Dreighton Rosier

My role in the MARS station on board the Colleton was indirect.  One of my responsibilities, in addition to my "day job" as Communications Officer on the commissioning crew, was rec officer.  In that role, I had control over the ship's recreation funds generated by the ship's store.

There was a good bit of revenue from the store, a lot actually, but the Army had the larger population and, rightly so, the lion's share went to the Army.

The skipper (LCdr. Floyd Banbury) wanted to do 4 things for the crew with the rec money:

1. Cruise Book

2. Ship's party

3. MARS station on board

4. An occasional beer party on the pontoon (officially "the beach" for much of our time)

My challenge was, that I had about $2,000 with which to work all of those, and each of them would cost about $2,000 over the 8 months I had left on tour.

With the help of the battalion Sergeant Major, we came on a solution that worked very well for all of us.  He had control over two ATF, we called them Fast Attack Tugboats.  I had control over the money.  He had a source in Saigon for beer, variously San Miguel, Oly, Hamms, Bud...

Once a month he had his ATFs make a beer run to Saigon, bringing back 3,000 cases of beer.  Sergeant Major and I had a great working relationship.

The first time the battalion came back from search and destroy ops, they sort of tumbled into the ship and tossed their mud into the ship's laundry, in hopes there might still be some uniforms still encased in there.  One scary problem was discovered when the laundry dudes started hearing clunks and rattles from the washers and dryers.  The mud still held not only uniforms, but a lot of ammo too - rifle rounds, grenades, the stuff the guys carried on their field ops.

The next time they returned to the ship, there were (3 is my memory) stations on the pontoons - the first was for the field ops people to drop off their ordnance.  After that, stripped off most of their uniforms, next they were hosed down, and the last step was to hand each two cans of beer, or cold soda for those that did not drink.

For the Navy guys, I had to solve the money problem.  In the regular beer parties for the ship's crew, we sold the beer for 5¢ each.  Very quickly, I had enough cash to pay for every thing, and about $1,000 left for future projects when my relief reported aboard.  This is where it gets a bit entertaining.  I had never received any training, instruction or manuals for being rec officer, so I had no idea of books or accounts.  What I did have was a cash box, my desk safe, that I used for the crew's money.  Since I had so little of my own, I kept my cash in a different safe place.  The point being, there were no account records or such because I had no idea about accounting practices; I was a math and science major, never a business course.

When I got cash, I counted it, put it in my safe, and adjusted the total of my running cash amount.  As bills came arose, if there was enough money in the rec account with supply, they would write a check.  If not, I paid for it from the cash box.  When it was time for me to turn everything over to the new rec officer was the first time anyone cared enough about what I was doing.  The Supply Officer was a bit of a martinet, and he tried to give me a hard time.  He attempted to explain what a "T account" is and how it is used.  He quickly became frustrated and started drawing Ts.  His future would not be in education, I hope.  After a bit, he looked me in the eye and told me I was going to prison.  I managed to hold back the guffaws, but I must have gotten a look on my face that said a lot more.  Whatever, he did not bother me again after that.

If I remember correctly, I turned the rec operation, including the $1,000±, to the junior supply officer.  With the penurious guidance of the senior supply officer, I am sure he put things right with the rec fund accounting records.  One of their big hang-ups was their preoccupation with an opinion that the rec fund is not supposed to make a profit, so they scheduled a few free beer parties to burn the "extra cash".  Where they planned to get the cash when the new captain wanted to do more for the crew than the rec fund would pay, I have no idea, but I assume the supply officers are the Navy's financial wizards, all I was at the time was a math major from LSU who had some idea of coping.

Needless to say, no one but the supply officer was interested in any kind of action against me over the accounting records; in fact, the only thing I ever heard from those among the officers and crew that said anything was thanks for making so little go so far.

Epilog:  In my professional career as a benefits actuary, I had occasion to learn quite a bit about the taxation of trusts.  There was no official trust for the rec fund, but it is the same type an operation as a (Internal Revenue Code section) 501(c)(3) foundation, in substance.  Tax exempt trusts are taxed on their UBTI, or unrelated business taxable income, where "unrelated business" is the compound reference.  The only income the rec fund had was from selling beer, clearly a function directly related to the rec fund mission.  Every penny raised in that activity was plowed back into other projects for the moral of the crew, and the other folks aboard ship - the battalion - to some extent, as they used the MARS station too, at least that is my memory.

So there it is, as best as I remember the facts.  There are some other stories, most of them beyond the rec fund, but for another day.

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