August, 1963 in San Antonio was like something I had never experienced
The good news was...the drill instructors kept you so busy
You didn't even have time to think
The bad news was...it was so hot
I couldn't hold down food the first three days
And I was pretty lean when I got there
At seventeen, I didn't shave either
And our drill instructor quickly cured me of that
(with face one inch from my ear and yelling)
"If it is fuzz of any kind at all, YOU WILL SHAVE IT!"
A couple of weeks into basic
Our DI gave us a Coke break
It was, and remains to this day
The best soda I have ever had in my life
Smoke breaks were pretty amazing too
And yeah, just about everyone smoked in those days
Then I had an opportunity to buy a set of
Air Force tan gabardines
(On payments of course...)
Shirt, slacks and tie - Shirt was pressed with a military crease
The tie was tucked neatly between the second and third button from the top
First time I was able to buy my own clothes with my own money
I was dazzled... it really looked sharp
Though I just ended up wearing it a couple of times
I also (small world) ran into an old pal
From our Huron, Ohio HS wrestling team, Kirk Mote
We were both so wrapped up in figuring out
What the hell we were doing
We just swapped pleasantries and moved on
While at Lackland I had the 'opportunity'
To pull KP at the Air Force's largest medical facility
Wilford Hall Medical Center
It was a night shift, peeling potatoes
And running patient food trays to and from the upper floor wards
The kitchen staff gave us cups of ice cream at the end of our shift
It was almost like we were real humans there for a moment
Along the way they gave some of us a language aptitude test
I did okay and they threatened to send me to language school
In Monterey California where they would teach me to be a "spy!"
I was pumped up but had to fill out a security clearance application first
I asked my Dad about the car I swiped at 15 (see
"Sinner? - Definitely")
And he reckoned they would never find out about it
So...where it asked if I had ever been arrested I said, "No."
A few weeks later, we got our orders for technical schools
I was being sent to;
Greenville Air Force Base, Mississippi
For basic Medic classes
I figured they had changed their minds about sending me to language school
But being a Medic sounded interesting
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| This one is a little different, but you get the idea. |
We rode a bus there
Somewhere, maybe in Louisiana
We stopped and got out for a break
There was a gas station that had restrooms marked
"White, and Colored"
I had no idea what that was about but soon found out
Then at Greenville, we were being processed in
At one point someone handed me my military records
Then told me to walk them over
To some other processing point in the building
On the way I peeked
Among other things inside, there was a form...
All filled out and duly signed by an officer
"Waiver of fraudulent enlistment."
They had found out about my arrest
And decided not to kick me out
But scratched me from language school
They never said a word to me about it
I responded in kind
Not kickin' no "sleeping dog..."
Nope, not me;
A few weeks later, among other things
I had learned to use a plastic ID card
To cover a sucking chest wound
A not-so-uncommon battle injury
Then they sent me to advanced technical training at;
Gunter Air Force Base in Montgomery Alabama
I was to be a "Preventive Medicine Specialist"
That sounded pretty interesting to me
They made me a squad leader there
I guess because I was pretty good
At marching troops
"Hup, Twooop, Threeep, Fuorrrp!"
The words meant nothing
The cadence of the words meant everything
I made a couple of pals there
One was Dave Grabowski from Toledo, Ohio
Dave was short but played a real tall (alto?) saxophone
In fact, he preferred to stand on a foot locker to play
So he wouldn't have to worry about bouncing his sax on the floor
When he really got into the song
Man he could play... "
Harlem Nocturne" to lift the roof off the building!
Many of our classes were really, really boring
Like, "Control of Communicable Diseases in Man"
And "Food Sanitation"
And "Industrial Hygiene and Toxicology"
Okay well I guess all of them were boring
Except maybe the lessons on how to do VD interviews
One of our instructors was so damn cool though
He was an old, fairly round NCO
And he had us all figured
After lunch, classes would typically find half of us dozing off
About the time many of us started nodding
He would throw a piece of chalk against the. front blackboard
From the the back of the room, raising his voice at the same time
"And that is
how you use a SLING PSYCHROMETER!!!!"
"BLAM!!!" went the chalk
That snapped us out of it for a few minutes
He was the best teacher I had among all
Air Force, college undergrad and grad professors
I think because he seemed to love it
More than any of the rest
Out of Gunter, I received my first assignment to;
1964 - Cannon Air Force Base near Clovis, New Mexico
Everyone who thought they knew anything
Said it was the "asshole of the world."
I had a great time there.
Wearing starched medic whites every day
(So long tan gabardines!)
Looking after public health
Control of food-borne illnesses,
Sanitation inspections, occupational health inspections...
Even VD interviews
I was kind of a one-striper big shot!
Performing inspections and hammering out reports on a manual typewriter
While there, the military kicked off one of it's
Trendy management programs called "Zero Defects"
Zero Defects began with Martin Marietta trying to strengthen it's Titan Missile program
But as it spread to include the Air Force, definitions or clarification fell a little short
By the time it got to this 18 year old
Typing up inspection reports had become a very serious challenge.
His reports required an original and five manifold carbon copies
(Remember, no copy machines in the early sixties right?!)
So I would assemble all that paper
Insert it in the typewriter and carefully hit the keys....
Until I made a mistake
Then I would rip it all out
(Noticeable corrections, erasures and white-outs were not an acceptable part of the zero defects program)
And begin all over again
I could damn near fill an entire waste basket preparing one report
It was definitely costly in time, supplies and labor
But thankfully it was short lived
So fairly neat corrections using an eraser or whiteout became once again acceptable
The base was outside of town
And the surrounding land was pretty flat
We had a huge mosquito season
The base leaders were concerned about the infestation
They decided a medic would map potential breeding areas
Including standing water locations
Around the base
They chose me to do the job
What a kick, circling the base,
Watching from the open door of a helicopter
Charting spots for the insect and rodent control guys to spray
One day, the guys from the neighboring Flight Surgeon's office
Stopped by our offices...
"An F-100 pilot was doing stunts near Nara Visa, New Mexico
He maneuvered his plane upside down, got disoriented
And flew into the ground a day ago
We need someone to drive an ambulance up there
And pick up the remains after the Civil Engineering guys
Get the wreckage out of the ground."
I volunteered...
It was a solemn moment
When much of the plane was pulled from the ground
It left a hole, five or six feet deep where some of the cockpit remained
When it was clear, the guys looked at me
And I climbed in with plastic collection bags
Just about every part of him was unrecognizable
And I started pulling what I could from the instrument panel wreckage
Some of the guys felt sorry for me I guess
Because a couple climbed into the pit and started helping
In all, we got about 40 pounds (weighed later at the Flight Surgeon's Office)
of a pilot who originally weighed around 180
The only things we identified as his were a couple of heat fused coins
And part of a combat boot.
I was also learning to water ski at Ute Dam and doing a lot of it
Thanks to pals Dave Biggs and Jim Nordby
(Both of whom I lost contact with for over thirty years.
Later, I was lucky to have reconnected with them via the Internet
Using the God of All Knowledge; Google.)
I bought my first car there, a '49 Merc (See
"Baby Blue and Speed")
Custom painted light blue, with a flathead 8 and starter on the floor
Shaved and decked with a couple of spotlights... it was a fine ride
I also spent a lot of time shooting pool and learning ping pong in the barracks/dorm
I was drinking, going broke and learning how to budget my money - in that order
I was the first to sign up for the base billiards championship there
It was a challenge format
A few months later they called and told me to pick up my trophy
No one had challenged me - it wasn't because they knew anything about my game
It was because no one else was interested
I liked the trophy - it had a genuine eight ball in the base
Carried it around for years
I heard there was fighting in a country called Viet Nam
Didn't know where it was but knew I wanted to go
Service to my country?
Nah, those words weren't even in my vocabulary
All just part of the search for manhood and plain old curiosity I guess
Instead, the Air Force sent me thousands of miles
In a different direction;
1965 - Lajes Air Force Base, Lajes Field, the Azores, Portugal
I loved the Portuguese
Average income on the island was like
Thirty bucks a month
Yet they were all happy
And very honest
Our cleaning guys
(Even lowly Airmen could afford them)
Were so honest they would stack our change for us
If we left some lying around our dorm room
We had a shoe shine boy (man)
Who came around in the hospital where we worked
Shines were cheap - a dime
Yet he was saving to go to the United States
I'll bet he made it
As I had heard that many did
The islanders didn't wear shoes ordinarily
Just on Sundays for church
Portuguese bread, butter and cheese was delicious
We could make a full meal of it easily, anytime
Washed down with homemade red wine
Cheap at a quarter a jug
It usually came in a recycled Jim Beam bottle
Or something similar
When you were flush you bought Rose Mateus
Commercially bottled, from mainland Portugal
I learned to play golf there
I was fascinated by the look, smell and feel of the shoes, clubs,
balls and the bag
I was also dazzled by the fact that I could afford to buy my own
We had one golf course on the island...a beauty it was
I loved walking it early in the morning
When the fairways were bright silver with morning dew
We had Portuguese caddies "A and B"
"A" caddies were a buck for eighteen holes
They were generally teens or pre-teens
And knew more about the game then we did
When I first started I would just walk to my ball
And reach for whatever club my caddy handed me
Not knowing anything at all about what club worked for what distance
Often, we would play 36 holes straight on a Saturday
In the afternoons, we would send a caddie to the clubhouse for beer
And one of the caddies would carry two bags until the other got back
Then my four year enlistment was up and I got out
People who stayed in were called "lifers"
By the airmen my age
And I didn't like the sound of the term
Although I was having a fine time with it all
So I returned to Seattle in the Spring and stayed with the folks for a while
While job hunting and settling in
Had a couple of jobs, at Boeing and in a lumber yard,
Paid my folks rent to live at home in the meantime
And still felt tied to or dependent on a place (home)
I didn't want to be
So that Fall I went back in the Air Force
This time they wanted me in Intelligence
And this time I didn't lie on my security application
So I was accepted for training in two areas
Combat Intelligence (204X0) and Photo Interpretation (206X0)
Training was at;
1967 - Lowry Air Force Base, Denver Colorado
I was so pumped up when I left Seattle for the trip to Denver...
I had bought a new (used) 63 1/2 Ford Galaxy XL
And I loved driving
So I basically drove straight through to Denver
About 1400 miles in 23 hours
Pulled off the road once to get a little shut-eye
But was so fired up I just laid in the back seat and stared
So I kept on going and at times opened the wing vent to let
Air blow directly on my face, turned the radio up full blast
And sang at the top of my lungs - that got me through
Sundays in Denver, we started a tradition of sorts
A bunch of us would head for the lush, green grounds of
The Denver Museum of Nature and Science
There we played sandlot tackle football
Typically in teams of seven
There was a small lake or big pond there
With an island, fenced and protected as a bird sanctuary
We soon learned football and birds were not exactly made for each other
Many times we would be tackled, only to find after getting up
We had landed in green bird shit
We weren't too concerned and kept playing regularly
We did start calling the games the "DuckShit Bowl" though.
One day in class someone announced
The Air Force was in need of volunteers to be
"Air Intelligence Airman Parachutists"
We would need to pass a physical exam
As well as an endurance test
Of course I volunteered
The endurance test wasn't much at all
Pushups, climbing ropes to the gym ceiling
That sort of thing
The physical exam not so much either
But when the results came in I was rejected
Because I had 20/200 vision in both eyes
And was not cleared for jump school
I was surprised because I had been catching footballs with ease
And no glasses at the "DuckShit Bowl"
I also shot some mighty fine pool without my glasses on
Just had to play the blurry edges so it was all the same
Later, I found out a lot of the parachutists
Were trained to jump in and teach counterinsurgency
For operations in South America
And there was a high fatality rate
I thought I might have literally dodged a bullet with that one.
After training, my first job was in Combat Intelligence at;
1968 - Ellsworth Air Force Base near Rapid City South Dakota
We gave gave current intelligence and enemy fighter aircraft recognition briefings to air crews there
And built Top Secret SIOP-ESI* bomb run flight charts for B-52s
(*Single Integrated Operations Plan - Extremely Sensitive Information...yea its on Google)
It was just your everyday plan for all out nuclear war - no problem.
We had a Major there
Who delighted in 'embellishing' the current intelligence news
We received from various agencies
And relaying the glorified versions to combat crews
At weekly intelligence briefings
"The Russians have a satellite with photo resolution so good
They can can read the name tag on your uniform when you step outside!"
This was in 1968 mind you....
But I'll bet it is very true today
One night, at the Hilltop Bar near Rapid City
I met Julieann Marie Thomas, just turned 19,
Celebrating her birthday with friends and looking gorgeous
She was a fast friend and would later agree to be my wife,
As she is today more than 50 years later
