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.
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