Driving for a General.

After I returned from West Germany in February 1980, I was sent back to Fort Hood, Texas. I still had more than a year to go on my enlistment, and I figured it would end at Fort Hood.

So, I continued working each day driving a five-ton tractor-trailer hauling ammunition around the base. My job consisted of driving to an ammunition salvage yard to load spent ammunition cartridges and take them to a dump on Fort Hood where I would unload them.

I hauled everything from white phosphorous rounds, .50 caliber bullets, hand grenades, M-16 bullets, etc., to the field training sites for live fire practices. Then personnel from the salvage yard would go with me to unload the shells.

I had been promoted to sergeant in December 1979 and life was good. I was a 20-year-old squad leader and managed nine men and 10 trucks in my squad. I had to make sure all maintenance requirements were met on the trucks every month to keep them operable daily. I was very meticulous when it came to the trucks and performed the maintenance too.

My uncle owned a trucking company, and I had been around trucks most of my life, so, this made the job easy for me. I used to go with him in high school and learned a lot about trucks before I joined the army.

However, one day I was unloading some white phosphorous rounds at the dump and one of the men from my motor pool drove up in a jeep and yelled at me to report to the Command Sergeant Major’s office immediately. I thought, oh man, what did I do now?

So, I unloaded the truck and drove it back to the motor pool, jumped in a jeep and drove up to III Corps Headquarters to see the Command Sergeant Major.

I was told by the front desk sergeant to sit in a room and wait for the Command Sergeant Major to come and get me. I noticed there were several other soldiers sitting in the room as well. They all had their uniforms pressed and starched and looked like they were ready for a uniform inspection. I had mud all over my uniform and was dirty from unloading trucks.

Suddenly a deep voice said, “Sergeant Craft, come on in.” It was Command Sergeant Major Jim Johnson. He said, “Have a seat.” He then sat and looked at some files. After a few minutes he looked up and said, “I was just looking over your driving record and it appears you have logged quite a few miles in trucks, more than anyone in your unit.”

I said, “Yes, I have Command Sergeant Major. That is what I do every day.”

At this point, I was not sure why I was in his office or why he was looking at my driving record. Then he looked up at me and said, “Do you know why you are here?”

I said, “No Command Sergeant Major.”

He said, “Well, this is an interview for a general’s driver and your platoon sergeant recommended you for this interview.”

I said, “Well, Sergeant Major, I am sorry, but I was not prepared for an interview because I was working in the field, and I have mud on my boots.”

He looked at me and laughed. Then he said, “Don’t worry about that. It just proves you are a working man.”

I said, “Yes, Sergeant Major.”

He began to tell me that I would be driving for the Deputy Post Commander, Major General David K. Doyle. He told me that I would be responsible for transporting the general and his aide Captain Benjamin Bell around the base, town, or wherever he had to go. He told me I would have to make sure the jeep, or the sedan was always ready to go when the general was ready to go.

Then he looked at me sternly and said, “Do you think you could do that?”

I said, “Yes, Sergeant Major I could.”

He leaned back in his chair and looked out the window for a few minutes and then turned to me and said, “Good, then I am selecting you for the general’s driver.” He said, “Do you think you could report here on Monday morning with a clean and pressed uniform?”

I said, “Yes, Sergeant Major I can.”

And that was that. I was hand selected for a job driving a two-star general around the base, town, and everywhere else that he might want to go. This would include at times driving him and his wife to events, etc.

The general was a short man about five feet, four inches tall. However, he was tenacious! He was a tank commander during Vietnam and had earned three Silver Stars, five Bronze Stars with “V” for valor and a Purple Heart for being wounded. He was also a very intelligent man, and I had a lot of respect for him. I truly enjoyed working for him. He was a very quiet man and did not say a lot, but when he did, you wanted to listen to what he had to say.

One day while driving around Fort Hood, the general asked me how old I was, and I told him. Then he started telling me a story about his tank driver in Vietnam. He told me that one day during a break from fighting they had stopped the tank in the jungle and were eating C-Rations, or food out of a can. His driver was 20 years old. The same age that I was at the time. He told me they were sitting there talking when a shot rang out, and a sniper shot his driver in the forehead killing him instantly. I didn’t know what to say. The general turned his head to the side for a few minutes, and it got very quiet. I could tell that it really hurt him. I am not sure why he told me that story, but he never mentioned it again.

He loved to play racquet ball, and I had to drive him to the gym every day during lunch so he could beat his aide in racquet ball. He was very competitive. The aide was six feet five inches tall but could never beat the general.

So, this was my job for the rest of my tour in the army. I kept the sedan and the jeep ready to go. I always knew the general's schedule in advance and the aide would let me know if anything came up. However, one day, I just waxed the sedan, and it had blue wax all over it and the general came running out to pick up his wife and go to an event. I knew nothing about this event and neither did the aide. So, the general surprised me. Here I was picking his wife up at his house in an army drab green sedan with blue car wax all over it. I never said a word and I kept looking in the rear-view mirror at the general to see if he was mad. He just gazed out the window.

When I got to the event and parked the car, the general said to me, “Well, at least you are taking care of the car.”

I said, “Yes sir.”

He took his wife by the arm and looked back at me and smiled before entering the building.

I felt very blessed to have worked for Major General David K. Doyle. He was a true soldier, patriot and warrior. He reminded me of an Audie Murphy type, short, small stature, smart and tenacious. He remained in the army for 33 years and became a Lieutenant General before retiring.

His wife, Jan Doyle, died on June 1, 2016. They had been married for 63 years. Lieutenant General David K. Doyle, died in Austin, Texas, on May 8, 2021, at the age of 89. He and his wife are buried in Arlington National Cemetery.