Gasoline was rationed during World War II, and so were most of the things we used, such as sugar, meat, tobacco, tires, and dairy products. To get gasoline for the car I had to apply to the local ration board, and since I was using the car as a pool car to take people to and from work, I was issued a "B" sticker which would allow me to buy 10 gallons of gasoline a month while anyone with an "A" sticker could only get 5 gallons a month. As a "car pooler" I could also apply for, and get a certificate to buy tires, as I needed them. The speed limit was 35 miles per hour, and by observing the speed limit and killing the engine at all traffic lights while I waited for them to turn green, I was able to save up enough gas coupons to take Lois to Texas.

When I told Lois I wanted to take her to Texas, she said she would go, and the following Saturday night we drove the thirty or so miles to Newton, Texas, which was just over the state line from Louisiana. We really enjoyed the trip. That was the first time we had been together alone, and I realized I had found the girl of my dreams. I told her that I was going to marry her and I will never forget her reply, "I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth." She later changed her mind.

The trip to Texas and the evening together were something to always remember. We had a flat on the way back to De Ridder and since the spare tire was not very good, I drove very slowly and so it was 11 o'clock when we got back to Ma Hanchey's boarding house. When we got there we learned that Lois' brother, Newman, had been to see her and she had missed him. I felt very badly about her missing him. I was to feel much worse about it later when he was shipped over seas without getting to see her again.

Although the job at the Air Base was a good job and I could have been deferred from the military draft for the duration of the war, I was not happy, because I wanted to fly the airplanes and not just work on them. Besides that, I was catching a lot of flack from the soldiers on the base who would greet me with names like "draft dodger" or "4-F'er". I decided to take the examination for pilot training in the Army Air Corps Aviation Cadet program. If I passed, I could volunteer for the draft and then be transferred from whichever branch I was drafted into, to the Army Air Corps, and be flying again. I took the test and passed.

I asked Lois to marry me, if and when I graduated from flight training. She accepted my proposal, and after I bought her a simple engagement ring, we told our friends and relatives.

There were lots of things to be done and not much time to do them in. Mother had to be moved to Teague, Texas, where she had rented an apartment from "Aunt" Bertha Allison, and would stay until I returned from the war. Aunt Bert was a lifelong friend of Mother's, and her daughter, Mary Jo, had been my first girl friend. Mother and Aunt Bert had always thought and hoped that Mary Jo and I would marry, but Mary Jo had met Tommy Shoemake and I had met Lois Cooper.

I sold my car, turned in my resignation at the Air Base, and spent as much time with Lois as I could during the last 30 days before I went in to the Army. I had been drafted into the Army, after volunteering for the draft, and that gave me a much better chance of being transferred to the Army Air Corps than if I had gone into the Navy or Marines. I was sworn in at Fort Humbug, near Shreveport, Louisiana, in August 1943 and received orders to report to Camp Beauregard, near Leesville, Louisiana, on September 9, 1943.

Camp Beauregard was an induction center where we received our uniforms and some basic training while we were there. I placed my application for transfer to the Army Air Corps with the base commander as soon as I arrived at the camp. I found out very quickly that I did not want to stay in the Army. I caught K.P., an abbreviation for "kitchen police", the second day I was there. I never saw as many dirty pots and pans to clean nor as many potatoes to peel in my life before.

After a couple of weeks I was assigned to guard duty and given a rifle loaded with blanks. We would walk a designated post which was given a number such as "Post Number 4". We were to report anything we observed that appeared unusual to the Corporal of the Guard by calling for him through the adjoining post guards. We would patrol our post for 2 hours, rest for 4 hours, and patrol for 2 more hours, until we had been on duty for 24 hours.

My first tour of duty came at midnight, and all went well until about 1 o'clock in the morning when I passed under a big oak tree and a screech owl greeted me. He scared me so badly I fired a shot into the air. That woke up everybody and his brother. My transfer to the Army Air Corps came through the next day; I have often wondered if they transferred me to get rid of me.

I reported to Amarillo Army Air Base, Texas, on November 3, 1943 for Aviation Cadet basic training and psychomotor testing. The psychomotor test was given to determine our qualifications for pilot, navigator, and/or bombardier training. I qualified for all three positions and chose pilot training. The rest of our stay there was spent learning military discipline, physical training, and outfitting our uniforms and equipment.

My squadron reported to Arizona State Teachers College in Tempe, Arizona on the 5th day of December 1943, and we started studying college level English, mathematics, geography, and history. We continued learning military discipline and started a strenuous physical training program. We soon learned we would not receive a pass to go to town until we could run five miles. The bugler playing reveille at 5 a.m would awaken us. And we go to bed when he played taps at 10 p.m. There were to be no rest periods between reveille and taps.

Although I thought I had led a disciplined life to that point in time, I found out what discipline really was at the Army Air Corps College Training Detachment, which was referred to as C.T.D. Everything was done by the book, and the book covered everything that we did from the time we awoke in the morning until we went to sleep at night. All our actions were regimental and routine.

At reveille, we sprang out of bed, made up our bunks; pulling the top blanket tight enough to bounce a nickel on, dusted the furniture, shaved, and fell out for muster ( roll call ). We had 15 minutes to complete all these chores. If you were a "slow poke" and late for muster, you were given "gigs", which required walking with a parachute strapped to your back, on Saturday, while your buddies went to town on pass. Each gig required one hour of walking. I never got a gig while I was in C.T.D.

After muster, and while still in formation, we would march at double time to the mess hall, counting cadence, and singing. All movements of the squadron were made in formation, including the chow line, and all motions of the arms, legs, and head were made in absolute unison. We functioned as one, always putting the team effort above the individual effort.

All meals were "square" meals, for example, when you picked up something from your plate with your fork, you raised the fork straight up until it was even with your mouth and directly above your plate, moved the fork straight to your mouth, then returned it to the plate for another bite in reverse order, and repeated the movement with the next bite. If you wanted something passed to you, such as salt, you turned to the Cadet on your right and asked him to pass it to you even if it was in front of the Cadet to your left. The Cadet to your right would turn to the Cadet on his right, and relay the request on down the line, around the table to the Cadet on your left, who would pass the salt to the Cadet on his left, and after being relayed all around the table, the Cadet on your right would hand you the salt, which you would then apply to your food using "square" motions. When the last Cadet had finished his meal the squadron commander would say, "All rise, right face, column forward, march." In response we would march out of the mess hall and fall into our squadron formation outside. After arriving at our dormitory, we had 15 minutes to brush our teeth, freshen up and then fall back into formation to go to our next class.

It was comical to watch a Cadet walk alone on the sidewalks on campus. First, the rules required that he walk at attention and all corners were to be "square" corners. Then, if the Cadet wanted to go to the dormitory directly across the street, he was required to walk to the end of the block, stop, extend his arms, look up, say, " Clear above", look down, say, " Clear below", look to the right, say, " Clear to the right", look to the left, say, " Clear to the left", execute a left face movement, return his arms to his sides, and proceed to cross the street. After crossing the street, he would repeat the same thing at the next corner, and so on until reaching his destination. Sound silly? Yes, but it taught him to never turn his airplane be fore looking above, below, to the right, and to the left. - - Discipline was the name of the game.

We began our flight training in Piper J-3 Cubs at Sky Harbor Airport in nearby Phoenix, Arizona. The drive to the airport took us across the Salt River, passed Al Capone's house, and to the southeast side of the City of Phoenix, nine miles from Tempe. There were no houses except Al Capone's between the two cities then, only desert, saguaro cactus, and rattle snakes. In 1982, when Lois and I visited Tempe and Phoenix, you could not tell when you left one and entered the other. In 1943, you could see Superstition Mountain, 40 miles away from Phoenix, in 1982, smog had cut visibility to the point that you could not see Tempe, 9 miles away.

Mother and Uncle Bruce Jordan came to Tempe in January of 1944, Uncle Bruce only stayed a few days, but Mother spent the winter there. I was busy in Cadet training at Williams Army Air Base, near Chandler, and could only spend weekends with her, but we enjoyed what time we had. She loved the mountains and desert, and marveled at the beautiful sunrises and sunsets. She wanted to climb a mountain, and even though she was 57 years old, she beat me to the top of the mountain between the college campus and the Salt River. As she put it, " You could see forever from up there".

While Mother was in Tempe, the father of a Cadet friend of mine was living in Phoenix and selling real estate. He wanted to show me some acreage north of Camelback Mountain and northeast of the City of Phoenix. We drove out to look, there was nothing but dry desert, and even though I could have bought it from him for a dollar and a half an acre, Mother advised me not to buy it. She was better at Jewing down car salesmen than she was at judging what Jewish real estate salesmen had to offer. That same land is now covered with expensive homes and brought the developers at least six thousand dollars an acre.

In May of 1944 the war began to wind down for the Army Air Corps and I was notified that the Aviation Cadet program was soon to be ended and I would be transferred to the regular Army Air Corps. In the mean time I was to get a two-week furlough and was free to go home for that period of time. I was unhappy about not being able to finish the Cadet program, but was happy to get the furlough.

I sent Lois a telegram asking her to meet me in Teague so that we could marry. She was still at De Ridder and agreed to meet me at Mother's. We were married on May 8, 1944, by a First Baptist preacher named John O. Scott. Our witnesses were Mr. and Mrs. Laudie Rogers and Mrs. W. P. Loggins. Lois had to buy the license; I did not have enough money.