US ARMY Chapter 1

“GREETINGS”

“This is to inform you that you have been selected to report August 23, 1951” letter arrived in July 1951 and I was not happy. I had just finished RIT on June 9th with a degree in Photo Finish Management, Color Chemistry, and Retail Management. I married the first and only love of my life and the smartest, most beautiful girl in the whole world on June 16, 1951 and had a new job in Richmond, Virginia. I didn’t want to shoot Koreans and have them shoot back at me. This was inconvenient in timing, and I really can’t say how I really felt due to obscenity laws. Let’s just jump right into the worst two years of my life. I did learn a lot from the experience and the benefits are on going. I am always invited to stand up at the 4th of July concerts when they play the Army battle song-“Over the river and through the woods.”

At the end of August, I reported to the Alexandria, Virginia, recruiting center for the physical, and induction ceremonies. I was surprised to have two boys from The University (UVA) in line with me. The Marines were taking a percentage of us for their needs, and-when we had to do pull-ups and pushups-I decided then not too do any well enough to pass the Marine requirements. Phew! I raised my right hand and solemnly swore to defend us all in the Army. In short order we were leaving on a train from the Alexander station where we had the opportunity to buy donuts and coffee for a nickel each from the Red Cross.

Our train was a troop train, nearly full with sad wide-eyed young men from the south. Our wood train coach, built about 1862, had wood bench seats and a pot-bellied stove at one end. Just like the ones I had seen on the movie screen during the war moving prisoners to the gas chambers. I was living a war movie. Comfort was not the Army’s way, and the train was full of new draftees and a few enlistees. We got no food or water until we stopped at a station in New Jersey where the Salvation Army had free toilet kits for each man: coffee, sandwich, donuts, and two apples as a gift met us. I have never forgotten that Army of Salvation, and it still is the best run Army in the world. I wondered if I could have served in the Salvation Army.

Fort Dix, our first stop, was a very large staging area for new inductees. We were marched to the mess hall for our only meal that day about 9:30 PM. That mess was huge and operated 24 hours a day due to the continuous arrival of inductees. The Korean War was in full swing, and the need was great for that war and the occupation Army in Europe and Japan. After food we were hustled off to our barracks and a bunk. I was too tired to think, but we had a nearly vacant barracks.

In the morning when I opened my eyes, in the next bunk was a face that belonged to William (Bill) Williams my first roommate at UVA. The barracks had filled to the brim during the night with bodies. Bill said when he saw me in that bunk, he felt more at home. He was called out shortly after breakfast and I never saw him again. We got our issue of uniforms: two wool dress uniforms, two sets fatigues, one wool shirt, two sets of summer weight uniforms, two pair boots, one pair dress shoes, two wool and two cotton caps, and summer and winter socks. We mailed our “civvies” back in a box, an act that really told me I was where I didn’t want to be.

I had night KP in the kitchen and quickly learned how to be a professional goof-off. We reported to the Mess Sgt. for assignments and-as he went down the line giving out one bad job after the other-I saw a broom, grabbed it before he got to me, and went outside to sweep the loading dock which was the coolest place to be before air conditioning. A mess hall in operation 24 hours a day never cools off so it was too hot to eat inside, much less work. I pretended to sweep that dock all night long without ever touching the broom to the deck. Night work was cooler than day work, and it was easy to get lost in the dark. A clipboard and pencil was a very good prop and could keep me out of service for days. Just keep walking and writing. It was better than washing pots and pans or mopping floors inside that hot mess hall.

The next morning after three hours sleep, we reported to our next big event. We went for testing and interviews to see where we were best suited to be placed as an active duty soldier. I went to sleep during the testing and got a special exemption for retesting due to being on duty the night before. That gave me an opportunity to be tested and interviewed with a few others. We all did well since the personnel were not busy and had more time to spend on each of us. My interviewer was a new young Lieutenant shrink just starting his tour and was not happy with his assignment. He was an amateur photographer wanting to photograph antique furniture he collected but didn’t want stains to show. (This was before color photography was invented.) I told him which color filter to use with black and white film to not show the blemishes but would bring out the grain of the wood. He was thrilled and we talked for a long time about everything under the sun. Finally he said he would give me a priority assignment in photography and no one would be able to change it. He did, and they didn’t. I was priority assigned as a Signal Corps Photographer.

I didn’t know it at the time, but God was in charge of my life even then. I thought it was luck-a toss of the dice, and fate at the time-but now I know there is no such thing as luck.

Camp Gordon, Georgia was the Signal Corp basic training post for everything Signal.

The train going south was hot and crowded. Many were sick from the motion. The train stopped somewhere in North Carolina for two hours while the mess car was attached. It didn’t help the sickness when we went back to eat from the mess car. The food was terrible and all I could think about was that some draftees would spend two years cooking on this troop train. Korea or being run over by a pastry truck would be better than a cook on a troop train. Our train stopped some three hours later to detach the mess car. Those poor cooks had to travel back and forth on that hot stinking kitchen and eat their own food. Yuck!

It took us 20 hours to get to Augusta, Georgia, and Camp Gordon. I realize now that the Army method is to indoctrinate the troops to the worst experience first; so all the rest of the bad would be better than the first few days. It worked too.

DENTISTS I HAVE KNOWN

Chapter 1

My first dental experience was most memorable. I had a cavity in a baby tooth molar that hurt when I chewed bubblegum or ate ice cream. Dad took me to the dentist within walking distance in Clarendon,
VA. The dentist office was on the second floor above the drugstore. It was a hot summer day, and the office was steaming hot. This was in the day without air-condition and insulation in attics. So hot was hotter then than now. A little like going up in the attic at 2:30 PM on a hot sunny day in August to work on the automatic attic ventilator.

The dentist was an old man with gray hair and glasses. The chair was a wood barber chair with a headrest, and I sat on a box. The drill was a series of belts and pulleys and, how fast the dentist peddled determined the speed of the drill. That day I learned old men couldn’t peddle fast. Try to peddle with a foot and keep your hand steady at the same time. Rinsing out the mouth consisting of a glass of water and a pan. I wonder if he ever washed the glass or pan? Novocain hadn’t been invented, so I endured the pain like a small child in total fear.

After the first trip with Dad, I went by myself without support up those hot steps to see Dr. Pain. I could cry going and coming but not in the office. That was where I learned going is a longer distance than coming home.

I think Mother must have gone one time to Dr. Pain and decided she would find another dentist with an electric drill, and running water. Thank God for moms of little boys.

The next dentist was in DC on Vermont Ave one block North of K Street. We would take the Arnold Line Bus downtown on Saturday. The new dentist had electric drills, plush adjustable chairs, and a spit bowl beside the chair with water swirling around to wash out the blood and bone into the DC sewer. I’m sure Novocain was invented about this time so the dentist appointments were a piece of cake. Being stuck with a needle was nothing compared to Dr. Pain. They even had dental assistants and reception ladies. Something new?

Brother Bud had braces with the rubber bands. His teeth were harder than mine, so he never had the fillings I had.

I had the honor of being drafted into the US Army and served in Nuremberg, Germany in the occupation Army. My dental experience was not good. I had a filling fall out and the dentist was not happy about his day. He was probably drafted too. The dental clinic was part of US Army Nuremberg Military District Hospital. The dentist turned on his drill and bore down on my tooth without stopping until the drill went through my tooth. I yell at him, “What have you done?” He said, “Come back tomorrow and I’ll have to pull it.” I said, “I don’t think you will ever touch me again. I’m going to see General Hughes right now about this.”

General Hughes was one of my customers. I was an Official Army Photographer and photographed General Hughes handing over the keys and cutting red ribbons to every small to large hospital to the Germans in his district that the Army built and supplied. (Part of the Marshall Plan.) I went back the next day for the tooth pulling of the botched tooth, and heard that the mad dentist was transferred out of Germany. He must
have had lots of complaints beside mine.

Our next dentist was Dr. Starbuck in Arlington. Dr Starbuck was a Kiwanis Club friend of Dad. He was a real character with a beautiful wife and beautiful kids. I guess he was a good dentist, but he had a hand problem with female patients according to My Honey. We then went to Dr. Blevins in Arlington and a Kiwanis member. We later heard Starbuck wondered from his own bed, and ended in a messy divorce. He lost his Chesapeake Bay vacation home, boat and kids. Couldn’t happen to a better guy.

When we had three kids in collage at the same time, we went to Georgetown Dental Clinic. That was a great experience for us. We only paid for supplies used. The student dentists were of every type. They were very good but slow since they had to get approval from a faculty dentist after each step of drilling. The faculty dentist had to sign off on the tooth before it could be filled, and then a final last signoff and grade after completion.

My first student told me he was the top in his class gradewise, but he was not the best with his hands. He was being paid to attend dental school and had all equipment and supplies covered by the Army for a tour as a dentist at some future Army Dental Clinic. He said he was very popular because he loaned his government tools to other students to use. He even had the new Hi Speed Air Drill furnished by the government. Georgetown Dental School didn’t even have one at the time. I wondered which was best, to have a dentist good at the books or good with his hands?

Good with hands:
1. Doesn’t lean an arm, hand, or finger on your body, face, or teeth.
2. Gentle pressure with tools.
3. Quick and deliberate while in your mouth.
4. Doesn’t have tool slippage and is aware where your fat, numb lip is in relation to your teeth.

I had another student dentist who was very good with his hands. He had a big filling to replace that was close to the nerve. He worked slow and deliberate and I was tired and fell asleep. He thought I had died on him and went for an instructor. I felt sorry for his shock and didn’t laugh until I got outside.

Some of the instructors were retired dentists. Others were graduate dentists studying for advanced degrees.

I remember one elderly retiree instructor that would take a yellow #2 pencil out of his shirt pocket and tap on my tooth under repair with the rubber eraser end each time he checked me. Then put it back in his pocket and go to the next patient. I asked my student dentist if I really saw what I saw with the pencil? He said yes. The students had discussed the problem but they had a problem turning in a report on faculty. I told him I would take care of it. The head of the Dental School was a customer of ours at the studio. We took his family photographs every Christmas. He was instrumental in getting me into the outpatient program. I visited his office on my way home and the problem was cleared that hour. The students were delighted.

The student dentist that I will remember to my last day was a beautiful, inside and out, girl type person from the Philippines. She was the age of my oldest daughter and I loved her as such. She was an excellent dental student and practitioner. The best touch of them all. She asked me questions that she would ask her father in the Philippines. She even introduced me to her fiancée to get my approval. He was a delight and a bright young man with an MBA in banking. I was blessed to take their wedding pictures and meet her whole family. She opened a practice in Annapolis, Maryland, while he was an investment banker. A year after the wedding, a drunk driver killed them both in an auto accident.

My Honey and I were sorry that Georgetown University closed the Dental School, due to not being able to find quality students in numbers enough to keep the school productive.

Shame on public education!