My first night at Fort Knox, Ky., was a rude awakening. We were marched into a World War II barracks that looked like it hadn’t been used since 1946. This was in March 1949. I was part of a group told to go to the second floor. Except for a heavy coating of dust on the floor, the only thing there were bunks folded and stacked in the corner. Several guys were given trash barrels and told to put as much hot water in them as they could carry up the steps. Some of us, including me, were given buckets, a scrub brush and a big bar of GI soap. We were each given an area to scrub. Other guys were given mops to swab the floor dry. We then had to take the bunks and set them up. Then we were marched to the supply room and handed a mattress to carry back upstairs. One of the cadre gathered us around the bunks after we picked up our sheets, blankets, pillows and pillowcases and showed us how to make a bed with hospital corners, etc. It was a long day, and when we finally were able to hit the sack, that bunk felt like heaven. I slept on a bunk like that for three and a half years and don’t remember having trouble sleeping! I still make the bed every morning and at 83, it’s a very good “getting up” exercise.