Geronimo Wine

Dedicated to one of the toughest medics I know, Christopher Smith…a real Brother.

The 2/501st Parachute Infantry had a completely different feel from the 1/321st Airborne Artillery. We NEVER walked down the center aisle of our barracks in the 321st. Artillery tended to be spit and polish. The infantry seemed a bit more relaxed. We also had a full medical platoon in the 501st, attached to headquarters company.

Christopher Smith took me under his wing. He was about two years older. They called him DZ (drop zone) because his face was slightly flat. He was a light skinned black man, and would be easily mistaken as white, especially around his younger brother (me). He had the longest legs. You had to run to keep up with him in the field. DZ was a natural in an infantry unit. He would later serve in long range recon units in Vietnam.

DZ introduced me to wine, women, and song. The music was Motown, which I still like to this day. It was more talk of women, cause we were lucky to see them from afar. But it was the wine that added the most flair to our experiences.

Orange Rock wine could be described as rot gut. Orange Rock held two important qualities, that were sadly needed. First, it was cheap. I made slightly over five thousand dollars in three years. This included jump pay, combat pay, and achieving an E5 pay grade toward the end of my enlistment. Cheap was good. Second, the wine tasted really, really bad. Guys would pop into the barracks, and of course want a share of our treasure. But, when they saw the label it was almost always, “No thanks!” Those that tried, would wrinkle their faces in pure disgust. DZ and I would chuckle, taking another sip.

One of my earliest recollections was the night DZ grew strangely tired and fell asleep. Think he had one small snort from the bottle. He had passed it to me and I gave it an obligatory wipe. (We were close, but not that close.) Anyway, I took my turn and was passing it back, when I saw that he was fast asleep.

That Orange Rock was powerful strong tasting, but I commenced to take my share of the Rock. Completing my share, I took a bit of DZ’s share. Next thing I knew, it would be insulting to leave the remainder for my friend. I slipped the empty under his bunk. He was either going to beat me, or be proud.

Well, Smith woke the next morning fit to kill.  He roared, “Who da blankity blank stole our wine!” I kind of grinned and said, “Nobody.” DZ went all over that barracks, telling the crew that I drank a whole bottle of wine. I can tell you, that he never dozed off again.

On our downside, we were noted as trouble together. Even the brass knew who to call, if they needed lug nuts and other jeep supplies for inspection. DZ always said, “If you’re going to do wrong: do it in broad daylight, have lots of witnesses, and act like you are supposed to be doing it!” We had a good time, but most of the details will stay with me. I can tell you that I was first shot at, well before Vietnam.  There are two recollections that I can share…

We went on leave broke for Christmas. Of course they asked us if we had money, when issuing the leave papers. We replied…yes. We hitched rides  from the base to Ohio, where we would split to go our separate ways. DZ had enough for a hamburger and fries with water. We shared the one meal to get us home. We were in uniform, cause rides were much easier to get that way. The waitress informed us that a lady would pick up our tab. So, we ordered a second hamburger! DZ gave me two dollars for drinks, for the way home to Maine. We were brothers who split down the middle.

The other memory was a huge divisional IG inspection of quarters. Everyone spent about two weeks preparing. DZ and I had stuff to do. The day before the inspection, we ‘found’ some spray paint to paint our lockers and put diagrams on the inside of the doors, detailing the contents of our lockers. From the outside, our lockers stood out! If you bothered to move anything in the locker, we were going to jail! The quarters inspection took place while we were about our assigned duties. The guys were really miffed, cause we were the only two men in the barracks without a gig. They had another inspection for corrections. DZ and I were exempt and about our business.

Have since lost track of Christopher Smith. I looked him up in Vietnam, during a rare divisional stand down. I saw him briefly stateside upon return. I can tell you that characters tend to make the best combat soldiers…that being said, DZ was the best.

Strong salute, my Brother!