Incident at Outpost 21

Incident at Outpost 21

As time passes some memories of different events seem to become sharper and more detailed. Is this just

our mind adding to the clutter already there? This particular narrative is absolutely, positively, one hundred percent true! This episode took place just about two weeks before Christmas in nineteen seventy.

I had the dubious honor of being in charge of a small squad of men that were manning a tiny border outpost on the border of East and West Germany. We spent our daytime patrolling the border and our nights watching the border from a seventy five foot tower that was our radar and radio shack. Weather was always a factor out there. Winter time was exceptionally brutal. Temperatures at the time hovered around ten to twenty five below zero most of the time. At the outpost our heat was from Army issue kerosene heaters.

Our little outpost consisted of the tower, a metal shed, twenty by forty feet for our so called mess hall and another twenty by forty foot shed for our barracks. These quarters were spaced about forty feet apart. The latrine was an outhouse about fifty yards away. At twenty five below zero we didn’t spend much time in there! When we were at the outpost, in from patrol, we tried to get some sleep between watches. The watches rotated in twelve hour shifts, spent in the tower watching the snow drifts and listening to the wind howl.

This week was interesting for several reasons, not the least of which we were due to be inspected by our company Commander Captain Cherry. Naturally I wanted to be prepared for an inspection since I was in charge.

To understand how this incident happened I must tell the reader some further details about our outpost setup. Besides the tower and the little buildings we also had two five hundred gallon fuel tanks buried in the hillside close by our quarters. They were labeled in twelve inch high letters. One on the left was labeled Diesel Fuel and the one on the right was labeled Mogas (for gasoline).

Being recently promoted naturally I wanted to make a good impression on Captain Cherry. In addition to having all our quarters spotlessly clean I got the bright idea to paint the interior of our so called mess hall. Take in to consideration that objects are quite difficult to paint when the temperature outside is twenty five degrees below zero. It was around eight o’clock in the evening when I got my brain storm to have one of my squad paint the inside of the mess hall walls. The person I chose for the job was a very reluctant Private First Class by the last name of Gonzalez, he was the ripe old age of nineteen, compared to my wise old age of twenty. Unknown to me at the time, Gonzalez did not know the difference between diesel fuel and gasoline!

Just as we were starting our painting project the kerosene heater in the mess hall ran out of fuel. Naturally I directed Gonzalez to go to the tank and get some fuel for the heater to keep the building warm enough to dry the paint before our inspection the next day. I had been on patrol that day, so I needed to get some sleep. Just as Gonzalez was heading out to get the fuel, I headed for our barracks building. By this time it was getting very late and very dark. As I entered our barracks building I heard a loud explosion behind me. Instantly I realized what went wrong. Gonzalez had put gasoline into the kerosene heater and lit it, instant explosion. The dirt and soot from the heater stuck to all of the fresh paint that had been applied.

At that instant my dreams of a military career seemed to evaporate before my eyes. Thank God Gonzalez was not injured! Cleaning up the mess took the rest of the night. We did get an inspection the nest day by Captain Cherry, and passed with flying colors due to the help of all concerned and the cold temperatures that helped to shorten the inspection to about ten minutes! In closing I want to apologize to you Gonzalez. I am sure at the time I said some very strong words that should not be repeated here.

Franklin F Flood