The Porters

I played in several rock groups in the 60s and 70s in Freeport, Illinois, my hometown, beginning the year I graduated from high school and extending over the next eight years, with the exception of two I spent in the Army.

My first band was the Rebels with my brother on drums. It lasted about a year until Dan, the bass player, went off to college. The next band lasted until I was drafted.

Shortly after returning home from the Army I was asked to join what became the most successful group I played with. They were the Porters--the name came from Freeporters, dropping the free part. Don Herbig, whom I played with in the Rebels, was on lead guitar, and I played rhythm. Tom Meinders was the main lead vocalist. Tom was from my high school class, and we grew up in the same Sunday School class. The bass player and drummer, respectively, were Denny Kuhl and Tony Cannova formerly of Freeport's most popular group in history, the Nomadds.

I learned the band's material and sang lead on about a third of the group's repertoire. The band's trademark was three-part harmony, and the band was popular and had quite a following. We played every weekend for about a year, and then Don Herbig enlisted in the Army because he was about to get drafted. (Enlisted soldiers had more choice over military assignments.) We couldn't find another lead guitarist, but we knew a keyboardist from another town who was willing to join. That meant that if the band were to continue, I would have to learn to play lead guitar.

I didn't work at the time, and spent many days sitting on my bed with my guitar on my lap listening to songs on the radio and others I'd recorded on a mono cassette recorder and trying to pick out individual lead notes and riffs. Slowly but surely I got the hang of it well enough for the band to resume practicing, and we went on as popular as ever.

The Porters, September 1970, Freeport, Illinois

Performing in Cuba City, Wisconsin in 1971

After about another year Denny Kuhl left the group to play bass with a country band. So we picked up the brother of our keyboard player to replace him, on the left in the above photo. I recorded the band's rehearsals as we were breaking in our new bass player. One of the songs we rehearsed one night in the basement of Tony Cannova's parents' home, was The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore by the Walker Brothers, a British group. Just before we played it, I pressed "record" on my mono cassette recorder. The result has become my all-time favorite recording of the Porters. Here it is with the talented Tom Meinders on lead vocals and me on guitar--the Gibson Les Paul Junior pictured above--and singing high harmony.

The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore

Army Photo Album

July 1968: Back from R&R in Japan with chopsticks in my pocket and an umbrella in my hands. I still have the chopsticks. The bunker belongs to my squad, and was used as a sleeping as well as fighting position.

Checking what's left of an enemy bunker after a battle involving a air strike. Note how the vegetation is most likely destroyed.

Members of my platoon hunkered down after a firefight--low enough to avoid becoming targets yet high enough to see what's going on. Except for the guy standing up on the left taking a leak.

Displaying a captured AK-47 from the back of our squad's armored personnel carrier (M113). I'm wearing new boots; my original pair had worn out. I wore that set of fatigues, the only one I had at the time, for about three months until they rotted off my body.

Firing my captured AK-47 on full automatic. Note my toes--the recoil is throwing me backward. In a year of combat I never fired my weapon in combat on full auto. I did this time only for a photo opportunity.

Three members of my squad waiting for darkness before embarking on an ambush patrol. I'm on the left wearing my normal combat equipment including four hand grenades and 16 magazines of M16 ammunition. Over my shoulder is a belt of M60 ammo for our machine gunner.

A medical evacuation (called dust off) of wounded soldiers following a firefight. Not a good day.

Each squad had an armored personnel carrier, and we always rode on top because of mines and RPGs. Drivers came from our infantry ranks. Crossing rice paddy dikes was a skill our drivers mastered--eventually--climb slowly, then balance on top before descending on the other side. Any deviation ended up with riders thrown to the ground.

My disassembled M16. At first we were issued the original M16s, which jammed frequently. The replacements, which we received in December 1967, were a lot better, but I still cleaned it every day. When sufficient time was available, I even took apart the trigger assembly, as shown.

A friendly poker game by soldiers recovering from wounds in our division base camp at Cu Chi. Note crutches along the wall, and the hint of a bandage on the chest of the soldier on the right, a friend named Bob Ordy.

The Black Virgin Mountain, Nui ba den in Vietnamese, dominated the skyline of our division's area of operations. With minor exceptions, it was the only rise in the landscape, and is etched forever in the memories of soldiers who fought in its shadow. Nui ba den, translated, means Black Lady Mountain. Occasionally we set up at the mountain's base, providing security for a company of engineers who worked there crushing rocks into gravel. I snapped this photo as we were leaving for an operation. The track (armored personnel carrier) behind us is maintaining the proper distance in this area where land mines and ambushes were a concern.

My platoon returning to our company perimeter (right) after a sweep during a hot afternoon. We relaxed as we approached safety, as can be discerned by the way weapons are carried. That's our lieutenant walking in front of the RTO (the guy who carried the radio). Both were prime targets if we made contact. To slay a dragon, chop off its head. Next, cut off communication.

Our company perimeter during the monsoon season from the air. Sandbag bunkers and tracks line the perimeter while the mortar platoon, HQ, and our company's cooks are on the inside. Although it appears haphazard and unruly, it was highly organized and effective.

Our company's chow line in the field. Stations are spread apart in the event of a mortar attack. Our chances of surviving such an attack increased if we were not clustered together.

An afternoon squad patrol while providing security for Tan Son Nhut Air Force Base.

In the rear recuperating from my fourth and last wound, the brass casing from an AK-47 round that penetrated to the bone in my arm during a battle on 19 August 68. I recovered full use of my arm after a month, and because I was due to return home shortly, didn't return to the field.

Military Me--On Point

In a Nutshell:  In May of 1967 I was drafted and for two years became a soldier in the US Army. After six months of training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri and subsequently Fort Polk, Louisiana, I flew to what was then South Vietnam to participate in ground action against Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army forces. I served with the second platoon of Charlie Company, 1/5 (Mech) Infantry, 25th Infantry Division--nicknamed Tropic Lightning. I went over as a private first class and eventually became a squad leader. I returned wearing sergeant stripes having been wounded on four occasions.

September 1968, Dau Tieng Basecamp, South Vietnam

On Point:  Given the above, one might surmise that I would have several anecdotes to share, and that hunch would be correct. I wrote extensively about my experiences in the military, and was fortunate to have it published in May 2000 by Presidio Press as a military memoir entitled On Point: A Rifleman's Year in the Boonies: Vietnam 1967 - 1968. The next year St. Martin's Press purchased paperback rights to the book. Shortly thereafter the large-print rights were bought by ISIS Publishing, located in Oxford, England, and they published hardback and paperback editions. The book won a Distinguished Book Award from the Army Historical Foundation, an organization dedicated to the preservation of the history of the American soldier. It also won the Stanley Larsen Award from the 25th Infantry Division Association, an organization comprised of veterans who served with the division.

Army Buddies:  Men at war form some of the closest bonds of society. I came home from Vietnam in 1968, and returned to civilian life in 1969 but to this day some of my closest friends are those from my Vietnam platoon or company. We keep in touch on an almost daily basis, which is wonderful.  

Citation of the Larsen Award

L to R: Presidio Press, St. Martin's Press, ISIS Publishing