Settling in at my new job, and today I took my first paid day off. I get two entire weeks of paid vacation. It’s a breath of fresh air. It’s use-it-or-lose-it time. Napa won’t pay it out—they actually want you to take time away from work. So this is the final day of my 3-day weekend. I was originally planning on going to a museum today... but I learned that a lot of them are closed on Monday. So I bumped it to Saturday instead—which turned out to be a whole journey of its own.
Saturday morning was an internal struggle bus. Shelby was on a mini road trip with a friend and our dog. So I was solo. The world is my oyster kinda deal. Shelby did tell me I was not allowed to take the four-hour back road trip to Wendover without them, so it was kind of my oyster. Maybe after a bit more maintenance on the Jeep, I will take that trip on.
I had all the grand plans in mind. I might stop at the Park Café after the museum and get food. I was too late for McDonald’s breakfast. I really wanted coffee. I looked at Google Maps to survey what path I was taking to my destination for the day.
Beans and Brew sounded good. It sounded familiar and reliable. I knew what I was getting into with Beans and Brew. But it was out of my way. It was in the wrong direction of travel. So I looked at the map again and found an Einstein’s Bagel along the way. I do love a good bagel. But I wanted Beans and Brew coffee... but it was out of the way... Yes, this was really my Saturday morning thought process and internal monologue.
Finally, I told myself this is my Saturday. If I want to go out of my way to get some Beans and Brew then fuck it, it's not out of the way—it's part of my adventure. When I got off of that struggle bus, I got dressed for the day.
After my shower, I sat on the bed for a few minutes, staring into the abyss—as one often does after a good rinse. It’s safe to stare into the abyss, as long as you have your towel. That’s an important fact.
I selected from Spotify a Vietnam-era playlist because I was off to look at some tanks today. I made it outside to the Jeep wearing some nice pants, a tucked-in gray polo, and my look at fucking me bright red shoes that Shelby got for me. I also wore my signature green Walmart zip-up hoodie with my name on the front and a B-17 on the back.
Now that I was dressed in my awkward nerd attire, I was ready to go. Windows down and Vietnam jams up, I hit the road—heading away from the museum and right to Sapp Bros for some coffee, a breakfast sandwich, and gas for the Jeep. Too many dollars later, the Jeep was full, I was fed, and I had a super-size caffeinated drink to enjoy for my journey. I skipped the highway and opted for surface streets. Surface streets offer the best opportunity to spot random places one must simply just check out. No such opportunity took me off of my main mission this time around.
It’s not every day one gets to come face to face with history. Yes, we can read about it, watch videos, movies, and listen to podcasts. But to see it, touch it, and be in the presence of it—that’s an experience. Photos are amazing, but one does not fully grasp the size of a Sherman tank until one is standing in front of it. It’s astounding how large a tank is in person. It’s humbling to think that five men lived, fought, and tried to survive inside this steel beast. The Sherman was not the best tank, but in a game of numbers, we could make more than our adversaries. Necessity is the mother of invention, and we needed these weapons of war to defeat a terrible evil.
This museum is not just the history of the fort. It is Utah's official military museum. It’s a long history that started in October 1862, built from nothing by the hands of the volunteer army during the Civil War. It was even home to a regiment of Buffalo Soldiers for a time. The Utah natives were at first not the most welcoming of the fort, being staffed by Buffalo Soldiers. But in the end, those fine men left a mark on history here.
During WWI, the fort was used to house German Navy prisoners of war. The building that the museum resides in was, at one point, a hospital for those POWs. Some might even say a few of them are still in the building. Take a look at this short video that gives a peek at the supernatural side of this location.
Fort Douglas has a few tricks up its sleeve for visitors—besides tanks, that is. I got to admire a Huey helicopter that had served in Vietnam. Not a general statement. The helicopter on display actually served in that war. The Huey was basically the Jeep of the air. It was armed. It was used to pick up and drop off troops from remote locations. It helped evacuate wounded soldiers. And when called upon, it dispensed justice with its door gunners.
One of my uncles was a door gunner, and he served a few more tours than required. Even more shocking when you realize that the average life span of a door gunner in Vietnam was just two weeks. Helicopter crews accounted for 10% of all casualties in Vietnam.
For the first time ever, I got to see a Cobra attack helicopter in person. It was a pleasant surprise—and even more surprising just how narrow they are. The Cobra fleet racked up over a million hours of service in Vietnam. They served from 1967 until the last one was withdrawn from U.S. military use in 2001.
I did not have “seeing a part of the World Trade Center” on my Saturday schedule—but yet again, the museum delivered. Fort Douglas is home to Utah's Fallen Warrior Memorial, which includes a piece of the slurry wall from the original World Trade Center site. I got to see a moving and historic piece of home—something that called to my New England roots.
It was an unexpected emotional tie to a long-distant memory of watching the second aircraft strike the World Trade Center live on TV. That memory eventually led me to become a firefighter and gave me the honor of serving with some 9/11 survivors.
At the start of the tour, you learn about the early days of Fort Douglas—the first buildings on the site and those who built them. The exhibit continues chronologically with an impressive array of artifacts from each era. This is where I first learned about the Buffalo Soldiers stationed in Utah.
After covering the history of the fort, the museum branches out to touch on every branch of military service—from Coast Guard to Air Force and everything in between.
There’s a truly impressive collection of weapons and helmets from all major conflicts. The Japanese Type 99 rifle always draws me in when I find one behind glass. I’ve owned and shot these firearms before. On the Type 99 rifle, the emperor's seal is stamped on the chamber. If a soldier was to surrender his weapon, he was supposed to file off the seal to avoid dishonoring the emperor.
To see a Type 99 rifle with the seal still intact is usually a dead giveaway that the firearm before you wasn’t surrendered—but was, in fact, a war prize taken from someone who had been removed from this plane of existence.
Almost all the foreign firearms—and even an impressive selection of field artillery—had been captured. And that artillery wasn’t just captured; it was put to use against the very forces it came from. That’s a very prolific “fuck you” that not many ever accomplish in a lifetime.
Fort Douglas is located at 32 Potter St, Fort Douglas, Utah 84113. It’s open to the public Tuesday through Saturday, 10 AM to 4 PM. It’s free to tour the museum, but donations are always welcome.
While a military history museum might not be everyone’s cup of tea, it’s worth a visit. Even if you’re not into tanks or tactics, there's something grounding about being in the presence of these artifacts—reminders of the people, the stories, and the sacrifices that shaped the world we live in today.
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