It was the middle of December, 1952, when my remarkable year of discovery came crashing to an end. So many things had happened since my high school graduation and my years in college. High school had been unhappy time for me and as I thought about going to college, my Youth Pastor, took me aside and shared some sage advice: “College is a new start, Stanley. What you may have thought of yourself up to this point, is behind you. What is through that new door is anything you want to make it. You can be who you want to be. Don’t take with you anything dark that you imagine you used to be. Be the one you want to be.”
I took his advice. When I hit the college campus I was a different person. I surprised myself by being outgoing and by the end of the first-quarter, I knew practically everyone on campus, and what was more surprising was everyone knew me. And so, it was throughout that first year, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, was involved in so many things, pledged to a fraternity, was named captain of my pledge class and I made the freshman basketball team. What was more important in my young mind was a lovely girl from Indianapolis, Barbara.
So, you may wonder what came crashing to an end? My new life, that’s what. That first year of being a social animal, so well-liked, continued into my sophomore year, when two things exploded: My wonderful girl-friend dumped me, and my grades failed. My government draft deferment? Lost! The Korean War was in full swing, and my draft number would be coming up.
Sure enough, in January, 1953, I was put on a bus to Fort Leonard Wood Missouri, and Army basic training. Fort Leonard Wood in the middle of winter it’s not where you would want to be. We called it pneumonia central. I stepped from the bus and was ordered to stand in line. What happened next was a blur of physical examinations and shots, until finally we were assigned to a barracks, and met drill Sargent Gilbert, who barked orders at us so fast and loud we could barely understand!
In all this dark cloud was were three silver linings: First, and foremost, a 32 by 16 by 13 wooden footlocker, my own bunk, and I met one fellow soldier, Bruce, who, to this day, is my long-distance friend.
You know things come into our lives and it is in retrospect that we realize how important they were. Who would’ve thought that bunk and the wooden footlocker would become home. Would become a source of comfort and security in a dizzying world of basic training. At the end of a disciplined day of full-pack, five and ten-mile marches, extended time on the firing line, and learning the weapons of war, there was nothing better than being back in our barracks and that iron bunk of mine, just mine.
That foot-locker came to hold the best of me. Not just clean uniforms, but all my special things, letters from home and from friends, books to be read, a journal that held my scribblings. Yes, special things, but more than that, MY Property at a time when the feeling was that everything I had or was belonged to the government. The favorite saying of our drill sergeant?: “Your ass is mine!”, and he wasn’t kidding, as he drove us and drove us. I can’t tell you how much I looked forward to that bunk and what was in that wooden box at the end of the bunk. Who knew they would get me through military training.
At the end of 12 weeks of basic and advanced training, we were assigned. My reasoning had been that volunteering for the draft would get me a better assignment than Korea, maybe in Europe. I knew I would love France! But, oh how wrong I was. Assignment: Tong Du Shunee on the DMZ in the midst of the Korean War!
Our retrospective vision is so much better than the reality of what we went through at that time. I once told my son that I was sorry that he had a vision problem and could not serve in the military. He just smiled at me as if he knew something that I didn’t. To this day, I value my time in the Army, even in Korea. I think volunteer service is a wonderful thing, and serving in the military, while hard at the start, is such an important and selfless way to serve this country.
Never under estimate the importance of little things in our lives, so much of the time they are the things that hold us together, keep our sanity, and draw us ever closer to God and His blessings.
For What It’s Worth.
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