...I went into the US Army. I was such a kid.

My father drove me from the family home in Sandusky down here to our former "city," Tiffin, and said goodbye to me in front of Turner's Restaurant (long gone now) where the bus was to pick me up. Dad had tears and so did I.

I rode the bus from town to town, picking up other enlistees and eventually we got to the Induction Center in Columbus. There we were sworn-in. We also got a couple of injections and received our ID cards.

Another bus took our rather large group to the railroad station where we boarded a train that took us down to Louisville, KY. There we got on another bus and headed for Fort Knox, just south of that city.

I remember it was dark as we slowed to make the turn into the large Army camp. Along the side of the road we saw a fast food joint, the first I had ever seen. It had big yellow arches and a sign that read, "OVER ONE MILLION HAMBURGERS SOLD!"

Imagine! It was one of the first McDonald's restaurants.

We were herded off the bus and through a line of buildings at the US ARMY Reception Center. We had to strip off and carry out civilian clothes from table to table where we were asked our height and weight. Soon as we spoke a troop slapped down articles of olive drab uniforms and clothing and we picked them up and hurried along.

In a few hours we had our basic "issue" and were rushed into a two-story wooden WW II barracks and assigned our bunks and foot lockers. We had to go to another building with our civilian clothes and shoes, where we were given boxes in order to ship our clothes home.

Then back to the barracks and ordered to go to bed. Our beds were rolled-up thin mattresses, with one pillow and a single army wool blanket. They would pass out the sheets and pillowcases next day.

It was very late when we finally got some sleep.

We spent a little over a week at the reception center, getting more shots, more issued items and some very basic instructions in who to salute and who not to salute. There were no drills or marching. We had to do work. I was assigned to the scullery in a mess hall and washed pots and pans, ran a potato peeling machine and mopped a few floors.

Finally, we were given our orders. I went with my duffel bag stuffed with my new clothes and boots onto a bus that took us to some airport. We boarded an old C-46 twin-engine prop plane and flew down to Temple, Texas, got on another bus that took my group to Fort Hood.

That is another story, but I won't forget the first sight I had as the bus rolled up to our shiny new concrete three-story barracks where we would undergo eight weeks of hot, laborious and punishing basic training.

I saw a young recruit standing at attention in the parking lot and an old Sergeant in a broad-brimmed hat was screaming at him, the Sergeant's mouth only a half inch away from the poor sap's nose.



I'll never forget the look on that kid's face.

(TO BE CONTINUED...)