It all started the summer of 1965 when a high school friend and I were pondering what we were going to do the following summer after graduating high school. I eventually wanted to go to college but didn't know what I wanted to major in. Big world with too many options. One thing for sure, I didn't want to become a school-teacher - which seemed to be the popular option for many in the '60s. Low pay, not that much recognition, but on the up-side, lots of time off. My friend’s brother had just returned from a three-year enlistment in the Army. So, the Army was a viable possibility. That developing Vietnam thing didn't scare me.
My home-town Army Recruiting Sergeant was located in a Quonset hut, along a side street and near the railroad tracks, a few blocks southeast of the city-square. He was a heavy-set man and really seemed interested in our inquiry. After all, Vietnam was heating up and I'm sure the Army gave him new quotas to meet already. The walls were decorated with the usual Army posters, me being impressed with the Special Forces ones. A couple of years earlier, President Kennedy brought the Special Forces into being, and their “Green Berets” were cool!
He told us that the Army has a program called the “buddy-system” which allows you and your buddy to enlist together and go, at least, to BCT (Army Basic Combat Training) together. The Recruiting Sergeant also said that even though we were not out of high school yet, we could still get a preliminary physical entrance exam out of the way now, and take some Army ability tests. It all sounded good so we went for it. What else did we have to do any way? He set up a date on a Saturday to go into Chicago to the MEPS [Military Entrance Processing Station].
At o’dark-thirty on the appointed Saturday, my friend and I boarded the local commuter train that took us on the 65-mile ride to Chicago. Passing through all the towns and communities situated along that Northern Illinois train track, butterflies increased in our stomachs, a prelude of dealing with the unknown and what we were getting ourselves into. On the bright side, we hadn’t signed any papers so we could back out of it if we changed our minds.
I’d been into Chicago many times before so it wasn’t that much of a cultural shock. Arriving at the C&NW station, we caught a bus to the MEPS (Military Entrance and Processing Station). It was an older multi-story building and had an ere of desperation to it. Inside, what a "goat f__k!" Herded into a classroom, we were briefed on the "ins-and-outs" of the entrance physical we were about to experience. Some guy next to me said "this is it guy," but I perked up right away and reminded the SP5 in-charge that I was only here for a preliminary exam. I was not going to be mistaken for a draftee and "shipped-out" anywhere today! He added to my uncertainty by not even responding.
Stripped down to our underwear, we had to follow the painted footsteps leading off to the various inspection stations. In addition, green, red, and yellow lines were painted on the floor to take away any confusion of where we were supposed to go. Just follow the bastards! It did not dawn on me at the time, but some of those “examinees” were illiterate and couldn't follow instructions if their lives depended on it! The Army already had them figured out and “idiot-proofed” the whole process.
I had never been around a more goofy-looking, crazy bunch of people in my life! I was shocked! Some smelled as if they hadn't taken a shower in weeks, and looked like they had just escaped from a car wreck. A guy in line ahead of me told me to swallow a chewing-gum wrapper before the x-ray exam. It would look like a scar in your stomach or intestines and the Army would reject you 4-F. Some took chemicals to screw up their urinalysis. Others poured water into the jar, thinking it would hide “whatever.” Talking about urinalysis, that was my first one ever and all the jars on the latrine ledge reminded me of apple-juice or beer or something. Pretty naive in those days!
Each station was its own little adventure. The medics and doctors looked as though they were rejects from God knows where. Not at all like my family doctor at home! They put their scribbles or rubber stampings on the various medical forms. I swear that if you were warm and breathing, you were in! One guy must have had seizures and they made him wear a football helmet everywhere. I noticed he was still around the next morning when we took our mental ability tests. Yeah, that night the Army put us in some "seedy" hotel. My buddy tried to get served in some bar and actually succeeded! We spent the rest of the night walking around; never occurring to us we might get rolled. That didn’t happen in my home-town.
Early the next morning, we had our first taste of Army chow. The basement of the MEPS was a mess-hall. The cooks and servers were impersonal and the guy at the griddle kept yelling out "how you want‘em?" Some guy in line yelled out "over greasy!" I can’t remember what I had but it doesn’t matter. It sucked! All the weird smells took away my appetite.
Then on to the ability-tests. There must have been two or three-hundred of us situated on a series of long tables, each separated by vertical plywood partitions. Basic math, elementary Algebra, mechanics, English grammar and word-usage, writing, Morse-code, foreign-language aptitude, you name it! The whole thing took from about 0730 hours to a little past noon or so. I wasn’t in the mood for these tests and couldn’t wait to get dismissed and get on the train again and go home.
That home-part happened around 1500 hours. After the noon-chow was over and packing us back into another large classroom, our names were eventually yelled out - dismissing us. I felt bad for those draftees that were retained there. Must have been hundreds of them! I heard their names being yelled out for the Air Force over here, the Marines here, the Army there, the Coast Guard, and the Navy up there. I guess each service got a few conscripts to fulfill their quotas. One heavily tattooed Navy guy issued us our train tickets and didn’t have to tell us twice to get the hell out of there! Reversing the trip from the day before, I was glad this weekend was over and done with! It took me a few days for this experience to wear off.
After all, I was still in high school and about to start my senior year. Anything else seemed a long-way off. The only thing that disappointed me was the fact that my dad wouldn’t let me go out for football again because he didn’t like the coach. Good reason! This same guy physically kicked one of the players in the butt for fumbling a kick-return in the first (non-conference) game - allowing the other team to score a touchback! Oh well, I lost myself the following Saturday night seeing the movie "Zorba the Greek," starring Anthony Quinn.
This was to be quite a senior year in high school. I would hear of two of my former classmates being killed in Vietnam, and of a couple more who graduated with my sister, three-years before. This was a small high school and everyone knew everyone!
Right away, one of my classmates (lets call him Tony) quit school and joined the Army. Within months he was killed, in the delta-area southeast of Saigon. Somebody got a letter from him a couple of weeks before explaining how one of the firefights was so fierce, the troopers had to dip their rifle barrels into the water to cool them off. Those damn early-model AR-15’s and M-16’s would jam in a heartbeat! You had to really keep them, their magazines, and their ammo clean! Pretty tough order in the “Nam.” The M-16 manufacturer eventually did a re-design feature that put a “forward-assist” plunger behind the right-side of the breach, to seat the bullet more firmly and help alleviate some of the jamming problems.
Our Home Town Vietnam Memorial
Image 1.
To this day I can still remember Tony persistently joking around in the school auditorium. On one particular day after lunch, he was caught holding a large-size Baby Ruth candy bar in front of his mid-section, as though it was his penis. An old coach, who had the duty to monitor us that day, yelled at him saying, “yeah, you only wish you had one that big!” Some of the little high school girls within ear range giggled.