure. I'm starting to agree with him in that I can barely keep my footing as we move around the edge of the pond.

Slippery, treacherous, and bad smelling is how I would describe it. Just as I'm thinking that this isn't so bad, the inevitable happens. The firm crust I was standing on lets go, and I am now armpit deep in black and smelly muck. Blackie turns to look back at me and is stopped in mid stride. I'm getting this look like, "What happened to the lower part of your body?" from him. I tell him to "STAY!" but it's too late. He has started back towards me and now the area under him lets go also. We manage to wrest out way out, but him and I are both covered with an oily slime from the neck down. "Tigee 2" wisely does not argue with us when I state that there is no one in the bushes, and if tiger flight doesn't believe me, they can go and walk the *()&*%^*)&* pond till hell freezes over for themselves.

Blackie meanwhile has this look on his face like he wants to kill something, and he does not care who at this point. I have some suggestions to give him in that respect. I reach back to get his muzzle for the ride back to the kennels, only to discover that there is a big clump of oily guck hanging in it. Saying screw it, I put him on the back of the duce and a half and we ride back the way we are. Neither one of us in the best of moods. All of our gear, from my underwear to his leash is ruined. And he looks like he received a bad paint job. "Tiger 2" stays behind, still convinced that the bogeyman is amuck and he's angry that no one wants to co-operate with his delusions. Back at the kennels there is a further surprise in store for me. I can't put Blackie away covered in oil like that. He'll do a dog thing and in trying to lick it off, will ingest it and get sick, or worse. So here I am, stripped down to my shorts, with the hose and a bucket of hot soapy water, giving him a bath. If looks could kill, I'd be very dead now. He's becoming less amused by the situation as this goes on. But he looks so funny, covered with this black yuck, soap bubbles all over him, and me squirting him down with the hose. I'm lucky he let me live through it all.

Getting him finally cleaned up I call up tiger flight and have them send a jeep over to run me back to the hooch so I can clean up. They start to balk at this and I remind them that I was the person who went out for "Tiger 2" and if they want any of us to do these little games for them again, they'd better get that *(^^%#$^& jeep over here for me. Took them the better part of a half hour but now here I am, back at the hooch and guess what? There is no hot water to be had in the entire complex. Used the better part of an entire bar of soap getting that guck off me using cold water, not an experience I want to repeat.

The following day I went over to supply to replace my gear. The guy there started to chisel me for everything. When we got to the gas mask, I told him to stick his face in it and inhale. Now most of these items I had hosed out and left out to dry overnight, so they didn't look too bad. He made one sniff and that settled everything. The only nice thing positive to say of the adventure is that Blackie and I made out getting all new stuff because of it. None of us went out for another "Tiger 2" adventure again however.