Arkie John
Active member
Life was grand in Saline County back in late 1967. I drove a nice Bonneville convertible, had a little money in my pocket, newly married for about 8 months...life was just grand.
I avoided the draft by gettin' married (that, of course, was just a little bi-product to being married donchaknow) and I had out-smarted Uncle Sam. I was pretty smug about it, on my way to being a carpenter just like Daddy.
Ever get the feeling that things are just TOO good to be true? Well...they were. The man on the six-O'Clock news told us one day that the draft was reaching farther than ever before. They were needin' anyone that could walk. For that reason, it was decided by the powers that be to no longer allow bein' married to be a reason for not servin' your country. How could this be? How could Uncle change horses in the middle of the stream.. After all, I-- I had made the commitment already. I just let it go and decided in the wisdom of a 19 year-old, that the draft would pick married boys last. So wrong.
One day I received notice in the mail that I was to report for a physical. Oh buddy! It was gettin' just too close for comfort. I had no choice. So on the appointed day, I got on a bus from the post office in Benton and rode the 30 miles to Little Rock.
There I saw hundreds of wide-eyed boys, not knowin' anything more than I knew about the process. It was in January. We were all stripped down to nothin and the doctor walked in, in that concrete block room, with the cold concrete floor. "Well, from the looks of you-all, it looks like I got me a bunch of LADIES here! We could argue seein' as how my testicles had ascended an hour earlier.
Well, I took the physical, as did all the others. Like I said if you could walk you passed. I passed. I knew I was in trouble. I was not the John Wayne type. But the 6-o'clock war was getting closer. Those Army idiots were grinnin' and barkin' orders. I swear, their knuckles dragged the ground.
I looked around and saw a Navy recruiting office along side a National Guard office. I went to the Guard and they laughed. Well, I thought I'd try anyway. I KNEW I wasn't the son of a senator but I had to try. Things were not goin' my way.
As I departed the National Guard office, I heard, "Hey, you want some good advice, buddy? Come over here and we'll give you your choice of the job you want in the NAVY!" Hey look, it was the best deal I had gotten all day. I went in and the friendly recruiter was talkin' my tune.
I knew that my draft number was not a good one and that I had now passed my physical...and that Viet Nam was raging and that the machine has a ravenous appetite for young men and I didn't like it one bit. Whatever happened to that wonderfully simple lifestyle I had possessed just TWO WEEKS AGO??????
I signed the dotted line. "Report tomorrow you're in the Navy now," Like it or not I was in the Navy. I got back on the bus and headed back to Benton. I didn't hear a thing all the way back.
At dinner that night, the family all made the best of the news I had to tell them. They were proud of me, even though they had to get an arm-lock on me to get me to enlist. At least I wasn't DRAFTED. Yeah, right. I knew I was still a gonner.
On the news that night, it stated that two Navy recruiters were killed in Little Rock that evening. I went in the next morning and the lone recruiter said that they would contact me in seven days...that because of the accident things were placed on hold. "I have a week!" I thought. I'm free for a WEEK. What to do?
The first of a very long string of curves was thrown to me the very next morning. The phone rang and the recruiter told me to get to Little Rock. I did, as quickly as I could. I went through all this processing...but I noticed the demeanor of the Navy folks was a lot different. They all barked and growled, each louder than the other. We recruits were treated like sub-humans and called names I didn't even know existed. I never heard the word "f_____'worm" before, but every time I turned around there was some screamin' fool with red eyes carryin' on like I couldn't hear him. Heck, I could have heard him from Benton.
Finally, after all the paperwork was done, the old master chief decided that we needed to be divided up to where we would go to boot camp. It was in the teens that week--cold as blue blazes. The Navy had boot camps in Great Lakes, IL and San Diego, CA. Now, may I ask you, where would YOU want to spend the next 8 weeks of YOUR life if you had to go to one of them???? I'm no Einstein, but I knew that San Diego was my place. Look, I had NEVER ever even SEEN a palm tree before except when Frankie was chasin' Annette in the movies. It was my time to salvage SOMETHING out of all this. Where had my life gone??? I was not in control of anything now...but just maybe.
I stood in line for my assignment, single file, at parade rest. "NEXT." I heard the Master Chief say, "Where the hell do YOU want to go to basic, sweetheart?" The trembling recruit sheepishly said, "Well, I'd really prefer San Diego, sir." "I'M NOT A SIR, BY GOD. I WORK FOR A LIVIN'! YO ASS IS GOIN TO GREAT LAKES, AND YOU BETTER LIKE IT! NEXT!" Man, I gulped. When this guy spoke it commanded your 100% attention. He seemed to tower over us. Authority was never so loud and ugly. "Where do YOU want to go," he repeated. "Sir I really like the colder weather and since we'll be running some, I'd like to go there." "YO ASS IS GOIN' TO 'DIEGO, YOU SISSY! SEE THAT MAN RIGHT OVER THERE." I looked and the guy was smiling like Boris Karloff, rubbing his hands together. "GET OVER HERE, YOU PUKE," he barked. The poor guy fell all over himself to get just 30 feet.
But I had a plan. After listening to that idiot Chief for fifteen minutes, I guess I got a little confidence in myself and decided to use his ignorance to my advantage. "NEXT." It was show time.
I came to attention and stepped forward, standing at rigid attention. "WELL, PRETTY BOY, WHERE'S YO PREFERENCE OF DUTY STATION?" I said, "Well master chief, I have family ties in Great Lakes and I could really use the moral support while training--"SHUT UP BOY. YO ASS IS HEADED TO SAN DIEGO. AIN'T THAT SWEET???" I didn't answer. "GET OUDDA MY FACE AND REPORT OVER THAR!" Off I went, in a flash.
It worked! I was headed to SAN DIEGO!!! I didn't show it, but I had just outflanked a 24 k idiot master chief. All it took was a little nerve.
I boarded a plane on 16 January 1968, landing in San Diego in the early morning hours. We were bussed to a barracks. I could see the silhouettes of palm trees going by as the bus took us to our destination. Things were about to start happening...beginning just two hours after we were bunked down, with the hurling of a 55 gallon galvanized trash can being catapulted down the center of the barracks. "GET UP, YOU MAGGOTS." Oh, hell.
**********************
As a post script, I got my draft notice in the mail during my third week of boot camp. There was some victory in telling the Army to stick it...but not much. The palm trees??? They were beautiful, but I never had time to look at them. I was always running in formation and they wouldn't let me stop. Imagine. But they couldn't keep me from the 70 degree weather
In the eight weeks of boot camp and the next three months of dental technician school and hospital corps school, I pretty much achieved my goals. I found that I actually liked the Navy after boot camp. But even in Boot Camp, I made the best of it. I was presented with the top two honors of the cycle. I received the American Spirit Award Medal and Top Recruit of 1,500 men. IT was a whole 'nother world, now. But I really missed my Arkansas and family and they were never far from my heart. I tried everything I could to avoid it all, but now I was part of it.
Thus begins the military career of the noncom Artful Dodger.
Thanks for comin' along. <><
aj
I avoided the draft by gettin' married (that, of course, was just a little bi-product to being married donchaknow) and I had out-smarted Uncle Sam. I was pretty smug about it, on my way to being a carpenter just like Daddy.
Ever get the feeling that things are just TOO good to be true? Well...they were. The man on the six-O'Clock news told us one day that the draft was reaching farther than ever before. They were needin' anyone that could walk. For that reason, it was decided by the powers that be to no longer allow bein' married to be a reason for not servin' your country. How could this be? How could Uncle change horses in the middle of the stream.. After all, I-- I had made the commitment already. I just let it go and decided in the wisdom of a 19 year-old, that the draft would pick married boys last. So wrong.
One day I received notice in the mail that I was to report for a physical. Oh buddy! It was gettin' just too close for comfort. I had no choice. So on the appointed day, I got on a bus from the post office in Benton and rode the 30 miles to Little Rock.
There I saw hundreds of wide-eyed boys, not knowin' anything more than I knew about the process. It was in January. We were all stripped down to nothin and the doctor walked in, in that concrete block room, with the cold concrete floor. "Well, from the looks of you-all, it looks like I got me a bunch of LADIES here! We could argue seein' as how my testicles had ascended an hour earlier.
Well, I took the physical, as did all the others. Like I said if you could walk you passed. I passed. I knew I was in trouble. I was not the John Wayne type. But the 6-o'clock war was getting closer. Those Army idiots were grinnin' and barkin' orders. I swear, their knuckles dragged the ground.
I looked around and saw a Navy recruiting office along side a National Guard office. I went to the Guard and they laughed. Well, I thought I'd try anyway. I KNEW I wasn't the son of a senator but I had to try. Things were not goin' my way.
As I departed the National Guard office, I heard, "Hey, you want some good advice, buddy? Come over here and we'll give you your choice of the job you want in the NAVY!" Hey look, it was the best deal I had gotten all day. I went in and the friendly recruiter was talkin' my tune.
I knew that my draft number was not a good one and that I had now passed my physical...and that Viet Nam was raging and that the machine has a ravenous appetite for young men and I didn't like it one bit. Whatever happened to that wonderfully simple lifestyle I had possessed just TWO WEEKS AGO??????
I signed the dotted line. "Report tomorrow you're in the Navy now," Like it or not I was in the Navy. I got back on the bus and headed back to Benton. I didn't hear a thing all the way back.
At dinner that night, the family all made the best of the news I had to tell them. They were proud of me, even though they had to get an arm-lock on me to get me to enlist. At least I wasn't DRAFTED. Yeah, right. I knew I was still a gonner.
On the news that night, it stated that two Navy recruiters were killed in Little Rock that evening. I went in the next morning and the lone recruiter said that they would contact me in seven days...that because of the accident things were placed on hold. "I have a week!" I thought. I'm free for a WEEK. What to do?
The first of a very long string of curves was thrown to me the very next morning. The phone rang and the recruiter told me to get to Little Rock. I did, as quickly as I could. I went through all this processing...but I noticed the demeanor of the Navy folks was a lot different. They all barked and growled, each louder than the other. We recruits were treated like sub-humans and called names I didn't even know existed. I never heard the word "f_____'worm" before, but every time I turned around there was some screamin' fool with red eyes carryin' on like I couldn't hear him. Heck, I could have heard him from Benton.
Finally, after all the paperwork was done, the old master chief decided that we needed to be divided up to where we would go to boot camp. It was in the teens that week--cold as blue blazes. The Navy had boot camps in Great Lakes, IL and San Diego, CA. Now, may I ask you, where would YOU want to spend the next 8 weeks of YOUR life if you had to go to one of them???? I'm no Einstein, but I knew that San Diego was my place. Look, I had NEVER ever even SEEN a palm tree before except when Frankie was chasin' Annette in the movies. It was my time to salvage SOMETHING out of all this. Where had my life gone??? I was not in control of anything now...but just maybe.
I stood in line for my assignment, single file, at parade rest. "NEXT." I heard the Master Chief say, "Where the hell do YOU want to go to basic, sweetheart?" The trembling recruit sheepishly said, "Well, I'd really prefer San Diego, sir." "I'M NOT A SIR, BY GOD. I WORK FOR A LIVIN'! YO ASS IS GOIN TO GREAT LAKES, AND YOU BETTER LIKE IT! NEXT!" Man, I gulped. When this guy spoke it commanded your 100% attention. He seemed to tower over us. Authority was never so loud and ugly. "Where do YOU want to go," he repeated. "Sir I really like the colder weather and since we'll be running some, I'd like to go there." "YO ASS IS GOIN' TO 'DIEGO, YOU SISSY! SEE THAT MAN RIGHT OVER THERE." I looked and the guy was smiling like Boris Karloff, rubbing his hands together. "GET OVER HERE, YOU PUKE," he barked. The poor guy fell all over himself to get just 30 feet.
But I had a plan. After listening to that idiot Chief for fifteen minutes, I guess I got a little confidence in myself and decided to use his ignorance to my advantage. "NEXT." It was show time.
I came to attention and stepped forward, standing at rigid attention. "WELL, PRETTY BOY, WHERE'S YO PREFERENCE OF DUTY STATION?" I said, "Well master chief, I have family ties in Great Lakes and I could really use the moral support while training--"SHUT UP BOY. YO ASS IS HEADED TO SAN DIEGO. AIN'T THAT SWEET???" I didn't answer. "GET OUDDA MY FACE AND REPORT OVER THAR!" Off I went, in a flash.
It worked! I was headed to SAN DIEGO!!! I didn't show it, but I had just outflanked a 24 k idiot master chief. All it took was a little nerve.
I boarded a plane on 16 January 1968, landing in San Diego in the early morning hours. We were bussed to a barracks. I could see the silhouettes of palm trees going by as the bus took us to our destination. Things were about to start happening...beginning just two hours after we were bunked down, with the hurling of a 55 gallon galvanized trash can being catapulted down the center of the barracks. "GET UP, YOU MAGGOTS." Oh, hell.
**********************
As a post script, I got my draft notice in the mail during my third week of boot camp. There was some victory in telling the Army to stick it...but not much. The palm trees??? They were beautiful, but I never had time to look at them. I was always running in formation and they wouldn't let me stop. Imagine. But they couldn't keep me from the 70 degree weather
In the eight weeks of boot camp and the next three months of dental technician school and hospital corps school, I pretty much achieved my goals. I found that I actually liked the Navy after boot camp. But even in Boot Camp, I made the best of it. I was presented with the top two honors of the cycle. I received the American Spirit Award Medal and Top Recruit of 1,500 men. IT was a whole 'nother world, now. But I really missed my Arkansas and family and they were never far from my heart. I tried everything I could to avoid it all, but now I was part of it.
Thus begins the military career of the noncom Artful Dodger.
Thanks for comin' along. <><
aj
I still have the first letter you sent to me and Tom, but it was sent after Pat came out there to be with you! Kinda funny how you grew up so fast and got so wise, but you know what? You were right! 
