Virginity and Army Life

Losing my virginity on the front lawn of the Capital building in Sacramento, asking to be transferred to a unit going overseas, making Corporal, my Father wanting to get a General friend of his to get me into OTC and me turning him down.

It all started with me going to the draft board and jumping up and down to get into the service. I asked to have my 4F status reviewed, which they did and stamped my papers "Not to be shipped overseas" at my insistence (ignored later on). The day I went into the service, March 30, 1943, I felt like King Kong as my folks said goodbye to me at Pennsylvania Station. This scene is still emblazoned in my mind's eye. I was on my way to Fort Dix, NJ for "indoctrination". Then after a few days, it was off to Fort Sill, Oklahoma for basic training in the field artillery.

Taking a Bronx Jew like me and slapping my ass into Oklahoma was traumatic. Lawton, Oklahoma was not quite like 42nd Street in N.Y. Being the only guy from NY, I was sure that no one else in my unit knew jack shit. I had little difficulty in pissing off a lot of people. But after being in a few fist fights and getting my head handed to me a few times, I toned that rhetoric down a lot. Passive aggressive behavior then became fun for me.

Marching to "Over Hill Over Dale" with a heavy rifle (no carbines at basic training) and a back pack that seemed to weigh 100 pounds was not like spending a day at the beach. I found that Oklahoma had absolutely nothing to recommend it. Downright ugly with downright ugly weather. Basic training was not, on any level, fun. Constant discomfort with everyone pissing and moaning and groaning over the physical stress plus something less then gourmet food became my lifestyle. Intellectual stimulation was no where to be found.

Then, I was shipped to Fort Worden and the Coast Artillery. It was on the Olympic Peninsula, very beautiful. The fort is currently a National Park. I "pulled" KP duty for my first three weeks there. My big mouth and my general fuck you attitude did me in again with the First Sargent. After three solid weeks of peeling potatoes, I saw a guy packing his duffle bag and I asked him where he was going. "To radio operator school outside of Sacramento," he said. I quickly realized that I had just discovered my exit from a lifetime of peeling spuds and washing giant pots and pans. It was my day off (2 on 1 off, the "on" days were 16 hour days). I hustled my fat ass down to headquarters and was allowed to see the company commander. He wanted to know why I wanted to go to radio operator's school. I told him the truth, that I just wanted get the hell out of my new career of "pulling" KP. I guess the truth startled him so that he said okay and told the First Sargent to draw up the papers. I was gone the next day on a beautiful train ride from Seattle, past Mt. Shasta to Sacramento and my introduction to California. Very exciting stuff.