One day in late May of 1945 a friend, James Beckham, came driving up to where we (a Roustabout Gang in oil field) were working (i.e., digging a ditch for a pipeline). He said that his brother Vance had just gotten home in Monahans after being a POW in Germany for 27 months. He was a B17 pilot who had been shot down over Germany. I immediately jumped into the pickup with James without any regard for the consequences of 'walking' off the job. And also I thought I would soon be in the army and would be going to fight in the war against the Japanese. So off we went to Monahans, a small town in far west Texas.
When Vance was liberated his twin brother Vivian, the fighter pilot, was based in Belgium and somehow found out where Vance was. He flew to the prison camp; picked Vance up and they went to Paris. After a few days of celebration and getting new clothing, Vance hitch-hiked from Paris to London on a AAF plane; then to Kelly Field in San Antonio. That was the first place he reported in as an ex POW. At first they thought they had a nut case on their hands but after getting records from Washington, found out that he really was who he said he was. By that time he had been promoted to Major and had 27 months of back pay coming. Most of the people I have told that story to looked at me like I was telling a tall tale, but it was really true.
On the way home to Monahans from San Antonio on the train he got tired of seeing cars passing the train. So at some town he got off the train, bought an old car (new ones were not available) and drove on in to Monahans. I helped him work on the car, mainly just handing him wrenches when he needed them, and when he got it "fixed" we went to El Paso. We stayed there about a week visiting some of his relatives. He also had at least one girl friend there. She rode back to Monahans with us.
When we got back I went on home to Forsan thinking I would just wait to be drafted. My parents still wouldn't let me volunteer. After a couple of weeks Gene Sweeney, the District Superintendent, came over and asked me if I wanted to go back to work there in Forsan until I got drafted. And so they forgave me for "walking off the job" at Kermit and I went back to work. I also started taking flying lessons in Big Spring in a Piper Cub. On the day I became 18 on July 29, 1945 I rushed into Big Spring and volunteered for immediate induction so I could finally get into the war and do my part. Eight days later they dropped the Atom Bomb! That ended the war with Japan, but I was drafted promptly on August 28, 1945. I was inducted at Fort Bliss, El Paso on August 28, just 30 days after I had volunteered. After getting a bunch of injections and ill-fitting uniforms I was sent to Camp Crowder at Neosho, Missouri for basic training. Basic training was quite an experience and I enjoyed just about every minute of it except for Thanksgiving dinner. The turkey was OK, but the dressing was black and sticky! I really got homesick that day!
During basic training that lasted three months I was assigned the duty, when we used rifles, to unlock and lock the rifle rack on the first floor. The problem was that I had to go upstairs to get the key to the downstairs rifle rack. (typical good thinking on the part of the army). On my way up the stairs to get the key I had to fight my way past all the GIs coming down; unlock the rifle rack and pass out the rifles; take the key back upstairs - AND get to 'formation' as soon as everyone else. Really had to struggle to make the formation on time, but somehow always made it on time. Nothing like being 18 and eager!
Just about two or three weeks before basic training was to end we were out learning how to throw hand grenades and shoot rifle grenades. In the midst of this an officer came roaring up in a jeep and started talking to our platoon leader (2nd Lieutenant). The Lt. called us over and without any explanation told us we were going back to camp on the double. We didn't know what was going on; war or what. At the camp the battalion commander told us we were going on a trip and had 30 minutes to pack everything we owned and get into formation. We then were loaded on trucks and off we went still not knowing what was going on. We left about 4pm and drove until about midnite. We stopped at some army base where they finally fed us. Then back in the trucks and on our way again. In the wee hours of the morning we arrived at Fort Crook, Nebraska not far from Omaha. Fort Crook at that time was where they were keeping Italian POWS.
They put us up in the same fenced in compound, but separate buildings. The next morning they explained that we were to take part in a tour of several cities, marching in each one. The first city was Omaha, then Des Moines, several towns near Des Moines and then Kansas City, Missouri. In either Omaha or Kansas we marched right behind General Jonathan Wainwright who had been a Japanese POW for over three years and had been free only two months. He also was one of those who were in the infamous Bataan Death March where many Gis died or were just murdered. Before he was captured his nickname was "Skinny". When I saw him he was still skinny; it had been only three months since he was liberated and had been almost starved like the rest of the POWS in Japanese Prison camps. In all the places where we paraded there were multitudes of people watching the parades. They seemed to think that we were recently arrived combat veterans. Little did they know that we were just raw trainees!
After we paraded in Omaha we went to Des Moines and were put up in Fort Des Moines, a WAC (Women's Army Corps) basic training center. There were 5000 women trainees and only 500 of us (all men). We stayed there a week and had no trouble meeting "girls". A friend of mine knew two civilian girls in Des Moines however, and we dated them almost every night. Went to picture shows every night and then back to the base before curfew at midnight.
After we got back to Camp Crowder we completed basic training and I was then assigned to a Radio Operators school. This was in the days when communications training included learning Morse Code! I really wasn't too thrilled about that and about that time they came out with a deal where you could sign up for three years and get your choice of branch of service and told us we could get our choice of initial assignment overseas. I signed up for the Army Air Corps (later became the Air Force) and selected the European Theater of Operations. Was sent to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, a redistribution center. Stayed there a couple of weeks and then in December sent to Greensboro, North Carolina to be processed to go to Europe. The "waiters" in the mess hall chow line were all German POWS. They were all fat and happy and seemed thrilled to be there.
A veteran GI came into the barracks one day with a pair of brand new combat boots. I threw a fit over them and he told me he could get me a pair too. He filled out a form (which was illegal); I took it down to the supply depot and was so nervous I was shaking in my shoes. I gave them the illegal form, got the combat boots, and started to high-tail it outa there. Just as I got to the door to leave I heard a loud deep voice saying "Soldier!". I turned around; saw an officer, and said innocently "Who, me?". He said "Yes, You. Come over here and try on those boots to make sure they fit". I managed to get up on a chair, put the boots on and he checked them out and said "OK, they fit you". I got myself out of there and thanked the Lord that I didn't get caught. That was the last time I ever tried anything like that.
A few days before Christmas, and homesick time, I was called in for an interview. The interviewer asked me if I had been given my choice of initial assignment. When I said I had, but it had to be overseas she said "Oh no..your'e supposed to get your choice anywhere including the United States and it's not too late. So I said "OK, send me to Big Spring Army Air Force Base". (This was only 15 miles from my home). Two or three days later I received orders sending me to Big Spring. I called my folks and told them I was coming home. Went on a train and arrived in Big Spring on Christmas Eve. Pop was there waiting for me. He had been meeting all the passenger trains coming in from the east for about two days! When I told him I had been transferred to Big Spring he told me that the base had been closed for over a month. We drove out there and sure enough there was not a soul there...Just empty buildings.
The day after Christmas I drove back to the base and saw three people down by a railroad track loading stuff into a train car. Went down there and met an officer and two enlisted men. They were on temporary duty from another air base. When I showed the officer my orders transferring me there he said "I don't know what to do with you. Why don't you just go home and meet me after the first of the year. He gave me his address and phone number. He and I even played golf together a few times and he and his wife came out to my home one night to visit. (I think maybe he wanted to verify that I had a home!)
It was several weeks before they could figure out what to do with me... and then transferred me to San Angelo, about 60 miles south of my home. When I reported in there they said they didn't have my personnel papers, couldn't put me to work without them, and started giving me three-day passes to go home. After several of those, the First Sergeant said "Why don't you just go home and call me every two or three days until we get your records". So I did, and that lasted for three or four weeks.
Finally my service records arrived; I reported in hoping to start training as an aircraft mechanic or part of an air crew, anything connected with airplanes, but the office I reported in to decided I need go no further and put me to work there as a Classification and Assignment Specialist, a job that I continued for the rest of my career in the Air Force. I wound up liking the work and I liked the people I worked with - and it was only about 60 miles from home. Six months later however, I was transferred to Perrin Army Air Base between Sherman and Denison, Texas. This base was on a "standby" status with a few officers and enlisted men; about 90 people in all. There were no Military Police and we were free to come and go without passes. Also there was no mess hall. They paid us extra for meals and we usually ate in the NCO club.
When I got to Perrin Air Field I was flat broke and asked the Financial Officer (also a pilot) if I could get an advance on my pay. He was real nice and gave me an advance right then and there. His name was James Jabara. About a year later when I was on Okinawa I met him there again. Later on during the Korean war he became the first American Ace (shot down five enemy planes; then on another tour to Korea he shot down 10 more).
I got a part-time job at the officers club at Perrin as a bartender. Also got free meals that were real good; same as the officers got. I met three civilian girls in Sherman: one of them was the daughter of the Sheriff, one was the daughter of a man who was the President of a flour mill and the other was a farmer's daughter. When I continued taking flying lessons (had started at Big Spring before I went into the service), the Sheriff's daughter had a car. She would come out to the base, take me to the civilian airport and wait on me while I took my lesson, and then take me back to the base.
Don't remember how the three girls found out, but on my 19th birthday they threw a "birthday party" for me, big cake and all. In other words they were real nice girls. One of the guys in my barracks was only about 19, but had lied about his age and got in the Marine Corps when he was 15, and had a lot of real combat experience. He was a real nice guy and good looking, but almost every other word out of his mouth was a "cuss" word. He had seen me with the three girls and started bugging me to get him a date with one of them. I kept telling him he cussed too much and the girls were too nice for that. Finally one day he promised me he wouldn't say one single cuss word if I'd get him a date. So I talked the Sheriff's daughter into it (she had a car!). Two of the girls came out to the base and we went to the NCO Club. Everything was going real well for a while until all of a sudden Debbie (the ex-Marine) yelled out "Hey bartender, bring me another fu..... beer!". That brought the "dates" to a screeching halt and I had to do a lot of apologizing to the girls. Debbie apologized profusely to me - and them - but didn't do much good as far as they were concerned. End of blind dates!
Coming up next: Romance and Okinawa. Ain't that an oxymoron !