Stories

Hootie Hoo

While sitting on our asses, waiting for the Platoon Sergeant to come back from the First Sergeant's meeting with "The Word" -instructions for the next day and other non-essential information, the Scouts always watched TV in one of the bigger rooms. At that time of day the only thing worth watching was Gomer Pyle, USMC. The entire Scout Platoon became big fans. We knew Paratroopers just like Gomer Pyle. We could identify with his stupid ass.

During one of the episodes, Sergeant Carter placed Private Pyle at a forward post to provide early warning for the platoon during war games, with instructions to give a "Bird Call" if he saw the opposing force approaching. Gomer, of course, fell asleep. The "enemy" was within a few feet of him before he noticed. True to his orders, he sounded off loudly with the only bird call he knew, "Hootie-HOO!"

The next scene is Gomer, a furious Sergeant Carter, and the entire platoon captured by the bad guys.

Hootie-Hoo became the unofficial "Running Password" of the Scout Platoon. We use a running password to enter a secure area like an assembly area or an objective rally point when being chased by the enemy.

In 1983, on the Island of Grenada, my section was on ambush patrol. We moved slowly all day, making sure we were undetected. I conducted a leaders recon to find the perfect place along the designated trail and moved my team into position just before dark. We secured the flanks and rear, set up claymore mines, and positioned the machine gun for maximum grazing fire along the road. We switched the radio off and began the long wait.

If anyone came down that trail that night carrying a rifle, they were going to die.

Sometime in the night, the Platoon Leader got a call from Battalion headquarters ordering him to pull in my patrol. The 18th Airborne Corps Long Range Reconnaissance and Surveillance Detachment was lost, out of radio contact, and might have "drifted" into my area of operation. We didn't know the Corps had such a unit, nor could we guess why they were even on the island. If they were moving in the Jungle at night, they were stupid.

LT Jacques had to, somehow, pull me out. But how? He looked to Pigg.

Mitch Pigg was the best of us. He was great at everything we did and knew me better than anyone. He volunteered to move to my area and to see what he could do. It was damn heroic.

After conducting a good map recon, he chose what he thought my route would be and where he thought I would set up my Objective Rally Point. If he guessed correctly, he would be about 100 meters from me. Then he began moving his squad toward me, at night, through the Jungle.

A little after midnight, I heard a very soft Hootie-Hoo. I knew that it was Pigg.

I immediately passed the word, by whisper, to put firearms and Claymore clackers on Safe. I was taking no chances with my best friend's life or mine. I left my 2IC Bob Snelson in charge with a 5-point contingency plan and moved back toward the ORP, alone, "Hootie-Hooing" as I went.

As we got closer, we used the Scout Platoon long-range recognition signal and then confirmed as we got closer with the daily challenge and password.

I moved my squad back to the ORP for the rest of the night, consolidating with Mitch's section. We radioed the LT to confirm that my ambush was down and all hands were secure, thanks to long First Sergeant Meetings and Gomer Pyle, USMC.