Returning to Reno on a Tuesday evening in early January, 1956, l found Ted and Ben at the cabaret in the Golden Hotel. They are enjoying the performance of,
can you believe it?!...ELLA FITZGERALD! That was then. ln the Reno of today, you won't see any acts of Ella's stature in any cabaret. lf you want entertainment of quality, you'll need to pay a couple of hundred bucks for a seat
in the "Big Room" of one of the Mega Hotels. You may want to avail yourself of
information on dress codes as well. l'm just sayin'.
Too soon was Ella's set at an end and the three of us picked up and headed for
Ben's house. l was nearly out of subscription applications and l intended to sell
magazines for most of the days in the current week. Ben gave me a good pile of apps and some new fliers announcing some discounted prices on some of America's most popular periodicals. That completed, l thanked my two friends:
"You guys have been like older brothers to me, sharing your friendship, your
livelihood,your knowledge...l can't help wondering how my life would be if l hadn't neglected to replace that crankcase plug in Fred's delivery truck. l not only avoided months at a filthy job crawling in the dirt under those beastly
trucks, l wound up with knowledge that can be used in any city to earn a good
and honest living. l can't thank you enough".
"Well, l know l speak for both of us when l say 'We're glad to have helped'
especially when we see our instruction followed to success. Realize; many who have received the same instructions have been unable to make them work
with any consistency. Realize another thing; every time you make money, l
make money. So it could be said that our helping you is part of our investment
in our own futures",said Ted.
"When someone invests in me to the extent that you guys have, l'm going to do
everything l possibly can to avoid disappointing. Besides, l've always liked work that required relating to people. Nearly every job l had while working in my Dad's businesses did require it."
"l have to change the subject for a moment, guys. While l do presently find most of my life to be quite copacetic,there are a couple of issues l'll need to
confront in the next couple of days and l'm hoping you can help me with....
At that point,as one they said "Well, Hell yes we'll help you. Why wouldn....."
"l'm glad you said that, both of you", l said laughingly. "lemme get right to the
details:You already know that l'm failing miserably in the quest to acquire a
degree in architectural engineering and there is no chance that my Dad will be
satisfied with anything less. More to the point, UNR is so alarmed about my
scholarly comportment that, not only did they expel me; they bagged my stuff,
labeled the bag and leaned it against the locked front door of my former room.
lf l could stay with one of you, for a day or two, l'll get a weekly hotel room now and look for something better,later".
"Between the two of us", said Ted "we own 4 perfectly good, unused beds, two in each of the two 3Bdrm homes, here; the house we're in now, and the
one next door. We have plenty of space. Move your stuff from the U tomorrow.
What's the other issue?"
l started by explaining how WWII, which began when l was 3 and ended when l was 7,had really spooked me and before it was over l had promised myself a no
combat existence,of great length, with no slogging, crawling or dying in the grunge-infested mud. Now, l'm just a few months away from draft age and l got nothin'. Except the National Guard, and even that is shaky. l was connected
to the Guard thru my ROTC class at UNR. That link is now severed. to save my relationship with the Guard l think it would be necessary to move to Elko and
attend meetings. (That being my NG home base). But l don't want to live in Elko. l have already had more than enough Elko. The ideal would be a position
in the military itself that never required being in battle. Now we're in fantasy
country. l'm sure there is a way ,though. lt was quiet for a moment or so and
then Ben said that he thought he might know how it could work. He said that his
sister's youngest son, who was educated in electronics, was interested in the
Signal Corps because they were heavy into electronics. Once he had enlisted and been assigned, he found himself in the Army Security Agency,which is a
part of the Signal Corps. ASA inductees must have the highest security clearance to get in and then it's all about keeping those secrets from those who seek to harm us.By the time the ASA inductee completes his in-service training,
he/she knows a bunch of secrets. Uncle Sam( US ) wants you to keep the secrets that you know, to yourself. The deep background investigation is used to verify a law-abiding past. The law requiring you to keep secrets to yourself or
suffer a fine of up to $10,000 and/or ten years in Federal prison is probably enough to discourage most folks (especially those with clean records)
from sharing any secrets they may know.
But US can't stop there. (here's where it gets relevant,finally).He has to make
sure, as much as possible, that no one can take from you, or force you to. divulge, your secrets. And he goes to great lengths to cover his bets. To start
with: Soldiers assigned to the Army Security Agency CANNOT LATER BE ASSIGNED TO A COMBAT UNIT where they could be captured and interrogated.
l think that all of this applies to all of US's military but l'm talking here about the
Army only. At any ASA operation site a detachment of Us Marine guards is provided,around the clock, to further ensure that all the secrets of all the soldiers are kept, whether at work, at meals or asleep. Ben didn't present all of
this quite as l have, but you've got the substance of it.
The three of us talked about the possibilities that now presented themselves,
into the early morning. l crashed in one of Ben's extra bedrooms but couldn't fall asleep so, a little before daybreak, l walked downtown, to the CalNeva and had
one of their great steak and eggs breakfasts while waiting for the Army recruiter to get to work.
,
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Monday, April 27, 2015
Employed 5 the college months Part 3
Ben said"Wow, that's quite a resume. How old are you?'
"Seventeen."
"Have you done any selling?" asked Ted.
"Sure have" l said :
"about a hundred-thousand gallons of gas,maybe a thousand sets of tires and Lawd knows how much motor oil".
"That ain't sellin'"said Ben,"that's Takin' orders".
"A couple o' times in middleschool as part of a class fund-raising project l sold magazine subscriptions, door to door",l said,
"How'd you do?"
"Pretty good" l said."But so did most everybody in the class. Another guy and l tied for first place,but we were only a few ahead of the ones just behind us.
Considering that all of the money collected went to the class treasury, l think we all might have done better if it were our job".
So, it turned out that Ben was self-employed as a periodicals distributor.He could sign you up for a subscription to nearly every magazine published in
America and within about a week after we met, so could l. Before long, except
for U.S.History,Drafting and ROTC, l was a no-show at UNR. But l was at Ben's
nearly every day, to take instruction from Ben in the finer points of direct sales,
the details on how to turn a signed order into part of a paycheck.
ln about six weeks l was earning regularly and despite my lifestyle, actually
saving money. My college life, however was not good. By Halloween, l was so many plates (Drafting assignments) behind that l couldn't catch up if given
the remainder of the year to do it. So l stopped going to that class. And when l saw what l had done l stopped going to US History class as well. (By itself it couldn't make up for my almost total failure at UNR) They still liked me at ROTC
though. At Sometime near Winter Break, l got my first invitation to suit up and
perform with the synchronized marching group, whose group name l'm not yet
able to remember. It was a ball! Very much like playing in a marching band.
More exacting to perform and way more appreciated by the audience.l looked
forward to the next performance.
Another couple of months and it's time for the year-end break. Ben encouraged
me to take a break from selling subscriptions and go home for the holidays.
(No one wants a magazine subscription for Christmas). For a few weeks l had
thought about going home then, mostly to talk some with Dad about the state
of my education. l made another attempt to convince him that l was much more likely to be successful at UNR if l studied Art. lt's not really too difficult, it's just
that l'm not interested in it. "That would seem obvious, but if the situation is as
bad as you say nothing will save you from expulsion, not a change in your
curriculum or anything else you can come up with. When they boot you out,what will you do to keep your deal with the National Guard? Move back here? Elko is where your membership is. Another thing that comes to mind:You
are a hell of a driver, you know l've always said that.l'd be willing to buy a big-rig, tractor-trailer that you will drive and pay me back by sharing your profits with me. What do you say?" "No thanks,Dad".
"Seventeen."
"Have you done any selling?" asked Ted.
"Sure have" l said :
"about a hundred-thousand gallons of gas,maybe a thousand sets of tires and Lawd knows how much motor oil".
"That ain't sellin'"said Ben,"that's Takin' orders".
"A couple o' times in middleschool as part of a class fund-raising project l sold magazine subscriptions, door to door",l said,
"How'd you do?"
"Pretty good" l said."But so did most everybody in the class. Another guy and l tied for first place,but we were only a few ahead of the ones just behind us.
Considering that all of the money collected went to the class treasury, l think we all might have done better if it were our job".
So, it turned out that Ben was self-employed as a periodicals distributor.He could sign you up for a subscription to nearly every magazine published in
America and within about a week after we met, so could l. Before long, except
for U.S.History,Drafting and ROTC, l was a no-show at UNR. But l was at Ben's
nearly every day, to take instruction from Ben in the finer points of direct sales,
the details on how to turn a signed order into part of a paycheck.
ln about six weeks l was earning regularly and despite my lifestyle, actually
saving money. My college life, however was not good. By Halloween, l was so many plates (Drafting assignments) behind that l couldn't catch up if given
the remainder of the year to do it. So l stopped going to that class. And when l saw what l had done l stopped going to US History class as well. (By itself it couldn't make up for my almost total failure at UNR) They still liked me at ROTC
though. At Sometime near Winter Break, l got my first invitation to suit up and
perform with the synchronized marching group, whose group name l'm not yet
able to remember. It was a ball! Very much like playing in a marching band.
More exacting to perform and way more appreciated by the audience.l looked
forward to the next performance.
Another couple of months and it's time for the year-end break. Ben encouraged
me to take a break from selling subscriptions and go home for the holidays.
(No one wants a magazine subscription for Christmas). For a few weeks l had
thought about going home then, mostly to talk some with Dad about the state
of my education. l made another attempt to convince him that l was much more likely to be successful at UNR if l studied Art. lt's not really too difficult, it's just
that l'm not interested in it. "That would seem obvious, but if the situation is as
bad as you say nothing will save you from expulsion, not a change in your
curriculum or anything else you can come up with. When they boot you out,what will you do to keep your deal with the National Guard? Move back here? Elko is where your membership is. Another thing that comes to mind:You
are a hell of a driver, you know l've always said that.l'd be willing to buy a big-rig, tractor-trailer that you will drive and pay me back by sharing your profits with me. What do you say?" "No thanks,Dad".
Employed 5 The College Months Part 2
Being fired on the first day of the job was a new experience for me. ln fact being fired at all was new to me. And still is. l have quit a gang of positions, mostly to accept another one or to give myself a sabbatical, but was never fired again. Not to say that l didn't deserve that firing; despite the working conditions, once l had
agreed to do the work, Fred had a right to expect it to be done, at least well enough that no equipment was ruined in the course off the work. While l felt bad
about Fred's loss l didn't have the resources to pay for my mistake. On top of that
l needed to find another job and l had no connections in Reno and no idea what type of work l should look for.
That nite, when l counted the remains of the walkin-around money Mom had slipped me as she and Dad left Reno to return home, it was apparent that l'd have to give up my nightly visits to Reno's cabarets AND find another job post
haste. Thinking of the cabarets though, l remembered the two older guys l'd met
at the Golden Hotel on my first nite in Reno. After we'd seen both shows at that
place one of them suggested that we check out Harold's Club and the Mapes Hotel. Those three places, they said, currently had the best shows in town at that time, and usually did have.
l got to thinking about the fun the three of us had had that nite and realized that
l did have connections in Reno! l might very well find a job thru one of them. lt
shouldn't be difficult to find them at one of their favorite places. After dinner, l watched TV for a couple of hours, then walked to downtown Reno and found my
new friends at my first stop, in the middle of Rowan & Martin's act. l was glad that they seemed glad to see me. After R&M's first show, it was decided to walk to the Mint Lounge to catch Rodney Dangerfield. On the way l broached the subject of my recently having become unemployed.
l swear to all that's Wholly, sometimes l think some imperceptible force moves obstacles out of my path and replaces them with opportunities. check it out:
On the day before: Not ever having been late for work before, l show up for my part-time job maintaining delivery trucks for a landscape nursery TWO HOURS
LATE and very hung-over. l manage to complete oil changes and grease jobs on four trucks but,somehow neglect to replace the crankcase plug in one of the engines. The truck bearing that engine was less than five miles from the nursery when all of the moving parts in it became one. The next day, my start time was in the afternoon and l was looking forward (in the morning) to being on time but Fred saved me the trip and phoned me with the news of my dismissal. So, by the time l'd reached Downtown Reno that evening l was ready for some good news. l can't remember either of those new friends now.Let's
call them Ted and Ben. When they heard of my need of a job, Ted said he was sure he could help me, and asked me what kind of work l had done. l went thru my whole list of occupations, from my first job in Dad's cafe, washing dishes
thru my job with the National Guard/ROTC
agreed to do the work, Fred had a right to expect it to be done, at least well enough that no equipment was ruined in the course off the work. While l felt bad
about Fred's loss l didn't have the resources to pay for my mistake. On top of that
l needed to find another job and l had no connections in Reno and no idea what type of work l should look for.
That nite, when l counted the remains of the walkin-around money Mom had slipped me as she and Dad left Reno to return home, it was apparent that l'd have to give up my nightly visits to Reno's cabarets AND find another job post
haste. Thinking of the cabarets though, l remembered the two older guys l'd met
at the Golden Hotel on my first nite in Reno. After we'd seen both shows at that
place one of them suggested that we check out Harold's Club and the Mapes Hotel. Those three places, they said, currently had the best shows in town at that time, and usually did have.
l got to thinking about the fun the three of us had had that nite and realized that
l did have connections in Reno! l might very well find a job thru one of them. lt
shouldn't be difficult to find them at one of their favorite places. After dinner, l watched TV for a couple of hours, then walked to downtown Reno and found my
new friends at my first stop, in the middle of Rowan & Martin's act. l was glad that they seemed glad to see me. After R&M's first show, it was decided to walk to the Mint Lounge to catch Rodney Dangerfield. On the way l broached the subject of my recently having become unemployed.
l swear to all that's Wholly, sometimes l think some imperceptible force moves obstacles out of my path and replaces them with opportunities. check it out:
On the day before: Not ever having been late for work before, l show up for my part-time job maintaining delivery trucks for a landscape nursery TWO HOURS
LATE and very hung-over. l manage to complete oil changes and grease jobs on four trucks but,somehow neglect to replace the crankcase plug in one of the engines. The truck bearing that engine was less than five miles from the nursery when all of the moving parts in it became one. The next day, my start time was in the afternoon and l was looking forward (in the morning) to being on time but Fred saved me the trip and phoned me with the news of my dismissal. So, by the time l'd reached Downtown Reno that evening l was ready for some good news. l can't remember either of those new friends now.Let's
call them Ted and Ben. When they heard of my need of a job, Ted said he was sure he could help me, and asked me what kind of work l had done. l went thru my whole list of occupations, from my first job in Dad's cafe, washing dishes
thru my job with the National Guard/ROTC
Saturday, April 18, 2015
Employed 5 The College months, Part one
Returning to school for the senior year, l worked for Dad again, mostly at the service station or delivering home heating oil and propane and in the fall a couple of weeks for the ranch during round-up.
Dad and l had been talking the specifics of my time at UNR: l wanted to study art, thinking to become an illustrator. He, who had wanted to be an architect, (actually an architectural engineer) thought it would be better for me to get a PE degree first and then study architecture. We went back and forth on this one and finally he said that he would pay for it if l studied engineering, but not if l studied art. Somehow, it never occurred to me that l could go to work and pay for it myself, like so many others have done, so l agreed to go with engineering.
Two months before graduating high school, l turned seventeen and within a few days reported to the National Guard and got signed up. Because of my driving experience, they assigned me to drive what they called a "deuce and a half" (two and a half ton truck) in which l carried about twenty-some soldiers to the training areas. About a month into summer vacation, our NG unit, an anti-aircraft artillery company did our two week
training at a remote spot in central ldaho where we employed large-bore
ak-ak cannons to knock drones out of the sky. What l remember most about that experience was the ear- splitting boom of the many cannons along
the firing line. One good thing; there was no mud to march, slog or crawl in.
Both Dad and Mom accompanied me on the 270 mile trip to UNR. Once l was registered and moved into my room, they drove the 270 miles back. l walked down to South Virginia Street and spent the evening at the Golden Hotel
lounge, where Peggy Lee (a popular singer of the 50s and 60s) was headlining
with Rowan and Martin opening for her. (A stand-up comedy team of that era, who,in the 60s co-hosted the very popular TV show "Laugh In"). What a nite! l had seen plenty of live performers at the three large hotel-casinos in Elko.
In fact, big-name entertainers at casinos was the original idea of "Red" Ellis,
owner of the Commercial Hotel in Elko. But that night at the Golden Hotel l became a fan. Of The Golden Hotel, of Peggy Lee, and of Rowan and Martin.
So, by the time l'd been at UNR for a month l had spent so much time soaking up entertainment at the various casinos and so little time in class (out all nite,
sleeping 'til mid-afternoon, missing most of my classes, l was totally screwing up. My last class of the day, fortunately enough, was ROTC. l was always up in time to get to that class and never missed it. (the NG paid only for attended
ROTC classes). That class required no study whatsoever. We were a performing synchronized marching group composed of about twenty-five young men apparently chosen for their close proximity to being 6'0" tall and weighing under two-hundred pounds. We were the ridiculous-looking guys wearing the
tall, visored, feather-topped head gear,the formal army uniform, white gloves,
patent leather shoes and most importantly, the real, though disabled M1 rifle
that was at the center of our show. Oh, our show had plenty of fancy-dance
kinda marching; this way, that way and another, sometimes together, others
apart. Forward, backward and sideways, but when the rifles leave the right shoulders to begin their dance, spontaneous applause often ensues within a few seconds. To give newcomers an idea of what would be in store for them,
we were invited to sit back during our first day at class and just watch. l must admit that my hands were among the clapped; in fact, after seeing the first
few minutes l wondered if l'd be able to do it. Afterward, the captain told me that there would be many practice sessions (one every school day) and few performances in a given year ." If you're not ready for the next performance
we'll just shoot for the one after that."
Dad had a niece in Reno who was married to a man who owned a nursery/
rockery. His name was Fred. Dad had arranged for me to work for him a few hours on weekends, servicing some of his delivery trucks. On my first day there, having risen at an hour to which l was un-accustomed (but still almost
two hours late) Fred forgave me and he walked us to the parked trucks,
wished me well and left me to my task. The situation was a little off-putting:
The trucks were parked on graded dirt strewn with rocks about the size of
limes. There was no shop building or any covered area or any pavement. l
admit that l was a little bit spoiled when it came to work area: At home my
work was done in a large, two-bay garage with concrete floors, hydraulic hoists, power lube and grease dispensers and undercar, wheeled light stands. l had a horrible day: l managed to grease,change oil and top off the other fluids in four trucks, while crawling around in the rocky dirt beneath them but, somehow
neglected to replace the crankcase plug in one of them, resulting in the engine's disintegration. Which is what caused the loss of that job on day one.
Dad and l had been talking the specifics of my time at UNR: l wanted to study art, thinking to become an illustrator. He, who had wanted to be an architect, (actually an architectural engineer) thought it would be better for me to get a PE degree first and then study architecture. We went back and forth on this one and finally he said that he would pay for it if l studied engineering, but not if l studied art. Somehow, it never occurred to me that l could go to work and pay for it myself, like so many others have done, so l agreed to go with engineering.
Two months before graduating high school, l turned seventeen and within a few days reported to the National Guard and got signed up. Because of my driving experience, they assigned me to drive what they called a "deuce and a half" (two and a half ton truck) in which l carried about twenty-some soldiers to the training areas. About a month into summer vacation, our NG unit, an anti-aircraft artillery company did our two week
training at a remote spot in central ldaho where we employed large-bore
ak-ak cannons to knock drones out of the sky. What l remember most about that experience was the ear- splitting boom of the many cannons along
the firing line. One good thing; there was no mud to march, slog or crawl in.
Both Dad and Mom accompanied me on the 270 mile trip to UNR. Once l was registered and moved into my room, they drove the 270 miles back. l walked down to South Virginia Street and spent the evening at the Golden Hotel
lounge, where Peggy Lee (a popular singer of the 50s and 60s) was headlining
with Rowan and Martin opening for her. (A stand-up comedy team of that era, who,in the 60s co-hosted the very popular TV show "Laugh In"). What a nite! l had seen plenty of live performers at the three large hotel-casinos in Elko.
In fact, big-name entertainers at casinos was the original idea of "Red" Ellis,
owner of the Commercial Hotel in Elko. But that night at the Golden Hotel l became a fan. Of The Golden Hotel, of Peggy Lee, and of Rowan and Martin.
So, by the time l'd been at UNR for a month l had spent so much time soaking up entertainment at the various casinos and so little time in class (out all nite,
sleeping 'til mid-afternoon, missing most of my classes, l was totally screwing up. My last class of the day, fortunately enough, was ROTC. l was always up in time to get to that class and never missed it. (the NG paid only for attended
ROTC classes). That class required no study whatsoever. We were a performing synchronized marching group composed of about twenty-five young men apparently chosen for their close proximity to being 6'0" tall and weighing under two-hundred pounds. We were the ridiculous-looking guys wearing the
tall, visored, feather-topped head gear,the formal army uniform, white gloves,
patent leather shoes and most importantly, the real, though disabled M1 rifle
that was at the center of our show. Oh, our show had plenty of fancy-dance
kinda marching; this way, that way and another, sometimes together, others
apart. Forward, backward and sideways, but when the rifles leave the right shoulders to begin their dance, spontaneous applause often ensues within a few seconds. To give newcomers an idea of what would be in store for them,
we were invited to sit back during our first day at class and just watch. l must admit that my hands were among the clapped; in fact, after seeing the first
few minutes l wondered if l'd be able to do it. Afterward, the captain told me that there would be many practice sessions (one every school day) and few performances in a given year ." If you're not ready for the next performance
we'll just shoot for the one after that."
Dad had a niece in Reno who was married to a man who owned a nursery/
rockery. His name was Fred. Dad had arranged for me to work for him a few hours on weekends, servicing some of his delivery trucks. On my first day there, having risen at an hour to which l was un-accustomed (but still almost
two hours late) Fred forgave me and he walked us to the parked trucks,
wished me well and left me to my task. The situation was a little off-putting:
The trucks were parked on graded dirt strewn with rocks about the size of
limes. There was no shop building or any covered area or any pavement. l
admit that l was a little bit spoiled when it came to work area: At home my
work was done in a large, two-bay garage with concrete floors, hydraulic hoists, power lube and grease dispensers and undercar, wheeled light stands. l had a horrible day: l managed to grease,change oil and top off the other fluids in four trucks, while crawling around in the rocky dirt beneath them but, somehow
neglected to replace the crankcase plug in one of them, resulting in the engine's disintegration. Which is what caused the loss of that job on day one.
Monday, April 6, 2015
Employed 4 The NG dodge
An unforgettable day; everyone talking loud, near hysterically, berating "those Goddamn Japs", all fearfull of what may be coming: An invasion of our west coast? (we lived only about a day's drive east of the coast) In just days or weeks we could be in the middle of a lot of Japanese troops, etc. etc.
Of course,the physical war itself never closely approached but was always in our news (including the movie newsreels). What was called "World War Two" had raged in Europe since about the time of my birth, but suddenly it then seemed closer and more threatening; We had heard, many times before the attack at Pearl, stories of the fighting on the radio and moving pictures of the carnage and suffering via the movie newsreels. And endless movies of soldiers
slogging or crawling thru the mud or snow, amidst the bombs, mortars, bullets and what-not. For some reason the pictures of the soldiers walking, crawling or lying dead in the mud deeply moved me. l felt so sorry for those young men (and full-grown boys) but l became determined to learn how one might avoid
participation in war. WarS, actually. l was just seven when WWII ended and for a short time l was relieved. l was still eleven years short of draft age, and who knows, the next war could be thirty years away! Right. By the time that
the Korean "Police Action" ended l was only three years short of draft age; it was time for the chicken-hearted, combat-avoiding, war is not for me guy to take steps to insure against finding himself slogging or crawling or dying in some foreign country's mud.
So, during that last summer (54) working for the game refuge a lot of thought was given to looking for a way to avoid the military entirely. One day, while working with the survey crew one of my co-workers said something about my search for a way to dodge the obligation males in the U.S. then faced by law.
We were working that day with the chief surveyor , a great old guy who revealed himself as one who also thought that we should, if possible avoid
involvement in war, and he had some valuable information.
He said that, to him the National Guard seemed a good bet. The Guard, he said is there to be used in times of local disasters and other emergencies, both in peacetime and war. Some times as in lraq,for instance, soldiers in the Guard are sent to combat zones to replace the regulars when losses are high. Not having a draft (again like during the Iraq war) can also force the use of the Guard. But back in the mid-fifties the guard was a good way out of active duty.
After work, that day the chief and l talked more about avoiding combat. One thing he said right away was "lf enough young men could be persuaded to refuse to serve, war could be stopped altogether." The first workday after my last day at the game refuge, l presented myself at the National Guard offices
offering myself as a member. A Master Sargent there took me through the information about how it works (One evening meeting every two weeks, One two-week deployment each summer) One is paid for each appearance year-round. When l told him that l planned to attend University of Nevada,Reno and asked if l could attend the bi-weekly meetings at a Reno or Sparks NG center
he said at UNR l could enroll in the Reserve Officer's Training Course and the classes there would count as NG meetings for which l would be paid. Upon graduating the four year course l'd become a Second Lieutenant as well as a college graduate.'
It sounded pretty good to me so l said "sign me up". Then he asked my age.
Since l was still six months short of being seventeen years old he asked me to return after my 17th birthday with parent(s) (To signify approval). l said l would.
Of course,the physical war itself never closely approached but was always in our news (including the movie newsreels). What was called "World War Two" had raged in Europe since about the time of my birth, but suddenly it then seemed closer and more threatening; We had heard, many times before the attack at Pearl, stories of the fighting on the radio and moving pictures of the carnage and suffering via the movie newsreels. And endless movies of soldiers
slogging or crawling thru the mud or snow, amidst the bombs, mortars, bullets and what-not. For some reason the pictures of the soldiers walking, crawling or lying dead in the mud deeply moved me. l felt so sorry for those young men (and full-grown boys) but l became determined to learn how one might avoid
participation in war. WarS, actually. l was just seven when WWII ended and for a short time l was relieved. l was still eleven years short of draft age, and who knows, the next war could be thirty years away! Right. By the time that
the Korean "Police Action" ended l was only three years short of draft age; it was time for the chicken-hearted, combat-avoiding, war is not for me guy to take steps to insure against finding himself slogging or crawling or dying in some foreign country's mud.
So, during that last summer (54) working for the game refuge a lot of thought was given to looking for a way to avoid the military entirely. One day, while working with the survey crew one of my co-workers said something about my search for a way to dodge the obligation males in the U.S. then faced by law.
We were working that day with the chief surveyor , a great old guy who revealed himself as one who also thought that we should, if possible avoid
involvement in war, and he had some valuable information.
He said that, to him the National Guard seemed a good bet. The Guard, he said is there to be used in times of local disasters and other emergencies, both in peacetime and war. Some times as in lraq,for instance, soldiers in the Guard are sent to combat zones to replace the regulars when losses are high. Not having a draft (again like during the Iraq war) can also force the use of the Guard. But back in the mid-fifties the guard was a good way out of active duty.
After work, that day the chief and l talked more about avoiding combat. One thing he said right away was "lf enough young men could be persuaded to refuse to serve, war could be stopped altogether." The first workday after my last day at the game refuge, l presented myself at the National Guard offices
offering myself as a member. A Master Sargent there took me through the information about how it works (One evening meeting every two weeks, One two-week deployment each summer) One is paid for each appearance year-round. When l told him that l planned to attend University of Nevada,Reno and asked if l could attend the bi-weekly meetings at a Reno or Sparks NG center
he said at UNR l could enroll in the Reserve Officer's Training Course and the classes there would count as NG meetings for which l would be paid. Upon graduating the four year course l'd become a Second Lieutenant as well as a college graduate.'
It sounded pretty good to me so l said "sign me up". Then he asked my age.
Since l was still six months short of being seventeen years old he asked me to return after my 17th birthday with parent(s) (To signify approval). l said l would.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)