In early September 1964, I got to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio. The heat was almost unbearable at times, and the command post would raise a certain color flag—I think it was yellow—and we did not have to do physical training. I mostly stayed in barracks and studied or shined shoes. Our barracks were left over from World War II, and they were not air conditioned. My bunk was on the second floor on the top.

Our drill instructor would have meetings on the second floor since it was the hottest. He would stack up three footlockers, then send one of us recruits down to the snack area to get him a cold bottle of Sprite out of the pop machine. He would set that bottle of Sprite on the top of the footlockers for all of us to see. We were not allowed pop or anything else cold unless it was in the chow hall at meal time.

It was pure torture watching that bottle of pop's sweat run down its sides. After the meeting was over, our drill instructor would stand there and drink the pop while we all watched. He enjoyed watching us watch him. To this day, I still think about that on really hot days when I have a can of pop.