![]() ![]() The two men introduced themselves as Sgt. “Cooperate and you graduate.” Okay, I was fine with that. There will be no picking of the nose while at the position of Attention.” Ah, I thought, a little humor this won’t be so bad. “You will not move while at the position of Attention. They showed us the position of “Attention.” Heels together, toes slightly out, back straight, shoulders back, thumb and forefinger touching pant seam, eyes straight ahead, no motion, no sound, staring at the back of the head of the man in front of you. Two men in Smoky Bear hats, our Training Instructors (T.I.’s), arranged us by height into a rough formation. When we got to the barracks, it was about midnight, a clear night, warm, and very quiet. We had a long wait at the receiving station, sitting in rows of chairs in the order in which fifty of us would be taken to create one “flight,” while NCO’s shuffled papers at a table up front. The driver was wearing green fatigues, and said to us all, “If you’ve got any wise-assing to do, you’d better do it now.” That was the first threat. The bus took us to Lackland Air Force Base. We waited at the Buffalo airport, and then in the Chicago airport, then we waited for a bus at the San Antonio airport. Everyone wearing glasses was in the last row. We were led into a small room and sworn in, with the soon-to-be Marines in the front row, then the Army recruits, then the Navy, and then the Air Force in the last row, kind of a graphic depiction of the class system, running from lower up front to middle class at the back. Army - was revealed to be wearing boxer shorts decorated with cowboys & Indians.) An aging career officer was rude to us. (It was not as much fun as the draft physical at that time, when we were ordered to strip to underpants, shoes and socks, a young man from Canada - yes, their were Canadian youth who wanted to enlist in the U.S. I was certainly going to be cooperative and do my best to fit in, so I didn’t think I’d have a problem.Īll of the young men who were entering the service that day assembled and waited there, and there was another physical. In answer to my question, “What is Basic Training like?” the recruiter had said, “Six weeks of harassment.” I thought that was very candid, and then didn’t think of it again. My parents dropped me off, and as they drove away, I saw my mother crying. The morning I went into the Air Force - SeptemI started at the Entrance Station in Buffalo, New York, the same place where I’d had my draft physical a few months before.
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