Employed 8 part 2

After our failed attempt to introduce ourselves to Natasha, Goldstein, Shultz
and l returned home. lt being a Friday, only Roy was in the house and that was because he was waiting for a call from his uncle Jack. On an earlier call
Jack had asked him if he would come to New York City to help him move. Roy
worked a part time job most Saturdays so he needed to call to see if he could take it  off to help. Knowing Roy's car was old and unreliable, Goldstein offered to drive Roy in his recently-purchased  '56 Caddy. (Which also proved
a boon to the actual moving of household goods, as well as people, that
weekend.

Since l'd visited NYC a few times by then and had always had a great time, l 
volunteered to help with the move. When Jack called back, he was happy about the unexpected volunteers and welcomed us. He gave Goldstein 
directions to his house in the Bronx. He thought we would make great time
on the trip, if we left right away. (about 10 PM) We could still get a few hours sleep at Jacks before the move. It didn't actually work out that way: arriving
at about 3 AM (sat'y) we found the place in party mode. About 20 revelers
were still there. Jack and his family had lived there for twenty-some years and was close to his neighbors. He and they would miss each other.

The move was near-complete at about 4 PM Saturday. After that Jack and (his
wife) Donna took us all out for pizza and beer. That nite, Ron, Goldstein and l
crashed on the floor of their new place. When we rose, having made plans  to
visit a museum or a gallery, located somewhere on Fifth Avenue (actual details evade me now) We were not sure of the location then, either. So we
just walked from Central Park South on Fifth and just took it all in. Pretty nice
neck of the woods. Nothing like the woods, really except the buildings are tal-
ler than natural, full-grown Redwoods.

l remember that we were in a myrth-full mood, even as the "scattered showers moved in, crossing fifth Avenue about once for every block we moved, each 
lasting about a minute or more. We would duck under a front-entrance alcove,
during a shower's presence and that worked well, but at one point an unusually heavy shower drove us up against a front door having no covering
alcove (to what looked like a business office thru the windows)and before the
shower soaked us, we let ourselves in. Before we had taken three steps
toward the man at the desk about twenty feet into the lobby, we noticed the hammer and sickel on the wall above and behind the man at the desk. Right,
we had for the second time in the weekend, put ourselves in two different
offices of Soviet diplomacy; the Embassy in Washington on Friday and the
Soviet Consulate General in New York on Sunday.

Judging by what somr of my teachers in NSA schools, relative to how closely
NSA workers are watched, l figured Harry would be looking for me as soon as Monday. I told Goldstein what l thought and asked that we return to D.C.
post haste. l needed to be at Ft Meade for reveille, Monday. Both Goldstein
and Roy thought l was over-reacting but went along, anyway. They dropped me at the NSA barracks at Ft Meade just before 8 PM Sunday. Two Marines
woke me up five minutes before reveille.

Harry was already there when the Marines and l reached his office. He thanked
them and dismissed them. Then, to me "You really blew it that time, private.
My orders are to order you to report to the Sixth Cavalry Regiment, Fort Meade
Maryland, personnel office, there to be assigned a position that best serves the Regiment's needs, What were you doing at the Soviet Embassy, anyway?
may l; ask?
"We just wanted to welcome the Ambassador's wife and daughterand wish them a great visit".
"Well, let's hope they're having a good one without your best wishes. You need to read your orders. You will have to report in before the end of business
today and get your stuff moved in tomorrow".

l drove straight home, gathered my Army stuff and drove back to the base and
presented myself to 6th Cav personnel. When he had my name, and other personal info, he asked "What's your MOS?"
"965"
"What's that?"
"Voice Intercept Operator, Russian.
"We don't get many requests for that one, what else can you do?
"l'm a pretty good draftsman".
"Hey!, Headquarters company needs a battalion engineer. Says here it's
mostly a drafting job with some map-making and a few other related tasks.
Think you could do that?"
"Sure. When do l start?"
"Put your stuff in your barrack and report to Sargent Vaughn at HQ company,
S-3. he'll show you what to do and will get you started. Good luck".

At HQ, Company l reported to Sgt. Vaughn, who introduced me to the C.O.,
Captain Meyer, the XO, 1st lieutenant Goodale, and SPC 3 Williams, our
driver and audio-visual man. l also met a number of other soldiers from other parts of our Battalion. They were there to help with preparations for the manuevers which would begin in a week. l didn't like the idea of maneuvers, at first. The venue for the event is 70 milrs from Riverdale and though we would have some time off during the month-long exercises, running back and forth, which i'd almost certainly be doing, was going to require spending of money l didn't have.

Most of that week l stressed over it as l filled the Hudson w/ gas, loaded all
of my Army stuff and made the first trip from Riverdale to our setup at Camp A.P. Hill, Virginia in an hour and forty minutes. What is today (Oct. 28, 15)
Fort A.P. Hill was then (Aug.1958) a beautyfull 300 to 400 square miles of
rolling hills, forested by mostly deciduous trees, bushes bearing berries and
many sparkling streams (mostly creeks). Camp Hill had been the beneficiary
of some of the WPA's best works. Started during FDR's administration, the WPA Works Progress Administration Put thousands of people to work building
roads, bridges, buildings and, at Camp Hill, among other things, a natural
bowl-shaped depression was transformed into the finest amphatheatre l've
ever seen.