

© Michael 'Deaky' Baron von Berg MC
Platoon Commander Recce Platoon
1st Tour
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Coming
back from Vung Tau on a lazy afternoon in a
somewhat hazy alcohol induced state on a rare
but enjoyable excursion there was an
unexplainable determination that the platoon
should have a mascot for the duration of time in
country. In the lead vehicle, a Land Rover
with some equally relaxed and inebriated members
of the platoon, a farmer with a sow and some
cute little piglets was noticed just outside the
village of Hoa Long. The period was March 1967,
some six weeks before we were to hand over to
7RAR and return to Australia. Many more
intellectual colleagues may have read Margo
Fallis and Cedric the Pig, or Freddy the Pig
by Walter R Brooks, but at that time, due to the
rather insular and limited reading interests the
information on pigs in war comics or Playboy
magazine, or on all things porcine were rather
limited. What was known, pigs were highly
intelligent, loyal and as an animal quiet clean
which was somewhat of a surprise. An excellent
choice for a platoon pet it was thought.
Alighting from the vehicle to barter with the
farmer which must have been intriguing trying to
converse in inadequate and inebriated Vietnamese
bar talk, but as in all societies, a handful of
Vietnamese Piasters, (which was the bar
excursion residue) with lots of gesturing and
hand language seemed to resonate enough to
purchase the piglet. How much was paid nobody
can recall but it was a fistful of the local
currency which must have excited him enough to
do the deal. The additional purchase of a rice
sack in which to contain the little creature
relieved another handful of local currency.
Proceeding back inside the wire and down to the
lines all and sundry played with the little
fellow near the boxing ring behind our tents.
Some may have forgotten or not known of this
magnificent gladiatorial construction which saw
some hilarious moments. It was never constructed
for any altercations between members of the
platoon or anyone else; purely a fitness regime
which most enjoyed. But what to do with
the piglet and most importantly if you are going
to have a platoon mascot it must have a "name"
mustn’t it?
It took the platoon an earth shattering and
truly awe inspiring intellectual challenge of
some 30 seconds to come up with the "name". Not
one to speak ill of the dead and sure the
deceased that this refers to will be looking
down having a bit of a chuckle, it was the
unanimous decision of the platoon to call the
piglet "Wormald" after our esteemed CSM WO2
Rosslyn Claude Wormald because of his ample
girth and nickname and this is the name
that stuck with the little fellow during the
time that he spent with the platoon.
The next major decision was where the little
chap was to be domiciled and that call was made
by the members of the platoon in the next earth
shattering 30 seconds. "Skip you bought the
bloody thing now you live with it!”. In one
minute we had a name and a home for the little
fellow. What a considerate and concerned pack of
bastards! It was decided the best place for him
was my weapon pit and that's where the little
guy spent most of his time when not being
trained like a working dog. He used to follow me
and others around the lines just like a dog and
one of the amusing things that we would do is to
position at the top of the lines near John
McAloney's tent in the Assault Pioneers lines
and the piglet would be held by Dogs Kearney or
Blue Mulby at the bottom end of the road near
the Sigs lines where we would call to him not by
his name (that would be disrespectful to the
CSM) but simply as you would any working
dog "here pig, pig, pig, pig" where the pig
would gallop up the road which some of you may
recall had a slight incline and jump into the
callers arms. The CSM would open the tent flap
to survey the scene but equally quickly close,
not having to witness the event. Perhaps it had
something to do with the working dog, pig call?
Members of the platoon would also put some
webbing on the poor little bloke and walk around
the lines, or the little chap would just lay in
the sun under the rubber trees behind the tents.
He really was well behaved and quiet domiciled.
Forever grateful that during this period there
was no serious activity of
*"The
Binh Ba Ten Thousand"*
or being subject to a mortar attack because the
weapon pit was somewhat disheveled with old food
residue and pig crap throughout.
We were all still on operational activities so
we drew up a roster to look after "Wormald” for
the guys who were on rear details and he was fed
copious volumes of scraps from the OR's Mess. He
prospered far better with us than at his local
village and he grew very fond of us as we did of
him. The 7RAR guys who came over on the advance
party and stayed with us were rather shocked and
surprised as to our mascot which they
immediately claimed as their own. I must
confess, purchasing the piglet had absolutely
nothing to do with 7RAR and the fact that their
mascot was a pig. We didn’t know this at the
time but when it came to hand over the
operational duties to the 7RAR "Pigs" it was
just too good an opportunity to miss.
The artistic creativity within our platoon never
ceased to amaze. Bob "van Gogh" Kearney (it must
have something to do with the ears) and some of
the guys proceeded to paint the piglet with
black and gold tiger stripes for the farewell
dining in night and to hand over to 7RAR the
next morning. I might add that Bob never forgave
the CSM, based on some very questionable
circumstantial evidence, in charging him over
the "Thanksgiving Ham" incident where the
remnants of this considerable feast were
discovered in the garbage can outside Bob’s
tent. Although all enjoyed the spoils, Platoon
Commander included, Bob was not the culprit who
absconded with the sizeable ham from the OR’s
Mess cool room. It can now be revealed someone
else in the platoon perpetrated this heinous
crime (who many years later confessed this
whilst laughing hysterically and uncontrollably
on the floor at a Platoon reunion) aided and
abetted by one of the OR mess cooks who used to
dance and talk like Zorba the Greek and those of
you close to Support Company will know exactly
who this is/was. The entire piglet episodes,
naming it, calling out to it and now painting it
was in Bobs mind the “Piece de Resistance” to
square up for that miscarriage of and in
retrospect some poetic justice.
The night of the farewell dining in night was
always going to be a wild affair. Let’s face it
why should the officers tone down from the usual
wild dining in nights where casualties were
sustained, individuals found sleeping it off in
the strangest of locations and let’s not forget
the crazy and completely irresponsible call
“over the top” of that rickety second world war
poor excuse of a tent, where unsteady and in
some cases ungainly officers roped up one side
and freely fell down the other side to the
ground. What a wonderful CO and PMC to ignore
these crazy antics from a deranged bunch of
young officers which at times included an
equally deranged bunch of company commanders and
the CO’s own executive team. Shit could you
imagine it in today’s Army? Not likely!
The night of the dinner started in sombre enough
mood. After all, there was extreme sadness at
leaving, (what the hell were we on?) but that
really was the feeling in a way, because it was
the last time that this incredible bunch of
officers, who had shared so much and lost a
great part of its officer corps through battle
casualties, would be dining together as the
Tiger Battalion. That sadness however quickly
dissipated to concentrate on the more
mischievous plans for the evening. Max Carroll
the Dining President that night and
appropriately so, his guitar in tow and
recollection of events on that night is vivid.
Let’s face it how many Dining Presidents in the
history of the Army in a war zone have had a pig
invade the hallowed sanctum of an officers
dining in night? Not many, and that's why this
event now so many years later, is still
remarkably clear. Managing to crawl out from
under the table, as had been done at many
similar such events mainly to have a quiet pee,
(remember it was forbidden to leave the table
unless permitted to do so) the pig was brought
up to the back of the mess by members of the
platoon and passed under the tent flap. Crawling
back to the dining place under the tables trying
to keep the little bugger quiet because he knew
something was up, but quiet he remained until he
was released under the table and that's when the
commotion of commotions started. Not many in the
mess knew about the pig except John McAloney.
John was considered to be a bit of a goody good
shoes back in Holsworthy until we were platoon
neighbours at Nui Dat and was delighted and
enlightened as to his true character on our R&R
trip together to Hong Kong. Talk about a “silent
assassin” but more of that later. As a matter of
interest and pride, I was very privileged to be
John’s best man for his marriage in Perth and
still saddened to lose such a good man so young.
The pig totally startled by the gathering of
strangers ran about squealing, snorting,
grunting, spluttering, oinking as pigs are wont
to, which at first was met with surprise and a
curious silence but when it was seen to be a
little pig with tiger stripes that obviously had
a fond affection and connection with the
officers of 7RAR it sort of brought the house
down. Once the little chap had completed his
porcine performance we caught him and gave him
back to the blokes to take back to the lines.
But that was not the end of the evening. Some of
you may not recall but on that evening Assault
Pioneers and the "silent assassin" not to be
outdone by Recce Platoon and its pig loving
team, let off a bloody charge just to the
outside of the officers mess which had some but
in particular the new 7RAR officers somewhat
perplexed and that’s putting it mildly. Typical
bloody pioneers calculate what is required
minutely and then bugger it, double it! Well
they did a good job and I recall John McAloney
absolutely pissing himself with laughter where
he too had made his mark on that last dining in
night.
The
next day was a more sober affair where the pig
was officially handed over to the CO 7RAR by our
beloved CO who if you look at the photograph
carefully, the expression on John Warr's face is
a mischievous smile and a wicked glint in his
eyes and Eric Smith's facial expression is one
of "oh shit, what do I do with it". The
photograph as matter of interest was taken by
one of the Recce diggers Dennis Mills, who lives
in Adelaide.
Anecdotal evidence suggests that CO 7 RAR was
not totally impressed by the entire pig episode
and even less so the subsequent CO of 7 RAR on
the second tour who tried to expunge any
reference to an association of pigs and 7RAR.
Very pleasingly “soldier power” prevailed and
now the pig is a part of that Battalion's proud
history and traditions as it should be and a
small but eventful part of ours.
Sadly, we are not aware of what happened to
"Wormald" after we left country but hopefully he
had a good full life and sustained many. It is
suggested he had a far better existence even in
a war zone with us, than some of the poor
creatures of today, farmed in the confines of a
six by four cage inside a smelly shed with no
sunlight or natural fresh fodder.
The pig in a small way was a poignant symbol of
the culture, character, mischief and humorous
community spirit of our Battalion but in
particular during those last eventful days of
the Tiger Battalion's first tour to Vietnam.
Nobody can ever forget or take that away!
*Note:
'The Binh Ba Ten Thousand', was dubbed by
Captain Bob Milligan, second in command of C
Company, that whenever Intelligence suggested an
attack on the base was likely, it was sufficient
merely to pass the word, 'the Binh Ba Ten
Thousand is on tonight', and the appropriate
precautions would be taken.
*O'Neill R.
J. (1968), Vietnam Task, Melbourne,
Cassell Australia Ltd p70.
*Paragraph seven:
http://www.5rar.asn.au/ops/holsworthy.htm
TALES FROM THE TIGER
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