The trip to the Raleigh airport was uneventful. It was filled with the apprehension to be expected. There was one guy who I’d seen on the bus when we left Washington, NC. He looked as nervous as me. I started conversation with him. His name was Lawrence Shaw. He was from Bath. That’s the little town on the north side of the Pamlico Sound from Aurora in the same county as I was from. Now at least I had someone to buddy up with to relieve some of the stress.
When we got to the airport I had an unexpected surprise. My mom had called Aunt Doris that day. Uncle Robert, her husband worked for Piedmont Airlines at the time and there was their whole family with exception of Nancy. There was Aunt Doris, Bobby, Barry, Wanda and Anne to see me off. I was so glad to see them. Raleigh airport was still a very small place where you still boarded the planes by walking out the back of the building, crossed the tarmac and walked up the steps beside the plane. It’s not like that anymore. The whole bunch of them walked with me right to the door leading to the plane where we all stood and talked and hugged and carried on. Then came time to get on board the plane. I hated having to leave, but everyone made for a good distraction if for only a few moments.
Our first stop was Atlanta and Lawrence and I got to exchange things about ourselves and study the other handful of guys going with us. When we got to Atlanta we had a short layover. This gave us time to find our gates. I believe some were going to Ft Benning or somewhere else. Lawrence, myself and some others went on to New Orleans. I don’t remember much about this airport, other than having to run to the next gate for a stump jumper flight to Shreveport. From there we caught a bus. This is where it got interesting. The bus dropped us off at a bus stop with one light. You know the type. It’s more like a park bench with a cover. Problem was there was nothing and I mean nothing around within eyesight. It was pitch black except for that light. The bus driver told us to just stay there and a bus from the base would come by shortly to pick us up. Lawrence and I sat down there on the bench with our little suit cases in the surrounding pitch darkness. It was almost like sitting on a bench that was hanging in space with nothing around us. It was like if we got up and took a step we’d fall off the edge and fall forever. It was that no moon type of darkness. We finally took a sigh of relief after almost an hour when we saw headlights appear down the road. It was our ride to the base.
We got on and settled down for the short ride to Fort Polk Reception Center. We arrived there around two in the morning. It had been a very long day and I was hungry, sleepy and ready to crash. But, no, that wasn’t happening just yet. The reception center was nestled in the pines surrounded by a heavily wooded area. It was like going to camp for the little guys, only this one was for us and the staff wore green uniforms with ranks and stuff on their sleeves. The bus stopped at this small wood hut amongst the rows of two story wood frame buildings, which I could only suppose was where I would end up sometime before daybreak. We were hustled into the this small hut where there were rows of seats and a podium at the front. There was a barrel with a slotted lid next to it. Once seated a couple of corporals came in an went to the front. They stood there giving us instructions as to what was going to happen. Then came the one thing I wished I hadn’t done later on. Vickie and I had exchange a few racy photos of each other to keep us in remembrance of what to expect when we got to see each other again. We were told if we had any “nekkid” pictures we were to through them away as they were considered contraband and if we were searched and they were found we would be punished. I think all these guys really wanted to do was see how many naked girlfriend pictures they could collect. Anyway that’s where mine ended up, since I was too scared to want to get into trouble. Now, later in life I think it was probably best that happened. It was then or my mother-in-law would have found them later. That’s another story.
We were then told we would be fed and taken to one of those two story buildings with the rest of the group that had assembled with Lawrence and me and allowed to get some sleep. My first Army meal was a hamburger and French fries. That, I’ll never forget. Once we had eaten we were taken to the our building to the second floor and shown bunks. It didn’t take me long to get to sleep.
Nine o’clock came quickly. The process of keeping you off balance had come. We were told to stand at the end of our bunks in our civies (street clothes). We were going for a hair cut first thing. I had gone to the barber before leaving home to trim mine down enough to off-set the extreme change coming. The laughable part of the haircut process was the tricks the barbers would play. Some really long haired hippy typed would get the top cut to stubble and the barber would stop and say his shears where broke and make them go stand outside while he fixed his problem. Here would be a guy with nothing on top and the sides would have hair dangling to the shoulders. But all joking aside the thing that was funny to me was they gave us the option of an A, B or C haircut. That would be an A for completely stripping your head down to stubble. The B haircut got you stubble on the sides and big stubble on top. The C cut got you stubble on the sides, but they left about an inch in top. The laughable part comes later.
That afternoon after mess, we were herded over to a warehouse and walked down the line and given an issue of uniforms. I won’t go into detail. Let’s just say we got everything we needed including two pair of combat boots. Once we got back to the barracks we were given boxes and told to pack our civilian clothes in our little suitcases. Once we’d boxed them up we were told to address them to our home and from that time on we had no more civilian clothes. We were essentially all Army now with a fresh haircut and green clothes with exception of our underwear. One thing to note is that this was the only couple of months in my life I ever wore boxer shorts. Whitey tighties or me and nothing other. I switched back after boot camp.
The next several days were acclimation days. We learned what fire watch was all about and how we were assigned to fire guard. Every other night or so I’d have to get up in the middle of the night for an hour and walk around the floor to make sure the guys got out safely if the building were to catch fire. I believed in that too, because those building had been there since World War II. This was the seventies and I was surprised they were still standing.
The most memorable of days was when it appeared the whole reception centers troops went to this large classroom auditorium and we all sat taking tests. With each round they enlisted giving the tests would go over them and call out names and tell them to leave. I sat through every one of those tests right to the last one. There were only a few of us left for it. I took that one and then was told I could leave. I was told when I left that last test was for Officer’s Candidate School (OCS). I know I passed that on my attempts to enlist earlier in the year, but the stress I was under now must have gotten to me. It was alright anyway. I learned later that these tests were meant to test where we were to go for school later on. Since I passed them all I didn’t really know what that would lead to, but I could only guess it was to my advantage.
After I got to my Company.
