Fort Lewis, Washington in early February of 1969 was not a very hospitable place, especially if you were already homesick before you even got there.
A decrepit old military bus unceremoniously dumped me off in the middle of the frozen night and some foul-mouthed sergeant wearing a Smokey the Bear hat pulled all the way down over his eyebrows seemed determined to keep screaming at me and my fellow inductees until dawn.
A wet, blowing snow kept falling and my West Sacramento attire (which consisted of a short-sleeved shirt, cords, tennis shoes and a windbreaker) simply wasn’t keeping any of my important body parts warm.
Harry (not his real name), on the other hand, was layered in the proper clothing and appeared to be almost oblivious to a windchill factor which had to be well below zero. He suddenly nudged me hard with his bony little elbow.
“What?” I asked.
“Your teeth are chattering again, man, and it’s driving me nuts!”
“Well, excuse me.” I said.
“Quiet down there!” screamed Smokey the Bear as loud as he could.
For reasons completely unknown to me, Harry, a 21-year-old male model and former Golden Gloves boxing champion (or at least that was the way he described himself at the time) from Buffalo, New York, had aggressively befriended me the moment I had sat down next to him for the hour or so bus ride from the airport to the induction center. He was hyper, arrogant, and vulgar, but I liked him immediately. That didn’t seem to surprise Harry in the least. He apparently was very accustomed to being liked.
“I wonder if we’re ever going to get to eat around this damn place?” he asked me as we stood around in ankle-deep snow and tried unsuccessfully to blow some warmth into our hands.
“How can you even think of food at a time like this?” I asked in amazement. “I’m freezing to death here.”
“It’s all just part of their stupid little game,” Harry explained. “This clown is trying to break us down. It’s the oldest Army trick in the book. It’s the same reason they’re going to shave our heads tomorrow and make us all wear green underwear. And why do you think our bus just happened to get here at 3:30 in the damn morning? Mentally and physically, they want to mess with our heads — break us down — and for the next nine weeks, this is going to be nothing but one big crock of crap.”
Smokey the Bear was suddenly right in Harry’s face. “I thought I told you to be quiet!” he yelled.
“Excuse me, Sergeant,” I finally said as politely as I could, worried that if I wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom soon my first act as a soldier was going to be a pretty disgusting one, “how much longer do you think we’re going to have to stand around out here in the snow? I have to go to the bathroom — and I’m freezing, too.” Harry was impressed.
“Cold are you?” asked the sergeant with apparent compassion. “Now do you know what’s really good for that?” I shook my head `no’.
“Running in place!” he roared. “Now go on, get those knees up! I want to see them touching your chin!”
As I began running in place, the sergeant made his way back to the center of the formation and yelled, “Now listen up! All of you! Have any of you boys been to college?”
Harry’s eyes lit up and he thrust his hand high into the cold air and waved it back and forth for all he was worth. “Come on, Daryl,” he urged me, “get your hand up! This is our chance, man.”
“Chance for what?” I asked between gasps for air as I continued to jog in place.
“To separate ourselves from the rest of this rabble,” he explained. “Check out some of these turkeys, man. Most of them look like they just walked off the damn mountain.”
I glanced around and only two or three other hands had been raised. “I don’t know, Harry. Just before I left home, my dad told me that whatever I do, don’t volunteer for anything.”
Harry shook his head in disbelief. “You’re going to blow it big time, man. They’re probably looking for officer material or something. Now get your damn hand up!”
I reluctantly raised my hand and quickly discovered that jogging in place is much more difficult that way. I kept tipping over towards Harry and he kept angrily shoving me back where I belonged.
“I only see five hands,” finally bellowed the sergeant, “but I guess that’s going to have to do. Okay, now those of you with your hand up, please step forward.”
I didn’t particularly like the way the sergeant forced himself to say the word `please’, but I gladly stopped jogging in place and stepped to the front with Harry.
“Did I tell you you could stop running in place?” the sergeant screamed at me, and only after I quickly began churning away again did he resume his train of thought. “Alright, now,” he finally continued, “I’ve got a special little treat for all of you college boys!” A huge, sadistic grin spread out all over his face. “You get to spend your first 24 hours in the United States Army pulling KP duty! My congratulations to each and every one of you little college smart-asses!”
The rabble behind us burst into laughter.