An LA Cop. John Bowermaster
An LA Cop
From The Jungles Of Vietnam To The Streets Of Hollywood
John Bowermaster
Copyright © 2020 John Bowermaster
All rights reserved
First Edition
Fulton Books, Inc.
Meadville, PA
Published by Fulton Books 2020
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places are the product of the author’s imagination, and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
“The mind of man can imagine nothing which has not really existed.”
Edgar Allan Poe
ISBN 978-1-64654-228-4 (paperback)
ISBN 978-1-64654-229-1 (digital)
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Murders in the Hollywood Hills
This book is dedicated to my wife, Nancy, to my partners on the streets of Los Angeles, and to my brothers born in combat in Vietnam, Arlie Griffus, Cecil Leak, Bill McMichael, Bruce Walker, Robert Pendley, KIA, December 11, 1968, and Jerry Martin KIA, April 5, 1969.
Acknowledgement
The song “Hooray for Hollywood”
1937 By Richard A. Whiting
Lyrics by Johnny Mercer
On page number 279
Vietnam, August 1968
August 2, 1968, Ed Bowes’s first day in the country. Delta Company assigned him to First Squad, First Platoon in the Twenty-Fifth Infantry’s Second Battalion, Twenty-Seventh Regiment, called the Wolfhounds. Based at Firebase Crockett, twenty miles west of Cu Chi, the home of the Twenty-Fifth Infantry Division’s headquarters.
Ed didn’t know the history of his unit. They activated the Wolfhounds in 1901, during the Philippine-American War. Their insignia was a black pin with the head of a Russian Wolfhound dog on it, colored in gold. Below the dog were the Latin words, “Nec Aspera Terrent,” meaning “No Fear on Earth.”
The division fought in the Pacific theater during WWII, later in the Korean War. Now they were in Vietnam. Ed caught a chopper from Cu Chi to Firebase Crockett that morning. First Platoon was getting ready to go on patrol when his chopper landed at Crockett.
Delta’s area of operation was northwest of Cu Chi, along the Cambodian border, a place called the Angel’s Wing. Delta Company was engaged with the VC in Tay Ninh City. Ed and two men on the chopper were replacements for men killed during the fighting in Tay Ninh.
Ed stepped off the chopper at Crockett. Sergeant Johnson, the leader of first squad, was waiting for him at the chopper pad. “Bowes?”
“Yes.”
“Follow me.”
Sergeant Johnson instructed the other two men to report to Second Platoon. He pointed to a sergeant standing by another bunker. Sergeant Johnson said, “Follow me to the bunker line.”
Sergeant Johnson pointed at an M-60 machine gun leaning against a sandbag bunker. He told Ed, “Now you’re a machine gunner.”
Ed looked at the gun lying next to an ammo can and utility belt with a couple of canteens. There was a Colt .45-caliber semiautomatic hooked to the belt.
Sergeant Johnson told Ed, “Two men are your ammo bearers. They each carry four hundred rounds for your gun. They’ll be near you on patrol. They’re around here somewhere. You’ll meet them later. Get a couple belts of ammo for your gun from that ammo can on the bunker. Get saddled up. Fill your canteen. I see you only have one canteen on your utility belt. Take that .45 auto and its ammo and one of those canteens off Cliff’s equipment belt. Put them on your belt. They killed Cliff in Tay Ninh—he won’t need them anymore. I’ve checked the M-60, it’s in good working order. There’s an extra gun barrel lying with Cliff’s gear and canteens on the bunker. When we get back off patrol, grab it, keep it handy at your bunker. During a ground attack, the barrel on an M-60 gets red-hot. You’ll need the spare barrel to replace the hot one.”
Ed began to realized Vietnam wasn’t just a place on the news. This place was real, and people were dying.
Sergeant Johnson assigned the dead man’s M-60, his canteen, and equipment to Ed, giving no further thought or explanation other than Cliff wouldn’t need them anymore.
Ed wondered what kind of story Cliff’s equipment could tell. He noticed there was no emotion in Sergeant Johnson’s voice when he talked about Cliff or his equipment. Ed thought, People get killed here and everyone acts like it’s just another day.
Sergeant Johnson interrupted Ed’s thoughts. “Don’t forget that extra canteen. It gets hot out there, you’ll go through water fast. You’ll be glad you have it.”
The platoon trudged through rice paddies in knee-deep mud and water, it was early afternoon. Ed polished off his first canteen and was making a serious dent in the second one. He hoped Cliff’s other canteen was still lying on the bunker when and if he got back. If it was, he planned on making room for the third canteen on his utility belt. With the incredible heat and humidity, carrying that heavy machine gun, that was getting heavier with every passing step. He was afraid he was going die from heat exhaustion, his first day in the field.
He wondered what poor bastard would get stuck carrying his M-60 if he died. Was Cliff new in the field too? Did he die his first day in the field because he only carried two canteens? Ed concluded this was at least a three-canteen country!
Later that day, Ed changed his mind about dying. Now he was afraid he wouldn’t die from exhaustion and would have to endure the miserable heat and humidity. He thought if Vietnam wasn’t hell on earth, it was second, third, and fourth place!
The column stepped out of the rice paddy onto dry ground. He thought at last he could walk without fighting every step in the mud and water. A few minutes later, the column stopped. The man on point motioned the platoon lieutenant to his location.
Someone