Remembering That August Night

At Eighteen, What Did I do?

         I was just 18 years old, and didn’t know what to do with myself. I mean, after all, I was a grown man now and couldn’t live at home with mom, could I?

         We had graduated from high school in June and spent the summer relaxing and joking, much as kids,, er, men our age did. Then a couple of things happened quickly. One of my good friends was high on the draft list.. Yep, it was the summer of 72, and the draft was still going strong. Just so you know, back then when the Military was running the draft, the days of the year would be put into a large container and removed one at a time. My friend’s birthday was high on the list, around 25 or so. Mine was down the list, close to 300, I probably wouldn’t be drafted. But as a result, my friend Bob went to the Army recruiter to sign up, rather than wait for the draft notice to come to him.

         The next day after visiting the recruiter Bob was bragging about joining the Army and going to Germany to be a tank driver. Another good friend Steve looked at me and said something like, “He can’t do that and show us up. Shall we go see a recruiter too?”

         I’m not sure of my reply, but if I was going to join the military, the only force I’d consider was the Navy, so Steve and I went to see the Navy recruiter. The thing is, I’d been to California to work with a couple my late father had worked for. They ran a business of food tents on fairgrounds. I quickly found out that wasn’t a future for me. It wasn’t something I wanted to do for an extended period of time. However, I was flown there by that couple, and was picked up at the San Diego airport. The route to the Del Mar Fairgrounds took us past the Marine Corps boot camp, as well as the Navy Boot Camp. I distinctly remember looking at the guys going through Boot Camp and saying, “Ha, you’ll never get me there!” Famous last words.

         So here I was at the Navy recruiter’s office in downtown Albuquerque. We went through the standard testing, had our physicals, and were instructed to return on another date. That date arrived and we were all sworn in. The head recruiter handed me a large bundle in an envelope and told me not to lost the paperwork. After all, I was the HMFIC. I was impressed, and happy that I was trusted with all this paperwork. So I asked that that meant, and he replied, ”It means you’re the Head MF In Charge.” Boy did my ego lower quickly.

         It was Friday, August 25, 1972 when were sworn in and boarded the plane for San Diego. We didn’t arrive until about 9 pm that night, and boarded a bus for the Recruit Training Command (RTC). The Second Class Petty Officer who was the driver got on last and said something like, “As we’re driving to the RTC, there will be no whistling at girls out the windows. You will not put your arms out the window and wave to anyone. You will sit quietly as we drive there. Is that clear?”

         There were words of agreement spoken by a few of us, but it was mainly mumbling. At this point, the Second Class Petty Officer said the same word again, only in a much more stern voice. As we’re driving to the RTC, there will be no whistling at girls out the windows. You will not put your arms out the window and wave to anyone. You will sit quietly as we drive there. Is that clear?” This time a chorus of “Sir Yes Sir” was heard loud and clear from all of us. Sitting on the bus on the way to RTC, all I could do was shake my head and think to myself, ‘What have I gotten myself into?’

         There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not "Remembering that August night."