Shotgun Volunteer
Yesterday the 15th marked exactly 56 years since I marched off to war, U.S. draftee style. Or I should say "shotgun volunteer" style. That was how they referred to men who had been called up for the Army but instead volunteered for one of the other services. I chose the Air Force. It was a decision that was all to the good.
The War, the Big One, the Second World War, was over, and I had thought that was the end of that. It was 1952 and some serious fighting had been going on in Korea for a year or more. But if that was also a war, it hadn't been declared by Congress, it was only called a "Police Action," and it was an unwelcome anomaly, because I had noticed that the real wars took place at 20 year intervals, so that the next one wasn't due till 1961 or longer, and I didn't know what to make of Korea. Anyway, all I could do was, as usual, just wait and see.
By that time I had also had more military training than the average recruit, because of having been in the high school cadets and in the Army ROTC. But that kind of thing had also had its day in my mind, and the Air Force did nothing to force me to take the military seriously again. I did everything they asked of me, without question and with application, and I got several letters of commendation along with a cigarette lighter engraved with my name, they sent me to interesting places where I wouldn't ordinarily have gone, and after four years I got out with lots of good memories and an honorable discharge. No fuss, no muss.
I mark that day when I boarded a train to go off to basic training in the frigid Finger Lakes region of New York state more than I do any other day in my existence. The day of my marriage and the day of my birth should trump it, but my marriage didn't change things nearly as much, and the date of my birth is just that, a date without a memory of any kind.
The War, the Big One, the Second World War, was over, and I had thought that was the end of that. It was 1952 and some serious fighting had been going on in Korea for a year or more. But if that was also a war, it hadn't been declared by Congress, it was only called a "Police Action," and it was an unwelcome anomaly, because I had noticed that the real wars took place at 20 year intervals, so that the next one wasn't due till 1961 or longer, and I didn't know what to make of Korea. Anyway, all I could do was, as usual, just wait and see.
By that time I had also had more military training than the average recruit, because of having been in the high school cadets and in the Army ROTC. But that kind of thing had also had its day in my mind, and the Air Force did nothing to force me to take the military seriously again. I did everything they asked of me, without question and with application, and I got several letters of commendation along with a cigarette lighter engraved with my name, they sent me to interesting places where I wouldn't ordinarily have gone, and after four years I got out with lots of good memories and an honorable discharge. No fuss, no muss.
I mark that day when I boarded a train to go off to basic training in the frigid Finger Lakes region of New York state more than I do any other day in my existence. The day of my marriage and the day of my birth should trump it, but my marriage didn't change things nearly as much, and the date of my birth is just that, a date without a memory of any kind.
posted by Carl (aka Sofarsogoo) | 9:58 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home