The night I graduated from Dayton, Ohio’s John H. Patterson Co-op High School in August 1965, all the guys let out a scream of “See you in Vietnam!” as we threw out mortar boards into the air. I actually ran into a couple of my old classmates during my ’67-’68 tour of ‘Nam.
Since I was only 17 on my graduation night, I had to wait 14 months before boarding a bus in Cincinnati that was headed to Fort Knox, Ky. There were three busloads of newly sworn Army draftees (like me) and regular Army volunteers who left Cincinnati that late October afternoon. When we disembarked the buses at Fort Knox, we were told to wait under some shade trees for further orders. Soon a short buck sergeant and a tall corporal marched toward us. There was such a difference in their height that they appeared almost comical. What happened next took the smile from our faces. The buck sergeant screamed, “line up!” Most of us tried to get into some semblance of a line while a few continued to “smoke and joke.” The buck sergeant went over to the biggest of the ‘jokers’ and knocked him to the ground with his fist and emphasized his previous order, “Damn it, I said line up!” At that point all of us fully understood that we were ‘in the Army now.'
We were marched to an orderly room and made to stand at parade rest while we were taken inside one by one for our initial processing. It was getting dark and cold by this time. Most of us only had a light jacket. Next, we were taken into a large medical building where blood was drawn to verify our blood type. I remember that this mountain-size recruit fainted at the sight of his blood.
Finally we were fed and assigned bunks for the night. Long before daylight, we were rudely awakened and marched back to the front of the orderly room Unbeknownst to the huge-looking sergeant inside, I was rapidly coming down with a bad case of poison ivy. The day before reporting to Cincinnati, my girlfriend and I had roamed Winston Woods near Cincinnati. That must have been where I had made contact with the 3-leaf irritant. What worried me most was that it was near my eyes. The sergeant was not buying my story and had branded me as a malingerer. Although the sergeant intimidated me, the thought of a severe poison ivy outbreak scare me more. I spoke up and said, “if I have any rights at all, I want to see a doctor.” He must have seen I was serious and directed me to the nearest clinic. The doctor I saw gave me some ointment and a note that I was to have a couple days' bed rest. I had barely reached the safety of my top bunk in our barracks when a sergeant entered. “What are you doing in here!” he screamed. I showed him my doctor’s excuse, he gave me a frown and left. The only training I missed those first couple days were KP and work details.
While still in our first week, we were still wearing civvies. The night before we were marched to be fitted for military clothing and boots it had snowed 4 to 5 inches. We were all happy to get into some warm clothes and boots.
Another memorable day in boot camp was at the rifle range. It was a cold, rainy November day in Northern Kentucky. We had ponchos but had to lie on the ground to fire our M-14’s, usually in a mud puddle. Every time I fired my weapon the kickback slung muddy water onto my glasses. Sgt. White walked down the firing line giving us encouragement: “Remember, men, it does not rain in the Army. It rains on the Army!” Another bit of advice that White shared with us was, “you can complain and whine the whole time you are in the Army and your 2 years will seem like an eternity. Or you can go along with the program and the time will pass quickly.” I chose the latter.
Most of our DIs had been toughened from service in Korea. They explained to us towards the end of our 8 weeks of boot camp that they were hard on us because they were getting us ready for war. I have always appreciated their efforts to make me into a more disciplined man, plus their training helped me to survive Vietnam.