Friday, August 23, 2019



TWENTY SIX YEARS FROM THE DOOR

I almost forgot about a very important anniversary last week.  Not a wedding or something common like that, but the day I was inducted into the US Army.  August 15thback in the old days.
A friend of mine worked at the draft board and called to tell me she had pulled my name and sent me the “Greetings from your friends and neighbors” letter. I had three days to come up with an alternative.  Viet Nam was raging and people were getting severely killed over there and I did not want to be one of them.
A friend of mine and I went to the Navy recruiting station.  We walked in and there was a man sitting behind a desk reading a newspaper.  We could see his hands but everything else was covered by the paper.  After a minute and a ‘scuse me, he finally spoke.  “Can I help you?” Newspaper still in place. “Uh, yes, we’re thinking about joining the Navy.”  From behind the paper, “Got a college degree?”  I stammered, “no sir, but…”  Before I could finish telling him my outstanding qualifications, he simply said, “try the Marines next door.  They’re taking anybody.”  We left having never actually seen anything but his hands.
Being barely a high school graduate, I waited for the letter to drop and decided to join the Army the day before I got it.  Better to choose an easy job than get stuck in the Infantry, the recruiter said.  I don’t even remember what I selected. Probably something like sheet folding or mess kit repair or basket weaving, things that I later learned were just code words for “this idiot thinks he’s smarter than I am, so I’ll put him in the Infantry.”
After going through the physical and mental and a variety of other test at the induction center it was time to raise my right hand.  Over 200 of us were herded into a large room and put in some sort of order. Those who had been in ROTC in high school (not me) knew how to stand and took great pride in doing so.  Finally, a Marine Lieutenant Colonel came in, the door was closed and two VERY large Military Policemen stood in front of it. He took the podium and announced in a voice that could be heard in Moscow, said “Raise your right hand and repeat after me.”  After he administered the oath, he leaned across the podium and in an equally loud voice said, “Now…if any of you sons of bitches think you ain’t in the Army because you didn’t repeat after me, just you try and walk out that door.”  The man had a way with words.
It took twenty six years (in the Infantry…who knew) , two combat tours during Viet Nam, more separations, moves, schools, temporary deployments, good jobs, bad jobs, good people, bad people and memories for me, my wife and two daughters than any of us could have expected, and it was time to retire.  
My boss, a two star general said he would read my retirement order and I refused to let him  We had a very serious and adult, albeit, one-way conversation about how if I wasn’t retiring things would not be so good for me, etc. etc.
I asked a Marine Lieutenant Colonel in my office to read it.  I explained why and I finally got to walk out that door.

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