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.
“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.
posted by JackSML | 11:55 PM
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