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The General's Birthday Cake '66
It wasn’t all “INCOMING!” and Viet Cong black pajamas, although there was more than enough of all that, heaven knows.
Human interest stories are a dime a dozen in the military experience, and the Vietnam War served up plenty. Everybody who was there has his/her own perceptions from all kinds of experiences and observations during those years. But, covered over by either the drama of the times or the dustbin of time too many stories remain untold. Let’s go back . . .
Within the first couple weeks of landing at Vung Tau, Vietnam in 1966, our brigade Headquarters Company mess tent went up in flames. For those blessed with designated hours and meals there at the time, the fire meant a new regimen of C-Rations;
C-Rations for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Not the first choice of Uncle Sam’s finest, although the Air Force people would trade almost anything for C-Rats.
SP4 Kluge at Cat Lai, Vietnam, 1967
With 528 square feet of living and/or storage space, the general-purpose-medium tent was the initial home and haven of all G.I. bodies and G.I. supplies at the time. The tents were lined up row after row in a muddy field that had been recently cleared of vegetation by Agent Orange and scraped clean and level, for the most part, by bulldozers. We were fortunate that only the mess tent was lost, and it and the ruined equipment inside were replaced in a few days.
I’m not sure anymore if the fire occurred before or after his birthday, but going-up-in-flames is the short summary of the general’s birthday party that year. Let me explain.
I’m not sure anymore if the fire occurred before or after his birthday, but going-up-in-flames is the short summary of the general’s birthday party that year.
We common troops, color me a Private First Class at the time, seldom saw the general in the flesh, but there came the day that he swept into the mess tent with his official entourage of field grade officers. He placed himself, alone, at the head of a four-man table. A handful of us happened to be walking by, and we soon found ourselves behind the open tent-flap in hopes of witnessing a general in action. We had no idea of the show about to begin.
For starters it didn’t take long for arguably the greatest jackass in the brigade to swoop in. Head cook he was; arrogant, cocky and mouthy, which may be redundant, but well earned, nevertheless. This ‘cookie’ had a habit of treating us common soldiers like grease spots. Not exactly a good plan, especially for an infantry brigade at war, complete with troops, munitions, and attitude. The general is busy being fawned over by his people, but it’s clear he knows what’s coming.
Cookie is making the most of presenting the general’s birthday cake by having it covered with a cloth. He is personally carrying it to the general’s table with a little tooty-fruity-ain’t-I-grand dance. The general takes it in, and it’s pretty clear from his demeanor that he is not impressed. With just a little more flourish and ill-suited panache the cook now places the cake in front of the general and flicks off the faux linen. A great surprise it is! A white frosted layer cake, but the surprise--to the general, at least, is that the highlight of the cake is a bright red star essentially covering the entire top. Does this birthday star bring joy and warmth to the general’s heart? Not so much.
Good guys and their armies have white stars; white stars on their trucks, on their planes, and on their tanks and virtually anything else that is American good-guy through and through. Bad guys, a.k.a. Communists; you know, the ones attempting to take over the world at the time, have red stars on their trucks, their planes and tanks and everything else. Good guys have white stars; bad guys have red stars.
The general exploded! Not literally, but he flushed red, ironically, and he yelled and carried on, causing the entire entourage to scamper about and try to appear as indignant as their leader. In no uncertain terms the cake and the cook were dispatched, again not literally, but the two were hastened as one out of the tent.
This little scenario remains vivid in my mind, and although the general and his staff were upset that day, the takeaway gain for us privates was that the arrogant ‘cookie’ was never seen again—at least not by any of us. The cake? Never saw that again either, although we common troops who never, either before or after, saw another layer cake in-country, would not have been too offended by it to trade a C-Ration meal for even a single slender slice.
Biographical Details
Submitted From: Northfield, MN
Primary Location During Vietnam: Saigon, Vietnam 
Story Subject: Military Service
Veteran Organization: none
Unit: 856th Radio Research Detachment
Specialty: 05G
Cat Lai, Vietnam, 1967
Story Themes: C-Rations, Food, III Corps
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