Advanced Writing Class – Miltary Recruiters – Senior Year

I can’t remember our teacher’s name, but he had the misfortune to look like a cross between Ichabod Crane and the Papa-oom-mow-mow Man of Goulardie’s 60’s TV show fame. He was a very good teacher and got me started in writing poetry, though none of it remains, lost in my parent’s attic after I left home, and tossed when it was cleaned out and the house sold after their deaths. My brother, Ted, was Dad’s Executor and chose to toss everything into a dumpster he placed in the front yard before selling the house. I was living in Kent at the time and not consulted.

Military Recruiters: The Vietnam war was raging, and all male seniors were required to register with the draft by their 18th birthday. which I did the preceding June (I was a year behind everyone else) and expected my lottery number to be drawn. So when the recruiters came and offered an aptitude test to see where we could best ‘serve our country’ I took their little test. I scored high in ‘cryptanalysis’. They told me that if I joined the Airforce, they’d send me to Japan to finish my martial art training and to school to learn how to break codes. That sounded good to me, so I agreed and went to take my physical right after graduation. My friend Bruce joined the Marines (his undoing, unfortunately).

No, the Airforce rejected me on the basis of my eyes. I did try to join the other branches… all except the Army. And I didn’t fail to mention that I’d just failed the Air Force physical. They all refused me out of hand. A few months later, I received my classification, 1Y.  I never did find out what it actually meant, but I was never called or bothered-with again. When I was in my late 30s, they reclassified me… without contacting me in any way except to mail me my new draft card, classification, 4F (not fit for service).

Guy actually did join the Airforce in ‘68 and told me that their promises were sucker-bet lies, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

To be Continued

–LE