General Gus Comes To Visit
11 April 1968

     As if things were not already busy enough for us getting ready to host the arrival of the 301st Vietnamese National Police Field Forces (NPFF), we were informed that there was going to be a walk through inspection of the outpost by the battalion commander.

     Every day someone from the company and battalion would drop by to conduct preliminary inspections of everything from grass cutting to tent construction for the NPFF billets. We felt like the fish in an aquarium. We were also constantly reminded that the morning of the inspection we better be clean shaven, have new hair cuts, clean and pressed fatigues, shined boots and no one was to wear their Boonie hats. We had to wear those funny looking baseball caps that we were issued in basic training. As to the hair cuts and clean uniforms, the reminders came daily, but no one at company or battalion bothered to authorize us transportation or time to leave the outpost to go into company to do it. At that time we were only permitted one daily visit to the company area to eat a hot meal and take a shower, per man, per week, and had to return before dark. Getting our quarters (for lack of a better word), together for inspection would be easy. Since were were sleeping on cots under an open pavilion there were no beds to be made and floors to be cleaned. Everything just fell down between the floor boards, which were old truck pallets.

     The morning of the inspection we managed to look presentable, not spit shined, but presentable. It was the best we could do under the circumstances. Just before dawn all the company senior brass and NCO’s arrived to give it another look before LTC Zane V. Kortum, the battalion commanding officer, and the VIP’s arrived. We were taken aside and informed that when the colonel arrives we were to stay in the background, stand at attention and keep our mouths shut.

It wasn’t until that morning when I learned that the VIP was the 18th MP Brigade Commander and Provost Marshal General of Vietnam, Brigadier General (BG) Karl W. Gustafson. As the entourage of VIP’s entered the outpost the officers and senior NCO’s scrambled to get to their place in line behind the General.      We did as told, stood in line inside our pavilion, and just watched from a distance. They walked through the compound stopping and inspecting each new tent, trench line, and bunker. The NPFF were in formation and the usual "walk the line" was conducted.      It was getting hot and we were tired, so our only thoughts were to get this over with so things would again return to normal.      As the entourage was finishing up their walk through, BG Gustafson looked over towards us and immediately turned and walked our way.      LTC Kortum and the company brass were right behind him. At six foot-three inches, I was the tallest MP stationed at the outpost, yet the General towered over me. We all immediately snapped to attention.

Brigadier General Karl W. Gustafson General Gus went on to become the ninth Provost Marshal General of the U.S. Army on 1 October 1968. He retired as a Major General and passed from our ranks on 16 July 2000 in Augusta, Georgia.

     When the General entered the pavilion he turned and waived LTC Kortum and the company brass away. If you could have seen the look on their faces, pure shock. At this point I didn’t know what to think having never met a general officer face to face before. BG Gustafson stood there, towering over us, stern faced, his hands clenched in fist on his hips, he took a moment to look directly at each one of us. We were all perplexed not knowing what would happen next. All I could think of was were were in trouble now. When he finished his brief but thorough visual inspection, his face broke into a broad smile and he asked us to relax and have a seat while he removed his hat and sat down with us. I think he enjoyed that brief moment he had us shaking in our boots. We were nervous and glancing around for direction, after all we were told to stay out of the way and keep out mouths shut. We could see all the battalion and company brass watching intently from a distance to see what would happen next. BG Gustafson's next words to us were to forget that he was a general and to be honest with him. He then asked how were were being treated. Talk about an uncomfortable silence. I didn’t know what to think. Here, right before me is a general, our general, sitting down with us like an old friend asking a 20 year old PFC how he is being treated by the Army! It was a natural feeling to be somewhat skeptical of this situation, but from the look on his face I began to believe that he was sincere, that this was more that just a show. Of course no one was going to offer a complaint, common sense and military training prevailed. The general could see that if he wanted any specifics he would have to ask the right questions. As we talked he would look directly at each of us and we all began to relax. He asked about our living conditions, meals, mail delivery and trips to the company area. For each question we provided the operating procedures in place at that time. The general thanked us and when he got up to leave we once again snapped to attention. Once the General and battalion brass left we were sure we would get the third degree from the company officers and NCO's, but it didn’t happen. No one asked what we were talking with the general about. Within hours everything was back to normal, with the exception of the NPFF’s being at the outpost.

     During the following week everyone more or less forgot about the conversation we had with General Gustafson, except for those brief moments when we were sure that if he told anyone from battalion or company about what we discussed that we would all be on the short list for future shit details. Then suddenly the new SOP came down from company. It seems the general was sincere, our life at the outpost got better. Everything we talked with him about was changed. Now when each man came into the company one day a week he had the option of staying overnight. That means a hot shower and three hot meals with a sleep over in a bed with sheets. The mail would be delivered every day instead of once a week. From that point on I had a very healthy respect for General Gustafson, or as some of us now referred to him, "General Gus." He proved to this young enlisted man that he really did care about the welfare of his MPs.

From The Journal of CPL Thomas T. Watson, B Company, 720th MP Battalion, 89th MP Group, 18th MP Brigade, Long Binh, Vietnam, March 1968 to March 1969.