Tribute to Bill Davenport
Written by Glyn Haynie
Written by Glyn Haynie
Bill was unmarried when he arrived at the first platoon. It didn’t take him long to prove himself to the squad and platoon. He always had the biggest smile on his face. Bill was fun and always made you smile and laugh. He had a great sense of humor, and it took no time for us to develop a friendship. Bill became the assistant machine gunner for Alabama and performed his job well.
After Bill was wounded, January 14, 1970, and recovered from his wound, he replaced me in my rear job at Chu Lai (Combat Center). We roomed together for several weeks before I went home and had a great time together.
I recounted an incident that involved Bill in July 1969, while on an ambush:
As the sun dropped behind the horizon, Bill told me he had to go potty. Bill was from Washington, my height but heavier, with blond hair, and the biggest smile you ever saw. He was always joking and using words such as “potty” for “going to the bathroom” or “dindin” for “dinner.” My first reaction was “Hell, no” because he needed to go outside the perimeter. He insisted, so I let him go.
Fifteen minutes later, nearly dark, branches of the overgrown vegetation moved to our right front. We tensed up, ready for an NVA patrol to move on us. Then we heard, in English, “Friendly, friendly, friendly coming in.” It was Bill returning with his hands in the air as if to surrender. The look on Bill’s face as he saw us ready to fire was worth letting him go out. We stifled our laughter to avoid making too much noise. Mike and I looked at each other with huge smiles, acknowledging that it was Bill!
After Bill was wounded, January 14, 1970, and recovered from his wound, he replaced me in my rear job at Chu Lai (Combat Center). We roomed together for several weeks before I went home and had a great time together.
I recounted an incident that involved Bill in July 1969, while on an ambush:
As the sun dropped behind the horizon, Bill told me he had to go potty. Bill was from Washington, my height but heavier, with blond hair, and the biggest smile you ever saw. He was always joking and using words such as “potty” for “going to the bathroom” or “dindin” for “dinner.” My first reaction was “Hell, no” because he needed to go outside the perimeter. He insisted, so I let him go.
Fifteen minutes later, nearly dark, branches of the overgrown vegetation moved to our right front. We tensed up, ready for an NVA patrol to move on us. Then we heard, in English, “Friendly, friendly, friendly coming in.” It was Bill returning with his hands in the air as if to surrender. The look on Bill’s face as he saw us ready to fire was worth letting him go out. We stifled our laughter to avoid making too much noise. Mike and I looked at each other with huge smiles, acknowledging that it was Bill!