I signed up for Air Force ROTC upon entering college in 1963. (My dad had piloted B-24s in World War II and B-29s in Korea.) I spent nearly a month the summer following my junior year in 1966 at the most desired "basic training" location - what was then Otis Air Force Base on Cape Cod - with some 200 other "cadets" from colleges all over the Northeast.
We all thought this would be a terrific fun-filled summer experience.
Not!
Finally, after a couple of weeks of cleaning showers and restrooms, making up bunks with hospital corners and searching for any minute dust particles under the bunks, precision marching on the parade grounds and standing at parade rest under the broiling sun, up at 5 a.m. for a run and wake-up exercises and attending lectures on all aspects of military life and the Air Force mission, we were finally given passes to leave the base on a free Saturday and head for the beaches of Falmouth, Mass.
Our reverie was quickly squashed when the local citizenry and tourists (girls in particular) looked upon us with disdain.
Why?
This was the 1960s - with boys' hairstyles below the collar and young people rejecting the growing conflict in Vietnam. Here we were with buzz crew cuts! So much for fun in the summer sun.