Fort Bragg, North Carolina (1994)

A photo I took of the guys from AT-4 counting the live ammo we’d just been issued for the invasion.

From left to right is my first squad leader, SP4 Geiger, some young kid whose name I can’t remember, CPL Gonzalez, and PFC Shook.

Shook was the dirtiest, nastiest person I ever met.

He chain smoked and he had DEFCON level halitosis.

He was also one of the toughest kids in our unit.

He’d go run five miles, then come back to the barracks and smoke a cigarette in the shower.

CPL Gonzalez was the most savvy of all of almost anyone in the Company. He taught me how to assemble and disassemble the .50 Cal as well as to adjust its headspace and timing.

He loved our old Platoon Sergeant, Michael “Action” Jackson, but he hated the next one, SFC Olson.

One day at JRTC in Louisiana, CPL Gonzalez began ripping apart the lockers in the barracks piece by piece and hurling them against the wall and screaming about how much he fucking hated SFC Olson.

Apparently, CPL Gonzalez had fathered a child with a woman other than his wife and had to pay the woman patrimony.

SFC Olson, being new to the platoon, had accidentally sent a copy of CPL Gonzalez’s pay stub to Gonzalez’s wife, who wanted to know what the deduction was for. She called payroll and they told her.

Her next phone call was to her husband…


Fort Bragg, North Carolina (1994)

From FB. A photo I took of Specialist (SP4) Urbaniak watching Corporal (CPL) Holtmeyer smoke Private First Class (PFC) Ayers for some stupid infraction or for just generally mouthing off.

I know it was for something stupid because Ayers is smiling.

CPL Holtmeyer was my very first roommate in the barracks for all of a week before he moved out to private quarters.

This was in an assembly area preparing to jump into Haiti:

“PANTHER HISTORY:

On this day in Panther history, Sept. 17, 1994, the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment was alerted as part of “Operation Restore Democracy” in Haiti. The 505th PIR was scheduled to make combat parachute jumps in order to help oust the military-led dictatorship and restore the democratically elected president. The 82nd’s first wave was in the air. The 505th was loaded on aircrafts awaiting takeoff. Haitian military dictators agreed to step down when learning the 82nd Abn. Div. was on its way, therefore averted the invasions.”

Sava River Crossing

From FB:

“This is a bit of esoteric for most, but some will remember:In December-ish 1995, 2-505 P.I.R. was on DRF-1. Right before we took over as the battalion go-to worldwide contingency force, they told us all to gather for a brief in York Theater off Ardennes. (We had to march in formation there, even though we were right across the road. I still remember that.)

So everyone’s gathered in there and they start to tell us what’s the most likely thing that can happen that we’re going to have to respond to and it turns out that when it’s our turn at the Tip of the Spear, the 1st Armored Division is going to be attempting a supposedly uncontested crossing of the Sava River into Northeast Bosnia to help bring peace to that war-torn region. But they had their concerns and they were about to tell them to us…


Inside the theater, it’s dark and we’re cocky. We’ve been through the same shit over a year before when we were supposed to jump into Haiti and those COWARDLY HATIAN BITCHES folded once they heard the almighty EIGHTY SECOND AIRBORNE was on its way from Pope AFB.

(Hell, Al Gore even came down on his pathetic crutches and congratulated the Division on the amazing job we almost did, except, of course, he forgot to mention 3rd Brigade when he was going through his teleprompter thank-you checklist and we boo’d him with gusto. But I digress…)

Yet, this briefing felt different. The briefer began telling us we’d be flying into a mountainous terrain, and we’d be spiraling down if we’d be doing any type of jump, and oh, yeah, they’d have heavy machine guns in the mountains ready to shoot our slow, lumbering prop driven aircraft down before we even had a chance to hear, “Green Light, go!”


That was the first and only time as a paratrooper I remember thinking to myself, “Damn. This shit just got real. This is some D-Day level shit. Not sure if I’m ready for all that…” It was the first time in my brief military career I felt any thing that could approach fear, but the inchoate ideas still remained in the abstract realm. I remember sitting in that dark theater with a couple hundred other quiet paratroopers (but essentially all by myself) thinking “Wow. That sounds pretty shitty. This doesn’t sound like it’s going to end well.”

As I slowly processed the information, another thought occurred. That thought was this:

“Well, what am I going to do about it? Nothing. I’m here, and I’m sure as hell not running. So, whatever happens happens. If it’s gonna suck, it’s gonna suck. Oh, well. I guess here we go…”


Fortunately, we never had to find out how bad that could have been as the 1st Armored crossed without opposition a few days later, but I’ll never forget that briefing.

Posting in case anyone else remembers it, too…


MORE:

“Operation Joint Endeavor: Bosnia

Battalions of the 82nd prepared for a possible parachute jump to support elements of the 1st Armored Division which had been ordered to Bosnia-Herzegovina as part of Operation Joint Endeavor. Only after engineers of the 1st Armored Division bridged the Sava River on 31 December 1995 without hostilities did the 82nd begin to draw down against plans for a possible Airborne operation there.

ONE MORE FROM A FELLOW PARATROOPER:

“I remember specifically (Command Sergeant Major Henry) Behr stating the part about machine gun fire coming down on top of us cuz we’d be flying low and ‘fucking paratroopers are gonna be dead before the green light!”‘”

Goldman Bryson

From FB:

“Here’s the grave of Captain Goldman Bryson (East Tennessee Union Volunteers), whom my GGGF Cam Taylor is alleged to have killed.

Just to prove that one family’s hero is another family’s villain, I found a very good web page that noted that Bryson farmed the area at Six Mile inside the Monroe County (NC) border near Cherokee, NC. In order to avoid conscription into the North Carolina Confederate Home Guard, he slipped off into the mountains and became a leader of other “outliers” at the age of 44.”

Cam Taylor

From FB. My father owns the original tintype from which this digital photograph was derived:

“From a website, I found this photograph (circa 1869) of my Great Great Grandfather, Campbell H. Taylor, and his first wife, Stacy E. (Welch) Taylor. Standing between them is their oldest and only surviving child, Elizabeth “Bettie” Haseltine (Taylor) Keys.

This is his obituary from a local Coffeyville, OK paper:

“Campbell H. Taylor, a Pioneer Indain [sic] Lawyer of this city, died at his home, 504 East Fourth Street, this afternoon shortly before 3 O’clock. He had been in poor health foe [sic] some time and had not been in the active practice of law for a number of years. He was the father of Mrs. Shelly Keys.”

He also apparently had eight children with his second wife, Minnie Rebecca (Grayson) Taylor, who survived him.

Cambell H. Taylor was a Captain in the Confederate Army under “Confederate Colonel and Cherokee Chief” William Holland Thomas.

Thomas later became Principal Chief of the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians (the only white man ever to be a chief of the Cherokees), and was an officer in the Confederate States Army during the American Civil War in which he led a legion of mixed Cherokee and Scots-Irish Highlanders (both races of which I am descended) under Jubal Early during his Shenandoah Valley campaign of 1864.

(Prior to this in 1862, a portion of the Legion was sent to Powell’s Valley on the border of Tennessee and Virginia and was ambushed at Baptist Gap. When Cherokee Lieutenant Astooga Stoga was killed leading a counterattack, enraged Indian comrades scalped several dead or wounded Union soldiers. To defuse the situation, Colonel Thomas had the scalps returned to the Union with apologies.)

My Great Great Grandfather is probably most famous for bushwhacking a Unionist named Captain Goldman Bryson, who was raiding numerous Western North Carolina communities during the Civil War. Bryson had previously been implicated in 1856 of the murder of a Cherokee constitutional convention delegate who resided in Cherokee County, NC. In the autumn of 1863, Bryson and his Federal Mounted Company of 120 to 150 troops marched into the town of Murphy in Cherokee, then sacked the town. Confederate General Braxton Bragg, North Carolina Governor Zebulon Vance, and Thomas’ Legion determined to put an end to Bryson and his troops. The Cherokees of Thomas’ Legion tracked Bryson’s troops for two days. Upon locating Bryson, Campbell H. Taylor demanded that he stop. When he refused, my GGGF apparently shot him – November 01, 1863.

In a book we have on the famous Thomas, it is written:

“In late October, Captain Campbell H. Taylor and about twenty-five of Thomas’ Indians pursued Bryson. They killed him, but all of his men escaped. The next day some of the Indians were seen wearing parts of Bryson’s bloody uniform as they patrolled the streets of Murphy. General Braxton Bragg thanked Taylor, praised the Cherokee solders for their loyalty, and gave Thomas permission to recruit two more companies of Indians.”

My Dad has provided information that indicates that Taylor, “…was a POW near the end of the Civil War. He then went to IT (Oklahoma Indian Territory) after the war, was an attorney in (the Cherokee government seat of) Tahlequah, also had a stable there. His first wife, Stacy Welch Taylor died in 1888 near Coffeyville, Oklahoma. He remarried Minnie Rebecca Grayson in Independence, KS and registered his second family on the (Cherokee) Miller roll in Coffeyville. I thought that he died in 1912 but have copy of an obit that is dated 1914. He died in Coffeyville (OK). He was then living with his oldest child, Elizabeth Haseltine Taylor Keys. His second wife lived until 1953 and is buried in Lenapah.”

Blacksburg, Virginia (2017)

New Mal in front of our old dorm room on 5th Floor Major Bill.

It’s now an office shared by two professors.

We barged in and regaled them with stories of the room’s former glory years.

They couldn’t believe two guys our size actually lived together for a year in such a small space.

David Taylor, Sr.

From FB:

This is the grave of David Taylor, Sr. – my Great Great Great Grandfather.

His wife was Mary “Polly” Ann Bigby of Cass, Georgia, who died in 1885.

Together, they had 11 children, including James Madison Taylor and Campbell H. Taylor. He’s buried in a rural cemetery in Cherokee, NC.

The inscription on his tombstone reads:

“David Taylor, Sr. Born
Orange Co., VA 1791
Died 1877, Citizen Of
Cherokee Nation
Before Removal.
Congress In 1852
Paid Him For Land
He Lost By Treaty
New Echota Dec.
29, 1835. His Sons
James-Campbell H.
Were Captains In
Thomas Confederate
Legion.”

Here’s what Wikipedia says about the Treaty of New Echota:

‘The Treaty of New Echota was a treaty signed on December 29, 1835, in New Echota, Georgia by officials of the United States government and representatives of a minority Cherokee political faction, known as the Treaty Party. The treaty was amended and ratified by the US Senate in March 1836, despite protests from the Cherokee National Council and its lacking the signature of the Principal Chief John Ross.

The treaty established terms under which the entire Cherokee Nation was expected to cede its territory in the Southeast and move west to the Indian Territory (Oklahoma). Although the treaty was not approved by the Cherokee National Council, it was ratified by the U.S. Senate and became the legal basis for the forcible removal known as the Trail of Tears.’

2,500 to 6,000 Cherokee died on the Trail of Tears.”

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