The autobiography of SFC Larry Nevinger
I am hoping that my children, Rodney and Kathy will read this after I am gone . They might then know I am not the loser they have always thought I am. They might realize that I have always loved them.
During high school I dated, fell in love with Barbara Kelbel. She was a shapely and beautiful red-head. We met in my Sophomore year and by 1970 when my class graduated I was ready for marriage. During those years I played football trying to impress her. During the off season I did “shoot put and discus”. I lettered in football 4 years straight and went to the state championship Track and Field Meets 3 years straight. I also did continuous running with the Cross Country Team but never went to any events. I also worked in a Mobil Gas Station on Fee Fee Road to help support my mother and sister. I never went to our graduation because I was pissed.
I had given Barbara an ultimatum to marry me. We talked a lot about it during those years. I told if she didn’t marry me I was going to join the Marines and go to Vietnam. She never married me, she walked down the isle with someone else when I shipped out to Vietnam. I never joined the Marines because the recruited was closed that day.
Why marines? My Uncle Amos Rodney Moore, by marriage took me to raise after my father was killed in a car wreck on July 2nd, 1963. Reason 1 and reason 2 was that my late cousin Ricky’s dad always claimed to have fought on Iwo Jima. Ricky’s dad and I fought before I joined. I kidnapped my Aunt Alice for Thanksgiving Dinner and waited for him to get home from drinking to talk. I was 18. He punched me in the mouth 5 times and I laughed in his face. I said words like, “big man get your gun”. By then I was on a death wish anyway and he would be doing me a favor. To shorten the story, mostly because I don’t remember, after he emptied his .38 at me I ran home scared. That was the last time I have ever been afraid. I called him on the phone to see if he was out of ammo and to request again permission to spend the night. He, Rick, Roy, and I stayed up playing cards, drinking beer and eating doughnuts. When the time came Rick and I went to the Federal Building in Saint Louis to enlist in thr Marines but they were closed. The army was open.
Rick and I enlisted under the “Buddy System”. We were suppose to stay together for Basic and AIT. Ricky drank heavy and was headed to the stockade. I came down with double pneumonia. I passed out over while buffing the hallway of our barracks with a 104 degree fever. That was the 1st day of the eighth week.
First they took me to the ARD Ward on old post at Ft Leanardwood, MO. I was laying in a Spinal Meningitis ward and the soldiers on either side of me died the first night. It was February and cold. Our meals were kept outside and you literally had to wipe the frost off before you ate. I didn’t eat for 10 days, they fed me through a tube and I lost 30 pounds.
Rick had made a promise to me not to tell the family. He did anyway. I never wanted anyone to worry about me. When the family entered my hospital room I cussed them out and sent them home. After 18 days I was released and sent home on convalescent leave. The first 3 days I was unconscious, mom thought I was going to die. When my leave was over I went back to my old basic unit and startted over. Was on detail until the eighth week rolled around. I graduated.
Went to infantry AIT then to EOD School. The cadre at EOD told me I couldn’t go airborne so I quit at the end of the 1st two week. Buta Rubber suit city in the Georgia heat. Finally the army sent me to Ft Gordon, GA to the Military Police School.
Since I had multiple MOS’s I was assigned to the 5th Special Forces Group. I think the only great man I didn’t meet was Bull Simmons. Hank, Gunfighter 6 was the brigadier in charge of JFK. I lived in the field until I left for Vietnam. I was a “sole surviving son” so it took time to convince the army I would make great cannon fodder. My Team had told me about MAC V-SOG and black ops in Vietnam. It’s not good for me to get deep into the past. Besides you will never find any record of me being anywhere in Vietnam other than 3rd Field Hospital.
After the war I came home for 30 days before shipping out for my first tour in Korea. I noticed soldiers taking a lot of pictures, but I never took the time to get into it. My experience had been my father Harold and his 8mm video camera. He even built a light bar from aluminum and as I recall it had 4 large lights on it. He also had a projector and made mostly family and vacation videos.
After Vietnam
When my tour was done I got out of the army. Had trouble holding a civilian job. Back then it was “Shell Shocked”, and today you call it PTSD. Be a man and deal with it.
Finally, after 18 months I went back into the army. Lost one grade. I had been an E-5 in Vietnam and Korea but now I was a E-4 again. It’s OK because I was finally happy. The army made me a 16E and sent me to Fort Bliss, TX. Without any training but OJT (On the Job Training) I was put on “Package Training” where senior people replaced soldiers in Korea that ran a HAWK unit. I was IHAWK. Once we became operational the North Koreans sent 9 Migs to strafe our TAC Site. They didn’t fire and we held fire. A few years later NK’s came through the wire on the TAC Site trying to set Launcher Section Bravo on fire. I scaled two 12 foot fences with concertina wire on top. As I was clearing the last fence I hooked my pant leg on the wire and dropped about 14 feet on to my back. Then I put the fire out.
During my first accompanied tour of Korea my son Rodney (Sergeant Major Rodney Nevinger) was left behind. I forget why my then wife Pak, Kyong Nan and I didn’t take him with us. Anyway, Nan and I used a charcoal stove and charcoal floor heat to keep our hooch warm during the harsh winters. One night we forgot to open a window and were overcome by carbon monoxide. I don’t know why I woke up, but I did, and had a hellofa headache. I couldn’t get Nan or my daughter Kathy to talk to me. I believed they were both unconscious from the carbon monoxide. I put Kathy under one arm and Nan under the other, then I walked through the hooch door until I collapsed on the ground. Neighbors took care of them after that. My daughter Kathy to the best of my knowledge is a successful Realtor in Bell County Texas.
During the Panmunjom axe murder incident I was on a TAC Site in Korea. We stayed at Battle-stations for 90 days. We were either in the IBCC or a bunker. This was 18 Aug 1976 and became Operation Paul Bunyan.
Rodney was born the following February in Young-son 121st Evac Hospital. Kathy was born in Bell County Texas.
Nothing really significant after that in Korea. During my 5 years in country I did fight 9 fires. I spent 5 years in Korea.
6th Cavalry Brigade
I was on orders for my 6th tour in Korea when I failed a hearing test and was reclassified to a 76W fuel handler MOS. That’s funny, because today the VA doesn’t recognize my hearing loss. Anyway, things happened fast, I was at the Advanced NCO Course in Ft Lee, VA when Kathy was born.
I trained, “got relieved for cause” from the 255th Quartermaster. It was a REMF unit and I never should have been assigned there. I told a brigade commander to stick his brigade in his ass. It takes a Brigadier General to bust an E-7 and he was a mere full Colonel.
A month after that I report into the 6th Cavalry Brigade. My new company commander and platoon leader weren’t impressed with my previous record. I made no attempt to explain but I did say they were wrong about me and I would show them and not tell them. In the year that followed I did just that and they were impressed. Then one Friday afternoon I was called to the Brigade Commanders office. I reported, thinking this was the end of the army for me. He told me to sit, then he picked up the telephone and made a call. After a very few minutes he told the person on the other end “stick your brigade in your ass”. He dismissed me and told me to have a great weekend.
I trained and trained my soldiers to be the best of the best. I always openly argued with officers that if you take care of the men they would take care of the mission without you being there. I can’t remember how long I was there but pilots were still flying AH-1 Cobra Gunships, and there was pressure to find a way to make a 4 point FARP (Forward Area Refueling Point). One day I hooked a piece of 5 foot hard line between two 100 gpm pumps. I was able to overcome the 15 psi it takes to open the fuel cell on a Cobra and Huey. I could only do 3 points so there Scouts (OH-58) had their own nozzle. While in the FARP an aircraft is forbidden to fly over the source of fuel due to a possible catastrophic failure, so I had a fuel source and 4 points leading straight out. The distance between points was calculated by the diameter of the Cobra and Huey main rotor blades.
The Department of the Army decided they wanted to bring the AH-64 Apache onboard. LTC Jones (now 3 Star General) was made responsible. He did the aircraft and I did the FARP. I got diesel HEMMETS that had to be converted to JP-4. I put 1200 gallons of water in each tanker plus a bottle of Dove dish washing soap. Had my NCO’s and men run the vehicles about 60 miles on the tank trails to get things agitated. Then we drained the tankers into 55 gallon drums, filled with JP-4, and the lab report on each tanker was perfect. I think maybe during the Valdez spill they used Dove?
Desert Storm
I had the 4 point FARP now. During Desert Storm the 101st Airborne Division called it their Super FARP. BULLSHIT! It was mine. They were too dumb and lazy to figure it out. Their Super FARP was given credit for deep penetration to enemy targets during the war. To their credit they never named the inventor.
Day 1 of Desert Storm I was assigned to a Brigade Convoy. 96 vehicles and 300 men were led by 2 West Point Majors. Jones told them before we moved out that if they came under fire or got lost they should immediately contact me. They didn’t listen. We were deep into an Iraqi minefield before they called. I reported to the front of the column and inquired what the problem was. I just wanted them to say it. I suggested a calling for mine sweepers that would delay us and we would miss our mission time. We were one of the main elements of the Button Hook. They gave command to me, then I cussed them and their ancestors until I was motivated to get on my hands and knees for the next 15 hours clearing a path. My driver was told to stay 100 meters behind me in case I had a bad day. He watched me kick mines, and throw mines until he shit his pants. After the war he got 100% VA disability.
When I was done I led them just short of the original objective and gave the convoy back. Nothing was ever said about my insubordination. Some of the guys in the convoy accused me of saving their lives but I told them I had the knowledge so I did what had to be done.
