I was drafted in 1966 with a few other married guys out of Ohio in September. I had been married since February 1964. I was 24 years old, but with no kids my number came up. I ended up in Fort Benning, Ga., for my basic. I had fun watching the 18- and 19-year-olds going through the line for haircuts and shots.
The first morning we had a formation outside our barracks before chow. Our drill sergeant asked if anyone could drive
a dump truck. Some raised their hands and were told to move to the right outside of the formation. The second question
was who could run a backhoe tractor. Again they were told to move over with the truck drivers. He then told them
that a leaking pipe needed to be found behind the barracks. They would find shovels and a wheelbarrow to get the job done. The sergeant then asked if anyone could type. Of course no one raised a hand. I thought about it and raised my
hand. I felt the first two times were for a reason. I told him I had two years of typing in school, and worked for Sears 6 years
receiving, stocking and ordering merchandise. He smiled and told me I was one lucky son of a gun, and after breakfast
to report to the company supply sergeant. I stayed in that MOS for the rest of my time in the Army.