Just an Army AWOL

When my orders arrived I read them, read them again and then read them a third time. Then I read Fleming's and Goulding's. All were the same: name, rank, serial number and "report from Fort Benning, Georgia to Company K, 145th Infantry, 37th Infantry Division at Camp Polk, Louisiana."
A clerk had slipped up. No date to report, nothing saying "by the first available means of transportation." Just report, that was all. Opportunity had knocked so I answered.
I was an old veteran, Fleming and Goulding were new to all this so that was their tough luck. My lips remained sealed.
Our 14 weeks of Weapons & Leadership School had proved to be nothing more than infantry basic training. The graduation ceremony was like that at any high school. One man at a time marched across a stage and was handed a diploma. I was eager for it to end because a northbound bus would soon be leaving nearby Columbus.
Then disaster struck. We had to march across the stage a second time so officers could smell our breath. Not surprising as half the men were drunk. I wasn't, but time was of the essence. Finally it ended and those not arrested milled around saying goodbye to friends they had made.
Not me. I ran to our barrack, grabbed my loaded duffel bag and flagged down a bus headed for town.
Somewhere along the way I changed into civilian clothes and arrived in Akron early the next day. A week of relaxation followed. I visited the people at the place where I had worked before being called up for the war in Korea, watched the Little League team I had managed play a game, goofed around in general.
When it began to seem likely that military policemen might be coming to the door I talked my less-than-enthusiastic father into driving me to the railroad station in Cleveland. A New York Central train took me through Muncie at first light the following morning and then on to St. Louis. From there the Missouri Pacific carried me through Little Rock and then arrived in Texarkana at midnight. There was a four-hour wait before a Kansas City Southern train would take me to Leesville. There are few places more dreary than Texarkana in the wee small hours.
At Leesville about nine in the morning I changed into my uniform and caught a bus for Camp Polk, expecting trouble when I arrived. Instead when I walked in the door of the orderly room Warrant Officer Fred Slabaugh jumped up, came around his desk and shook my hand while calling, "Captain, come and see who's here. Stodghill's back."
Captain Prasher was all smiles. Slabaugh said the company was out in the field and wouldn't be coming back until the following evening. He said, "Should we send Dick out with the chow truck?"
The captain shook his head. "He's probably tired. Have him just take it easy around the barracks until the men come back."
So I did. I'd go to the mess hall and eat before the chow truck would leave, head for beer at the PX when I was thirsty, sleep when I was weary.
Fleming and Goulding spotted me when the company returned my second night there. They were outraged. Questions such as, "Where have you been?" were fired at me. I grinned and said, "Akron." Their anger peaked.
When they ran out of breath I said, "You young guys need to learn how to read orders." They simmered down after a week or ten days.

Who are you mad at, Dick? You had never heard of Shelagh or me then.

Oh, I responded too fast--I see.

Mad? Don't you recognize a smile when you see one?

Brilliant Dick I'm sure you deserved a break.
I have to say afer seeing the photo that you age well!

Well, he didn't crease his face with laughter lines.

Sounds a bit like "the dead man in Yossarian's tent" from Joseph Heller's Catch-22.

Ann

If you look at your orders carefully, you'll know what you need to do--and what you don't. :-)

Malcolm

Dear Dick,
When I look at an old photograph, I try to see all the stuff that is around the person. The wooden steps the pots of flowers, the brick walk. I can get a feel for the place that way. It looked like crysanthemums in the pot, geraniums and those things by the walk are a mystery. It must have been spring. You had very nice shoes, and pressed pants. The shirt looks like a bamboo leaf design. You wear no rings.

That was a moment in your time. Do you recall all those small details that are in the picture?

Love,
Betty

Dick, I won't ask how old you were there as you will say, "Under 50."
By my reckoning you were 25 about to turn 26.

Great picture.

Still looks like you.

You must not eat a lot as you have not put on much weight.

Betty, the photo was taken when I stopped by my dad's house for something so I don't really know much about the surroundings. A soldier had to keep his civilian clothes as sharp as his uniform.
Alice, I was 26, a month short of my 27th birthday.

Mr. Stoghill,

I hope you don't mind if I quiz you on a few details about that time period. My father told me about a friend of his who did not enlist in WWII, I think because his father said he had to help on the farm. (I'm not sure I have these details right. It's been years since I heard the story.) Anyway, the young man was very upset he didn't get to experience the war, so when the Korean War came around, he enlisted. I've always thought this was a strange story. Did you ever meet anyone like that, either too young to fight in WWII or someone like this man? I'm asking only because I just like to try to figure out different personalities to use in my writing.

Ann - During WWII some men were deferred from the draft if they were deemed essential war workers. This included some specialty farmers, or men who were the sole operators of farms. This also happened during the Korean War. A great many men from farms served during both wars. I knew a fair number of farmers in the Army during WWII. During the war in Korea my division served as a basic training outfit so every 16 weeks or so we would get a new shipment of men. One group was made up of men from Iowa and many came from farms. They were nice guys, but very quiet and restrained. Another consisted of men from New York, New Jersey and Massachusetts and they were just the opposite, outgoing and eager to socialize. I did meet some older men, 25-30, who hadn't been in WWII and were somewhat pleased to be in the service.
People had changed drastically between the two wars. One example was walking. In WWII walking and hiking everywhere was considered normal. During the Korean War you frequently heard "Where are the trucks?" when we were 10 or 15 miles out in the field and ready to head back to camp.

Dick,

When you are right you are so right. When I am wrong I am totally wrong.
You are about to turn 84--you only have 22 years and three days on me..

I hope not Don, but you never know. I always enjoyed hearing that old expression, "There's the right way, the wrong way and the Army way."

Thanks for the information, Dick. It is amazing people changed so much from WWII to the Korean. I've always read how much more prosperity there was after the war, compared to the Depression years, so I guess that meant more cars, less walking.

I had a Top Sergeant once whose favorite saying was, "It's simply mind over matter...I don't mind and you don't matter!"

I loved those expressions that seemed to come so easy to men in the military. Too bad that so many are unprintable for polite society. Mind over matter is a great one I hadn't heard before.

Ann - that's probably the reason. WWII was fought by young men who grew up or matured during the Great Depression. Those in the Korean war caught just the tail end of it. The years between the wars were ones of excitement and rejuvenation. We thought of it as tremendous prosperity even though it was mild by later standards.

Dave said one sergeant used to say "I am not your friend."

He had that right.