About a week after I went for my pre-induction processing, I got another letter. This one announced that the current draft law had expired without being renewed, and that my induction would be delayed until the bill was passed and the law re-instated. I hadn't been watching any news on TV so wasn't aware of what was going on in the Senate or House in DC.
Turns out that everybody was trying to use the draft law to load up on pork barrel items. I'd never heard the term before, but I guess it was (and maybe still is) a common practice for politicians to add clauses to bills to get funding for pet projects in their home states. These projects could range from road work, new bridges, schools, etc. They had nothing to do with actual purpose of the bill, but provided a stealthy way to get funding without writing a separate bill for each item. They were like ticks on a dog, and the bigger the dog the more ticks. The draft law was absolutely essential, and so lots of these pork barrel items were getting loaded...and causing a great deal of infighting in congress. All of them wanted to get their pet ponies on board, but there was a limit to how much of this that could be done without government watchdog agencies raising a red flag. So...the bill was stalled while they argued and bargued about who's ticks got a ride, and who's did not.
In the meantime, I was stuck in the twilight zone. I tried to find a job, but the first question they'd always ask was what was my draft status. Awaiting my induction letter was not a good selling point, and I often would not even be allowed to fill out an application. I was bored, and anxious to find out what my future would hold for me. But the battle in DC continued from May until July....when I got some surprising news.
My dad had applied for a transfer from Huntington to Florida, hoping to get out of the cold winter weather there. They IRS had done their usual magic, and had decided to transfer him to Indianapolis instead. So, they were moving to Indiana, and my older sister Ingrid would be living in our home in Huntington. My dad suggested I go with them to Indiana, knowing that it was only a couple of weeks before I'd be drafted. I called the local induction center to ask them what to do, and they said they would transfer my induction to the center in Indianapolis...so it would not be a problem. I'd never been that far west before, so I was excited to see a new part of the country....and it took my mind off the impending draft for awhile.
When we got there, it was flat, hot and humid. I decided to look for jobs again, and the very first place I applied - I got a job. It was a convenience store with gas pumps, much like a Seven Eleven today. They had a Help Wanted sign in the window...and they asked me to start that same night. I worked the midnight to 8 am shift, and was astounded that they didn't care about my draft status. I found out why later that week when I was talking to one of our new neighbors. They were shocked that I would work at that store, and said "Didn't you hear what happened there last week?". They told me that the place had been robbed at about 3 am, with the night shift employee being kidnapped in the process. He was taken to a nearby field and nearly beaten to death...and was still in the hospital. The police had no leads on the crooks and so they were still on the loose. After that conversation I wasn't feeling quite so lucky to have found that job....but I needed the money, and so didn't quit. I sure was nervous though every time I got a late hour customer come in the door...but nothing bad happened.
Finally in November, I got a letter from the draft board that the law had been reinstated, and that I would be inducted within two weeks. All my previous worries came back full force, and I waited nervously for the letter. Just like clockwork it came, and as promised, I was told to report to the induction center in Indianapolis. I'd be doing my basic training at Fort Knox. The letter was very specific about what I could and could not bring along. Two pair of underwear, two pairs of socks and a shaving kit. No money was allowed, along with pretty much anything else.
The day I was to report was tough. My mom kept wiping tears out of her eyes, but my dad was being strong and supportive. He took me to the center to drop me off, and shook my hand. He wasn't much of a hugger at that time, and was pretty formal. I said goodbye, and went into the center to give the receptionist my letter. She handed me a packet of information, and my bus ticket to Fort Knox. She said sit here on this bench with the rest of the group waiting for the bus to pull in and take us to our basic training. There were about 30 other guys going there, and we all sat there in dead silence holding our little ditty bags. It was cold outside, and I have to admit that I felt cold on the inside too.
Then an officer came out and called my name. I went over to him, and he motioned me back inside. He explained that although the draft board had revised my induction location, they'd neglected to get all my paperwork from the pre-induction process sent to them from Ashland. I said what does that mean, and he said not to worry. I would have to do the whole thing over again there..complete physical and that pesky intelligence test again before I could take the bus. He said that they would have to put me on a much later bus that evening, but promised that I would be in my bunk by midnight. The only bad thing was that I had to get up at 5 am to begin training the next morning.
I was really depressed, knowing that my life might depend on how well I did on the intelligence test, and that I'd gotten very lucky the first time. The officer told me that I'd have to take the physical first, then the rest after. This time I was the only one going through it all, since it wasn't their regular day to be processing inductees. They were also much more complete in their physical. As the doctor listened to my heart with his stethoscope and took my pulse, he frowned. He did it again, and frowned even more.
He said "Something doesn't sound right with your heart. Ever had any problems?". In fact I had. I'd had a doctor tell me before that I had an arrhythmia and had been sent to a cardiologist when I was 18. The doctor had told me it was pretty serious, and had given me some medicine to take every day to "calm" my heart. It had made feel so stupid, that I'd thrown it away. My heart just stuttered every now and again, and make my stomach flip. But I figured it was no big deal, despite the doctor telling me that I'd probably never live to see 40, and that I should try to enjoy my life.
So, when the doc in Indianapolis asked me about it all, I told him it wasn't a problem that I was worried about. He gave me a funny look, and said that he wanted a closer look. So they hooked me up and got some readings. A couple of times while I was lying there I could feel my heart do it's skipping thing - which it was wont to do when I was tired and nervous. The doctor looked at the tracings, and said that it was significant enough that I needed to see a specialist. I was beginning to get frustrated now. All the mess ups, and delays over the past months, and I just wanted to get on with it all. So, I asked where do I go to see the new doctor, and he told me that I'd need to make an appointment and that it would take at least two more weeks to get in. I really sighed a big one then. I would have to call my dad, and ask him to come and pick me up after work to take me home again. And then go through the whole ordeal again in two weeks.
I was sent out to talk to yet another doctor who was filling out my referral paperwork and processing me out for the day. He seemed like a very nice guy, and again, I was the only person in the area. So, he started reading my paperwork more closely, and then looked up at me like I was a strange insect that had wandered in from off the street. He said "Let me get this straight. You quit school in your senior year, knowing that you'd be drafted?" My cheeks got red as I shook my head yes. He said "What in the world is wrong with you boy?" I said I knew it was stupid. He asked me what had I done since I quit, and I told him about not finding a job in West Virginia, but also explained about the job I'd gotten since moving there and the circumstances around it. He just shook his head, and then asked me what would I have done if hadn't gotten drafted. I told him that I now understood just how dumb I'd been, and that I would work until I had enough money to go back to school to finish my degree.
He just looked at me for a long time silently. Then he took a deep breath, and sighed. He looked down at my paperwork one more time, and the opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a big black ink stamp. He pounded it down several times on my papers and wrote his name at the bottom of one form. He looked up at me and said..."We'll you are not going to Vietnam. I'm giving you a 4F - not physically fit for duty. You should be more careful about the choices you make in life. So, you are free to go home now, and get on with your life. Try not to laugh before you get out the door, and my favorite beer is Bud Lite...and if a case should show up mysteriously at the back door here, I would make sure it's properly disposed of!" He then gave me a huge grin, shook my hand and waved me towards the exit door. I don't think I've ever been more surprised in my whole life by anything, and I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. He pointed to the exit again and I thanked him profusely, and then walked out the door to discover the rest of my life.
So Yogi...I didn't do a very good job of taking my fork in the road, but I'll be forever thankful to that Bud drinking stranger who saved my life that cold November morning. Thanks doc, and I'm sorry that I never got you the case of beer. But if you still want it, just let me know and I'll send you a truck load.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
A change of heart - part 1
Life is full of unexpected things - at least it seems that way for me. Some times those unexpected events can drastically change the direction and perhaps the duration of life. Yogi Berra once said "If you come to a fork in the road, take it." (if you are not familiar with Yogi - google his quotes...very funny and profound too).
The insightful part of his quote is that if you don't make a conscious choice on which fork, then life will make it for you - and you never know where that fork of the road is going to take you.
When I was in my senior year of engineering at West Virginia University, I had one of the all time brain farts I've ever had. I decided during my last semester of school, that I wasn't really cut out to be an engineer, and I quit college. Now that happens millions of times to many people - so what's the big deal? Well..this was during the height of the Vietnam war. I had what was called a student deferment, and that meant I could not be drafted as long as I maintained my good standing as a full time student.
I can't really explain why I did what I did.....it makes absolutely no sense to me at all now looking back. Truly, I was unhappy at school, and not doing very well. In fact, my first semester of my senior year I achieved an amazing 0.7 GPA (out of 4.0) pulling an F in every single class except for at C- in Psychology. If I'd done better in psych I'd have probably realized just how crazy I was and had myself committed.
The other extraordinary fact surrounding me quitting school, was my lottery number. No...not the kind you win money at but the kind that can get you killed. During the war they decided to create a lottery that determined whether you got drafted or not. So, at the beginning of each year they would pull one of those numbered ping pong balls out of an air-induced blizzard for each day of the year. Your birthdate would get assigned that number, and they would call people up for the draft in that order. If your lottery number was less than around 200 you had a very good chance of being drafted. Mine was 9 which was a sure ticket to Vietnam.
So, those crafty people in Uncle Sam noticed right away when I withdrew from school in May, and since my number was long passed, they sent me a very short induction notice. I had moved back to Huntington and was staying with my parents when I got the letter, and one week later I was a the induction center in Ashland, Kentucky with about 50 other very scared young men. We knew we were in real trouble, and that Vietnam was our next stop...and that there was a very good chance we'd be coming home in a body bag.
Before I describe what the induction process is like, I need to go back a year and tell you a different but related story. My dad worked for the IRS, and so had many friends in both state and federal government. In the summer before I quit school, he said he could help me get a summer job in the Army Corp of Engineers. They paid more than twice what I could make as a minimum wage job, and so I was of course very interested. The only thing is that I still had to follow the procedures and meet the minimum requirements before my dad's friend could offer me the job. The minimum requirement was for me to achieve a passing grade on the civil service intelligence exam. To say the standards were low would be quite an understatement. I know some dogs that would be able to pass that test.
The test had 1,000 multiple choice questions - and none of them had anything to do with actual intelligence. I'm a good test taker, and so was not concerned in the least about getting the minimun passing grade that would get me to a great summer job. So...I came in one Saturday morning to take the six hour exam. The questions were easy, and all was going well until I got to the last question. I filled in the little bubble for the correct answer on on the last question, and then realized that I was only on question 999 on the answer sheet. I was shocked, and realized that I'd skipped a question somewhere along the line and so was one off in answering the questions. I was in a panic to find where I'd made the mistake....and decided to go backwards through the questions to find where I'd gotten out of sequence. I never did find it, and ran out of time somewhere around question 800.
When my dad asked me about the test, I said that it hadn't been too hard..but I was too ashamed to tell him that I'd messed up the answer sheet somehow. I was hoping that I made the error late in the test, and that I'd still get a good enough score. That hope was dashed when my dad came home from work on Monday. He told me that his friend had "previewed" my results, and that I'd basically achieved moron status. He was pretty unhappy and my dad was very embarrassed. I tried to explain to dad what had happened, but he wasn't much in a mood to listen..and just told me that I was not allowed to retake the test for six months, and so that there was no way they could give me the job. I could also see the questioning look in his eyes...was I really a moron after all?
So..back to my draft induction process. The process took a whole day, and included both the normal drop-your-drawers-turn-your-head-and-cough check, and some intelligence testing. At this time, several friends of mine had gotten out of being drafted by tanking the intelligence test on purpose. Basically they'd been deemed too stupid to be drafted. They all encouraged me to take the same approach to the test, but my dad told me the opposite. He said that if I did really well on the test, they might give me some other assigment than just being a grunt on the ground in Vietnam - and maybe save my life. So, I decided that I'd give the test my best effort, and hope for a survivable assignment once I got drafted.
I took the test, and it actually was pretty hard. I had to guess on several questions, but got done well before time expired. So, I turned it in, and sat back down at my desk and waited. The sargeant administering the test would take each completed form into the back room and run it through a reader. He took mine, headed back to get it scored, and then came back out again with a funny look on his face.
He said very loudly "OK boys, which one of you is Hank Queen?". I was startled to hear him call my name and raised my hand slowly. He walked over to me, and stared down. He started asking me a whole string of questions. Like "Did you graduate from high school? What kind of grades did you make? Did you ever attend college?" I knew right away where he was headed. I figured that somehow I'd made a mess of the answer sheet again, and had gotten moron level scores on the test again. He was trying to understand if I was really that dumb, or just faking it for the test.
I stammered as I said "I think I know what you are doing, and I promise I did not mess up the test on purpose." He held up his hand to stop me, and said "What in the hell are you talking about son?. I just wanted to meet you in person because you scored the highest anyone has ever done on this test in our four state area." I guess the fear of death had inspired me to guess right on a bunch of questions. But I have to admit that I felt pretty good at that point and felt the hope grow in my heart that maybe I'd survive the war after all.
The physical part of the examinations was just silly. Pretty much all you had to do was still be breathing to pass. So, I finished the day with a piece of paper in hand stating that I'd passed all requirements, and would receive my formal induction notice within two weeks. I went home tired, but a little less scared than I'd begun that morning...and knew that in two weeks my life would be changed forever.
The insightful part of his quote is that if you don't make a conscious choice on which fork, then life will make it for you - and you never know where that fork of the road is going to take you.
When I was in my senior year of engineering at West Virginia University, I had one of the all time brain farts I've ever had. I decided during my last semester of school, that I wasn't really cut out to be an engineer, and I quit college. Now that happens millions of times to many people - so what's the big deal? Well..this was during the height of the Vietnam war. I had what was called a student deferment, and that meant I could not be drafted as long as I maintained my good standing as a full time student.
I can't really explain why I did what I did.....it makes absolutely no sense to me at all now looking back. Truly, I was unhappy at school, and not doing very well. In fact, my first semester of my senior year I achieved an amazing 0.7 GPA (out of 4.0) pulling an F in every single class except for at C- in Psychology. If I'd done better in psych I'd have probably realized just how crazy I was and had myself committed.
The other extraordinary fact surrounding me quitting school, was my lottery number. No...not the kind you win money at but the kind that can get you killed. During the war they decided to create a lottery that determined whether you got drafted or not. So, at the beginning of each year they would pull one of those numbered ping pong balls out of an air-induced blizzard for each day of the year. Your birthdate would get assigned that number, and they would call people up for the draft in that order. If your lottery number was less than around 200 you had a very good chance of being drafted. Mine was 9 which was a sure ticket to Vietnam.
So, those crafty people in Uncle Sam noticed right away when I withdrew from school in May, and since my number was long passed, they sent me a very short induction notice. I had moved back to Huntington and was staying with my parents when I got the letter, and one week later I was a the induction center in Ashland, Kentucky with about 50 other very scared young men. We knew we were in real trouble, and that Vietnam was our next stop...and that there was a very good chance we'd be coming home in a body bag.
Before I describe what the induction process is like, I need to go back a year and tell you a different but related story. My dad worked for the IRS, and so had many friends in both state and federal government. In the summer before I quit school, he said he could help me get a summer job in the Army Corp of Engineers. They paid more than twice what I could make as a minimum wage job, and so I was of course very interested. The only thing is that I still had to follow the procedures and meet the minimum requirements before my dad's friend could offer me the job. The minimum requirement was for me to achieve a passing grade on the civil service intelligence exam. To say the standards were low would be quite an understatement. I know some dogs that would be able to pass that test.
The test had 1,000 multiple choice questions - and none of them had anything to do with actual intelligence. I'm a good test taker, and so was not concerned in the least about getting the minimun passing grade that would get me to a great summer job. So...I came in one Saturday morning to take the six hour exam. The questions were easy, and all was going well until I got to the last question. I filled in the little bubble for the correct answer on on the last question, and then realized that I was only on question 999 on the answer sheet. I was shocked, and realized that I'd skipped a question somewhere along the line and so was one off in answering the questions. I was in a panic to find where I'd made the mistake....and decided to go backwards through the questions to find where I'd gotten out of sequence. I never did find it, and ran out of time somewhere around question 800.
When my dad asked me about the test, I said that it hadn't been too hard..but I was too ashamed to tell him that I'd messed up the answer sheet somehow. I was hoping that I made the error late in the test, and that I'd still get a good enough score. That hope was dashed when my dad came home from work on Monday. He told me that his friend had "previewed" my results, and that I'd basically achieved moron status. He was pretty unhappy and my dad was very embarrassed. I tried to explain to dad what had happened, but he wasn't much in a mood to listen..and just told me that I was not allowed to retake the test for six months, and so that there was no way they could give me the job. I could also see the questioning look in his eyes...was I really a moron after all?
So..back to my draft induction process. The process took a whole day, and included both the normal drop-your-drawers-turn-your-head-and-cough check, and some intelligence testing. At this time, several friends of mine had gotten out of being drafted by tanking the intelligence test on purpose. Basically they'd been deemed too stupid to be drafted. They all encouraged me to take the same approach to the test, but my dad told me the opposite. He said that if I did really well on the test, they might give me some other assigment than just being a grunt on the ground in Vietnam - and maybe save my life. So, I decided that I'd give the test my best effort, and hope for a survivable assignment once I got drafted.
I took the test, and it actually was pretty hard. I had to guess on several questions, but got done well before time expired. So, I turned it in, and sat back down at my desk and waited. The sargeant administering the test would take each completed form into the back room and run it through a reader. He took mine, headed back to get it scored, and then came back out again with a funny look on his face.
He said very loudly "OK boys, which one of you is Hank Queen?". I was startled to hear him call my name and raised my hand slowly. He walked over to me, and stared down. He started asking me a whole string of questions. Like "Did you graduate from high school? What kind of grades did you make? Did you ever attend college?" I knew right away where he was headed. I figured that somehow I'd made a mess of the answer sheet again, and had gotten moron level scores on the test again. He was trying to understand if I was really that dumb, or just faking it for the test.
I stammered as I said "I think I know what you are doing, and I promise I did not mess up the test on purpose." He held up his hand to stop me, and said "What in the hell are you talking about son?. I just wanted to meet you in person because you scored the highest anyone has ever done on this test in our four state area." I guess the fear of death had inspired me to guess right on a bunch of questions. But I have to admit that I felt pretty good at that point and felt the hope grow in my heart that maybe I'd survive the war after all.
The physical part of the examinations was just silly. Pretty much all you had to do was still be breathing to pass. So, I finished the day with a piece of paper in hand stating that I'd passed all requirements, and would receive my formal induction notice within two weeks. I went home tired, but a little less scared than I'd begun that morning...and knew that in two weeks my life would be changed forever.
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