Thomas C. Utts
         Captain, United States Air Force (Retired)
 
 
 

   We All Come From Somewhere

     1939, Omaha, Nebraska
   The same year WWII started in Europe, I was born. Not sure if those two events
    were related, but I was raised on Hollywood's view of military life. My father was
    a truck driver who tired to join the Marines when the war stated, but a chronic bad
    back made him 4F. For the rest of his life he operated a one-man towing business.
    My younger brother was Bill, looking back I guess I was a pretty terrible older
    brother. We didn't really resolve our relationship until it was nearly too late. We
    were still in elementary school when our mother started working at the biggest
    department story in town to help keep the family afloat. At age ten I got a newspaper
    delivery route. My station was next to the Omaha World Herald building where I
    developed a fascination for print.

   When I was growing up, what I liked most was reading. Fiction mostly. I also liked
   radio, and later TV, and the movies. Even in high school, my interest in reading and
   continued to be nearly as strong as my interest in girls. Mostly I read hard boiled
   mysteries of the hard boiled kind, Raymond Chandler & Dashiell Hammett. War war
   novels, Mitchner's Bridges of Toko Ri, and Sayonara. Of course that included Leon
   Uris' Battle Cry. So, when I was 18, I thought I was ready for action. With my best
   friend Mac, I joined the Marines.

   United States Marine Corps

          1957-1959, 29 Palms Marine Corps Base, California

   It was the Eisenhower era -- the world was peaceful, the cold war was
   in  the deep  freeze,   Korea  was a distant  memory  no  one  talked
   about -- and no one I knew ever heard of a place called Vietnam.

  But I didn't  understand any of that at the time.

   We joined on a 2-year program, figuring we can always get more if
    we like it.  In Boot Camp I talked Mac into volunteering for Tanks.
    I wanted to drive a tank and go overseas to be ready when  the
    shooting started.
 
 

    I was sent to the California desert, 29 Stumps,
    to the motor pool of a self-propelled 155 mm
    Artillery Battery, (left) and got a jeep -- and
    sometimes a big truck.
 

   The only interesting part were the field exercises. We loaded everything on trucks and jeeps,
   drove into the desert to "camp out" while the guns  took part in live fire exercises.
 

   For me, the  Marine  Corps  turned  out to be most mostly hot and dusty with lots  of
   marching, raking sand to tidy up the barracks area, and swabbing floors every morning
 

   and evening, a couple months on mess duty
   (photo), living in crowded barracks in strict
   regimentation  for  reasons that were never
   explained,  and  being  ordered  about   by
   anyone  who  outranked  me,  which   was
   mostly everyone.

   I felt  like  a  mushroom -- kept in the dark
   and fed a lot of -- well, you know. Maybe it
   was the time or the place, but the last thing
   I expect from the Marines was to be bored
   to tears.

   The good thing is, after two years, I knew
   I didn't want anymore.

   Back to Omaha

       1959-1963, University of Nebraska at Omaha

   I majored  in  journalism  because  I wanted to  be  a  writer.  I enjoyed
   college. When others, who came right from high school to the university,
   whined and dropping out,  all  I  had  to  do  to  stay motivated was think
   about "29 Stumps."

   As I  neared  graduation,  I  was  sure  the war in  Vietnam would  get
   bigger. So I figured if I went back in the military that was my chance
   to write the great Vietnam war novel.  But not in the military military.
   Having visited an Air Force Base when I was a Marine,  I  figured  I
   knew a better way.

         1963, Lackland Air Force Base, Texas, Officers Training School (OTS)

    I was accepted for Air Force Officers Training School. The only small problem was,
    instead of the public affairs career field I requested, the Air Force said I was being
    assigned to the aircraft maintenance officer career field.
 

   In OTS some of the officer candidates think there
   is way too much regimentation and military BS.
   Whata laugh!
   Nothing makes you appreciate about to be an
   officer in the Air Force like having been a private
   in the Marine Corps.

   I was commissioned on December 20, 1993. Now, who
   do I see to get my career field changed?

   1964, Chanute Air Force Base, Illinois
   Aircraft Maintenance Officer Training
 

   However, once I got to OTS, they said the recruiter
   was wrong. You're gonna be an aircraft maintenance
   officer. "Sorry 'bot that."

   Seems nobody comes in the Air Force with a degree in
   Aircraft Maintenance. So along with my journalism degree,
   there are guys with majors in History, English, Poly Sci,
   etc., all wondering what the hey they're doing there.

   The course is eight months long, classes on God only
   knows. Mostly it seems we learn bureaucracy -- which
            is,  I suppose,  as  legitimate  as  anything  else  in  a  ground-bound  officer's life.

   1964-1966, George Air Force Base, California
 

   Think about it, two military services, trying
   to go overseas, and I'm still in the California
   desert. Come on!

   At least I'm with a fighter outfit,  the 8th
   Tactical   Fighter   Wing  that  flies   the
   USAF's  new  F4  Phantom.  Here I was
   on the flight line, something  that  made
   my  NCOs very nervous.
 

   What really galls me is going to meetings to study how cold weather will affect
   our new fighters. That's because the word from on high is that we're going to be
   assigned to a forward operating base in Alaska.

    COLD WEATHER? ALASKA? MY ASS!

  Read the flucking newspaper! I'm just a new lieutenant, but I know we're going to the war.
  How come no one else seems to know?

   The next year, 1966, sure enough, the wing is ordered to
   Ubon Air Base in Thailand to fly combat air support in
   Vietnam. Who wants to go? Me -- I'm gonna write the
   great American Vietnam war novel -- so SEND ME!
   Please!

   Hey, your orders just came in.
   Thailand? No.
   Vietnam? No.
   Where? Okinawa.
   Huh? That's where I wanted to go when I was a Marine.
   Now I want to go to Southeast Asia.
   Sorry about that.

   PACAF, The Pacific Air Force

    1966-1969, Kadena Air Base, Okinawa

   Okay, this is not bad, and Okinawa is one busy, exciting place.
   The island is not that big, but a million people live here. And
   over a hundred thousand of them are American military. Army,
   Navy, Marines, and of course us Air Force guys. Still, I hope to
   get transferred to Information (later the name changed to Public
   Affairs).
 
 

   I'm in the 18th Tactical Fighter Wing, flying the F-105 Thunderchief, the
   largest single-seat, single-engine fighter aircraft ever built. They call 'em
   Thuds, that's for the sound all that metal makes when it hits the ground.

   Now you may wonder what does a maintenance office do. Does he fix airplanes? No,
   my  job  is management,  which means signing papers, going  to  meetings, etc., etc.
   That way my senior NCOs, the real maintenance pros, can concentrating on keeping
   the Thuds flying. There they are, getting a Thud and the pilot ready to take off.

   Kadena is an exciting assignment. Most of the pilots have already flow combat in
   Vietnam. The wing provides planes and people to the F-105 Wing at Korat Air Base
   in Thailand. The pace is hectic, and you're close enough to the war to feel the heat.
   But it ain't being there.

   So, first thing, I volunteer for TDY (temporary duty) to Korat.
   Finally, "Yeah, we got one for you." Thailand? "No." Vietnam? "No." Where? "Korea."

   KOREA! That was the last war.
   Yes, except America still has 50,000 GIs there to keep that one from starting up again.
   And since all the combat aircraft went to Southeast Asia, we have to send some Thuds
   to Osan Air Base to support the Army train.
   "Oh, yeah. Thanks a lot."
   Hey, you'll like it, Korea is the best kept secret in the Air Force.

   And it is, but that's another story. It is in my novel: KOREA BLUE  Click on the link
   to find out how to get a copy.

   During my tour on Okinawa, I made numerous TDYs to Taiwan and Japan as well as
   Korea. But not to Vietnam or Thailand. I also got to ride in the back seats of both
   the Thud and and F-100. Plus, I was promoted to Captain.
 

   Here I  am (photo)  thinking this time  I'm  really  gonna get some.
   I  was  in  the  first  support  group that  followed  the  fighters.  At
   first we believe we're there to get the ship and crew back. However,
   a stalemate developed as the North Koreans torment the crew and
   the  Americans  back  home  for  the  next year, and the whole thing
   turns into a waiting game.
 

    "Yeah, I
    think you
    can go now."
 
 
 

   After four months, I returned to Kadena. Short now, my tour is almost over. But I still
   wanted to go to the war.

   So I did it my way. My only brother Bill never wanted any part of the military or
   Vietnam. Naturally, despite all his efforts, after college, he was sucked into the Army.
   His feet hardly touched the ground before he was in Vietnam as a combat infantry soldier.
   I finagled my way to Vietnam to visit him. He was in the Americal Division stationed
   in the central highlands. But that's another story, and it doesn't have a happy ending.

   A month after seeing Bill, I set off for a new assignment and a new job. The Air Force
   finally figured out why all those airplanes kept falling out of the sky, and decided it was
   a wise idea to let go to the Military Public Affairs Officers Training Course.

       1969-1970, Luke Air Force Base, Arizona

   After three months in PAO school, I became the Chief of Public Affairs for an
   Air Defense Headquarters at Luke. It was a 3-story, reinforced concrete building,

   nearly as big as a football field. With no windows.
   It's really just a huge computer that monitors military
   air traffic for the entire southwestern US. Now this
   computer was designed in the 50s, before transistor
   chips, so it had millions of vacuum tubes. Which had to
   be air conditioned. Therefore that building was just about
   the best place to be if you're in Arizona.

   Finally, I'm writing stories, taking pictures and in charge of a monthly unit newsletter.
   The work I've alwayswanted to do. Of course the officer-in-charge is supposed to
   manage and let the NCOs and airmen do that other stuff. But why should they
   have all the fun?

   My job takes me to Hamilton Air Force Base in Marin County,
   where I discover California wine, to Colorado Springs for a
   conference, and to San Diego to cover a new radar at a site on top
   of Mt. Laguna. The boss is atwo-star general who likes my work
   and treats me like one of his chosen few.

   I guess I had it too good. Career was on an upward track, and I
   even got a medal for excellent job performance. So, naturally, I
   volunteer the second time for an assignment to Southeast Asia.

   Hey, we got your orders.

   Where?
 

Korea??? Again???

    1970-1971, Suwon Air Base Korea

   I can't believe it -- I'm
   back in Korea because all
   the assignments in Vietnam
   and Thailand were filled.

   Well, sure I like it. And I'm
   the Chief of Public Affairs
   for  Suwon  Air  Base.  Of
   course Suwon is only 500
   GIs  on  a Korean   base.
    My staff is one sergeant.
    The unit has just five F-102
    interceptors, that  fly  air defense missions. My office was in a quonset hut (photo) shared
    with other shops.  Sounds crowded, but it was all done by me, two sergeants and two airmen.

   I improved the newspaper, better design, better quality printing process, cut way back on the
   command garbage, and put in cartoons and fun features. Soon, instead of most copies ending up

   At first I was disappointed that I didn't get
   assigned  to Osan,  the big base,  an hour
   south  of  Suwon.  But I soon realize  that
   instead of being one of many officers in a
   big shop,  it is a lot more  satisfying  to be
   the  top  dog  even  if  it's a small  kennel.

   Here I have one foot in South Korea (photo) and one foot in North Korea. This
   is the building at Panmunjom  where the the two sides meet for the never-ending

    talks to not end the war.  The  table
    where  they  sit  facing  each  other
    straddles the dividing line between
    the  two  countries. The  photo  was
    taken during a special services tour
    when there aren't any meetings going
    on. We could walk around inside the
    building and cross into North Korea.
    But  don't  step   across   that   line
    outside -- or you'll be in deep kimchee.

   It is a mostly positive assignment.  The  Air Force commander at Osan awards the  Air Force
   Commendation  Medal  for my work.  However,  my  personal  relationship  with  the  Suwon
   commander has gone steadily downhill and I get dinged in the final days for my off-duty lifestyle.

   Despite that,  I'm still focused  on getting  to the war,  which  any  fool  can  tell  won't  last much
   longer. So, rather than worry about my career, I volunteered for Southeast Asia for the third time.

   Sorry, got all the volunteers we need for Southeast Asia. But there is this
   one job you might be interested in . . .

          1971-1973, Clark Air Force Base, Philippines

   How does this keep happening?  Now  I'm  in  a place  that makes  Korea  seem  like  an
   overpriced convent. Which considering my personal proclivities, is not a good career move.

   But it sure is beautiful here. Out beyond the main gate Mount Arayat towers majestically
   over Clark Air Base. No it's not the onethat blew up and closed the place -- that was Pinatubo
   on the opposite side of the base.

   Clark is like falling through the looking
   glass into the arms of the Mad Hatter.
   The Vietnam war is a lost cause swirling
   down the crapper. That brought reductions
   to  the  U.S.  Pacific  base  with  those in
   Thailand  and Taiwan eventually closing.
 

   My main problem was I really hate my job.
   I was a headquarters weenie in the 13th Air
   Force Public Affairs Office. All management
   mumble peg and paper shuffling ad'nausium.
   There  were  few  chances  to  exercise   my
   strengths, writing and photography. On the
   plus side, there was a conference in Bangkok, followed by visit to the air bases  in  Thailand.

   Participated in a couple of major news events. A record rainfall in 1972 when More
   than 60 inches swamp Clark turning it into an island for several months. The surrounding
   countryside was devastated. Clark ran a huge relief effort delivering food to the locals
   with helicopters. Still, my headquarters malaise wouldn't go away, and I was totally at
   odds with the office higher ups.

          Homecoming

   Then, in 1973, the  most  interesting event of my career took place after America declared
   victory in Vietnam and agreed to leave if the North Vietnam would release the U.S. POWs.

   In February, Operation  Homecoming,  the  return
   got underway. As the closest base, Clark was  the
   reception  point for returnees after they left Hanoi.
   Homecoming  became the biggest  media  event in
   my career.  I spent  two months  working in a huge
   Press  Center  along  with   more  than a  hundred
   members  of  the  national  and international news
   media who covered the story.

   When  America  rallied  to  cheer  the returnees, it
   turned  into  the  most  positive  news  story  of  the
   entire  war. I  shared  in  the credit.

   Unfortunately, when it is over,  my  lack  of attention
   to  career building, my less than desired team-playing
   attitude, and habitsthat didn't rate well with USAF
   promotions boards, my career was in the dumper.

   The Ride Gets Bumpy

            1973-1974, Lackland Air Force Base, Texas

   My next assignment was to the base Public Affairs Shop at the Air Training Command
   Headquarters. My shop put out the base newspaper and wrote press releases. I made
   sure I got to write an occasional story and take a few pictures. It's was a challenging
   assignment, and I thought I was doing good work.

   First,  I  was  passed  over  for promotion.
   Then,  at the beginning of 1974 I got word
   I  was  being  RIFed  (Reduction in Force).
   The  military  way  of  saying,  you're fired
   Captain.

   I  was  seven  years  short  of  retirement.

   Damn,  am I depressed!
 

   At  first I figured life as  I  knew it  is  over. Then I start look for a loophole. Somewhere,
   if you don't give up, there's always a loophole.

   First off, I knew that since I had more than 10 years as a commissioned officer, I could reenlist,
   but it would be as an NCO. Once I completed 20 years service, I could retire at the highest grade
   held. In my case Captain.

   Okay, seven years isn't the end of the world.  But I sure don't want to stay in Texas.

   Then I trip over a secondloophole. The personnel people told me I would be separated, but then
   I had three months to present myself to the Air Force personnel office at "any" Air Force and
   and would automatically be reenlisted as a staff sergeant.

   Did they say "ANY"???

    ALOHA, BABY!!!

Welcome to Paradise, Sergeant

       1974-1979, Hickam Air Force Base, Hawaii

   How can you not love this place? Without a doubt, especially if you're a Far East
   Freak, Honolulu is the BEST assignment in the world. It's like I've come home,
   even thought I've never been here before, except to pass through.
 

   They stuck me in the Public Affairs Shop in the Hickam HQ building (left) working on
   the base newspaper. Not too shabby. I was taking pictures, writing stories, generally
   getting to do whatever the hell I felt like. The work took me out of the office and on
   my own quite a bit (photo). As a riffed officer, the higher ups feel sorry for me and the
   enlisted guys are a bit wary, and not sure how to treat me.  Still,  the adjustment to a
   the 50 percent pay cut grated a bit.

          March, 1975

   Nine months later, the North Vietnamesewere closing in on Saigon and the war was almost
   over. Clark was to be the mainevacuation points for the pullout. And they need PA people to
   work in a press center. It's like a mini-rerun of Homecoming.

   I'm back!

   Just over the horizon, in time to witness the final agony. To see the bedraggled press,
   disheartened embassy staff, and hordes of Vietnamese refugees slide through. Thirteen years,
   in the Air Force duringAmerican's longest war in, and I've always been on the sidelines.

   Damn, that's depressing. However seeing a lot of "old friends" and some new ones back at
   Clark was sweet consolation.

   After I return to Honolulu, I'm still in love with paradise, but the job got a bit tiresome. Then
   a sergeant, a PA in another unit, came to our office asking, "Anybody here want to trade jobs?"

   Seems he's a oneman PA shop for the Pacific
   Communications Area (PCA), a headquarters
   group for USAF comm  and air traffic control
   units. He had an officer boss, but the Air Force
   cut the officer's slot so now the NCO is on his
   own -- and he doesn't like it.

   First I say, no thanks, headquarters is a  drag.
   Yeah,  he says, you're right,  "but what I really
   hate is all that TDY."

    All that TDY!

   Seems he's required to make staff visits to every Air Force base in the Pacific a couple times
   each year. Two weeks later, I'm the new PA Chief at PCA.

   In addition to TDY, the other thing they do in PCA is play a lot of golf. Every Wednesday
   afternoon. Now, I'm not a golfer, but I'm also not the sort who thinks he should be stuck

   One reason the job is so good is because
   I'm the only PA guy in the headquarters.
   My  boss  is  the  personnel  officer.  He
   doesn't bothers me ifno one bothers him
   about me. As long as I get an occasional
   picture of the general, and a few stories
          on the troops doing the work in the newspapers,  I get to live in Paradise
          and  write  my  own  ticket  when  I  feel  the  need  to  travel.

         And that ticket had numerous stops in Okinawa, Japan, Korea (below -- left), the Philippines and
         Guam. I divided my staff assistance visits into two sections.  The northern Pacific, which included
         Okinawa,  Korea  and  Japan. And the southern Pacific,  the  Philippines  and  Guam.  No sense
         stressing out. I made the  runs  about  three  times  a  year for  the  next  four  years.  For  some
         reason it always took longer in  Korea and the  Philippines than other places.

   Talk about falling in a bucket of you-know-
   what and coming up with a rosein your teeth.

   But even the Air Force demands payback sooner or later.

   No One Rides For Free

          1979-1981, Scott Air Force Base, Ill.

   Eventually you always pay. Five years in Honolulu in the best job in the world.
   Go directlyto a corn field the middle of nowhere for two years.

   Well, okay, Bellville, Ill. isn't really nowhere. Just feels like it. Like Omaha.
   Only smaller -- a lotsmaller. Another HQ assignment. AFCS is the the higher
   headquarters for PCA in Hawaii.  But at least there is a command newspaper,
   and they make me theassistant editor. Good work, and as much as I hate the
   place, I got some great TDY trips.

• Alaska to cover a cold weather exercise.
• California and Nevada to cover a major southwest Army/Air Force exercise.
• New Orleans and Washington DC for military conventions.
• The gulf coast at Mobile, Ala. for Maxwell AFB's open house event.

   All right! I take 30-daysleave and do it. Wonderful time.  In  addition  to  the
   Weisbaden area, Ivisit Nurnberg, Frankfort, Amsterdam,Paris, Naples and Rome.
   And I would of had some great pictures if my camera didn't crap out when I was on
   top of the Eiffel Tower. When I got back I had less than a year to go.

   So all in all it was a rough two years. But the end was near.

   Time For That Sunset Ride

            1981, Retirement
   My twenty years of active duty end October 31, 1981. The Air Force is required
   to sent me to my place of enlistment (Omaha) or to the location of my choosing.

   Aloha!!! Send me back to Paradise.

   On the way, I pull one last run from my bag. With 60-days leave on the books,
   after the Air Force sends my stuff to Honolulu, I took terminal leave starting
   the last day of August.

   So, in a way, I really only served 19 years and 10 months.

   Using space-available travel, I flew back to Europe for a couple weeks and
   knocked around a while, then returned to Scott to picked up my almost-new
   280 ZX -- my retirement present to myself. Then I'm off to San Francisco, visiting
   old friends along the way. In San Francisco, the Air Force shipped my car to Honolulu.
   But this run isn't over. I sign up for space-A and fly to Korea.  After dallying awhile,
 

   The next day I picked up up my car, then went to Hickam
   to get a new (blue) Retired ID card. When it was ready,
   the NCO at the counter handed it to me, and said, "Is
   there anything else I can do for you, Captain?"

   I  smiled, and said, "Thanks, sergeant, you just did."

   This photo was taken at the 23rd floor of the condo I
   moved into for the next two years. It had a panoramic
   view of Honolulu and Waikiki. The next two years were
   bachelor paradise. And when I get bored, with Hawaii,
   I space-Aed to my favorite playgrounds. I was also into
   jogging 5 miles a day and my weight got down to the
   lowest since I was a teenager.

   After a while I even went to work, as a copy editor for
   the Honolulu Advertiser. In 1982, I hooked up with a
   former lady friend. A year later I moved to San Diego
   and got married, the 3rd time -- but that's another story.

   Last Thoughts

   I suppose I might have done it differently. But for me, if you weren't in the
   fighting, to my way of thinking being in the U.S. military should be like one of
   those Hollywood movies, the ones they use to call "a wacky service comedy."

   And  of  course  it  was  also  about  getting  out  of  Omaha  to  see  the  world.
   So I guess I achieved pretty much what I had in mind.

   Since coming to San Diego, I eared an MA in Television and Film at San Diego
   State University in 1987. I did finally write my Vietnam war novel. But since I
   was never stationed in Vietnam it takes place in my first favorite place, Osan
   Air Base in Korea. If you're interested check out KOREA BLUE  published
   by Signet Books in 1991.

   No matter, for a middle class lad from Omaha, it was one hell of a ride!

• My Home Page
• Brother Bill's Place
• Clark Air Base Scrapbook