Chapter Four--The Air Force Days
It was just a few blocks to my folks’ house and this was a time without cell phones so we walked and left our boxes unguarded until we could go and get the car. One thing for sure, from then on for quite a while, we traveled lighter.
I’m not sure that they were aware that we were coming that day, or any day for that matter. However, as I recall we were civil to each other and got through about two weeks of togetherness. Looking back on that incident now, I don’t remember trying to see Carolyn’s side of what probably was a very traumatic time for her. I guess I was either dense, ignorant, young and inexperienced at married life, or all of the above.
I don’t have the exact chronology down but it was soon, meaning no more than a day or so, that I was in an Air Force recruiter’s office in Waco signing documents that would change my life. One vivid memory from all that was the look on his face, and the words that came out of his mouth when I put the duffle bag (with all my Marine stuff) on the gunny’s desk at the Marine reserve center in Waco. He said “you can’t do this” and I told him that I had already enlisted in the Air Force regular as I walked out the door. About six or seven months later, I got an envelope in the mail from the Marines. It was an honorable discharge.
I do not have an accurate memory of the thought processes that brought about the above scenario. It may have been that I felt that the Air Force would be a better choice for us to stay together and I knew that it was already in the works to go into the regular Marine Corps for missing reserve meetings. Frankly, I probably did not have a real firm grasp on the mechanics of the military. The way it played out worked for us, but it could have been much different.
Carolyn and I spent our last night together in a downtown Dallas hotel, paid for by the Air Force. We did not have a firm idea at the time as to just when we could see each other again. There were tears.
The next morning I went to the big armed forces induction center on Commerce Street with about a hundred other guys and we were tested, poked, questioned, measured, weighed and finally deemed fit to serve. We all raised our right hands and swore to uphold some stuff that I have forgotten, but what it meant was that you just did what was commanded without any question. Few, if any of us had a clue as to the implications and the ramifications of our actions on that day.
I was shuttled to the airport and told to get aboard a DC-3 for a short ride to Lackland AFB, Texas. Carolyn had gotten on a train for Kansas to be among her kin for the duration. You would have to ask her what she was feeling during that time. It was the third of October and we had been married the 18th August. Doing the math quickly, it does not add up to a lot of real time as newly weds.
Fast Forward. Another DC-3 ride and It’s November and I’m in a PATs (personnel awaiting training) barracks at Chanute AFB, Illinois. I think we were there for two or three weeks waiting for our slot to start school. There was not a lot to do but march to chow three times a day and maybe play some basket ball or just wait. My waiting was interrupted one afternoon when a runner came for me. I had a visitor at the Guesthouse.
Who had found me in this cold place, so far from Texas? Glorious reunion! Wonderful afternoon! Carolyn had come to stay with little money and a few things for housekeeping in her suitcase. She can tell her story about this time in “Snowstoryhere.” Suffice it to say that my belief in the protection of angels and the working of God’s Holy Spirit and the visitation of His hand on our lives, even upon our rather mundane and everyday lives and even when we are not acting as spiritual as we possibly could was strengthened in those days. This became especially true when the one I deeply loved was living in a world so close to my world in the little Illinois town of Rantoul and I was separated from her by a guard gate with military police. I had placed myself under the control of the government and could only move at their will.
However, I was eventually able to get what the government called separate rations and was allowed to rent a house and live off base. That sounds simple, but money was not in abundance on an airman’s salary in those days. Enter those angels again. I finished my electrical school, taught for awhile, was assigned to Shepard AFB, Texas for a time and then back to Chanute where I taught electronics until discharge. We survived it all, stayed married, had kids (with the deliveries paid for by the government) and on October 3rd, 1960, I was able to drive away from the guard gate at Chanute a civilian once again, having honorably served my country for four years. I was free, but now what?
I’m not sure that they were aware that we were coming that day, or any day for that matter. However, as I recall we were civil to each other and got through about two weeks of togetherness. Looking back on that incident now, I don’t remember trying to see Carolyn’s side of what probably was a very traumatic time for her. I guess I was either dense, ignorant, young and inexperienced at married life, or all of the above.
I don’t have the exact chronology down but it was soon, meaning no more than a day or so, that I was in an Air Force recruiter’s office in Waco signing documents that would change my life. One vivid memory from all that was the look on his face, and the words that came out of his mouth when I put the duffle bag (with all my Marine stuff) on the gunny’s desk at the Marine reserve center in Waco. He said “you can’t do this” and I told him that I had already enlisted in the Air Force regular as I walked out the door. About six or seven months later, I got an envelope in the mail from the Marines. It was an honorable discharge.
I do not have an accurate memory of the thought processes that brought about the above scenario. It may have been that I felt that the Air Force would be a better choice for us to stay together and I knew that it was already in the works to go into the regular Marine Corps for missing reserve meetings. Frankly, I probably did not have a real firm grasp on the mechanics of the military. The way it played out worked for us, but it could have been much different.
Carolyn and I spent our last night together in a downtown Dallas hotel, paid for by the Air Force. We did not have a firm idea at the time as to just when we could see each other again. There were tears.
The next morning I went to the big armed forces induction center on Commerce Street with about a hundred other guys and we were tested, poked, questioned, measured, weighed and finally deemed fit to serve. We all raised our right hands and swore to uphold some stuff that I have forgotten, but what it meant was that you just did what was commanded without any question. Few, if any of us had a clue as to the implications and the ramifications of our actions on that day.
I was shuttled to the airport and told to get aboard a DC-3 for a short ride to Lackland AFB, Texas. Carolyn had gotten on a train for Kansas to be among her kin for the duration. You would have to ask her what she was feeling during that time. It was the third of October and we had been married the 18th August. Doing the math quickly, it does not add up to a lot of real time as newly weds.
Fast Forward. Another DC-3 ride and It’s November and I’m in a PATs (personnel awaiting training) barracks at Chanute AFB, Illinois. I think we were there for two or three weeks waiting for our slot to start school. There was not a lot to do but march to chow three times a day and maybe play some basket ball or just wait. My waiting was interrupted one afternoon when a runner came for me. I had a visitor at the Guesthouse.
Who had found me in this cold place, so far from Texas? Glorious reunion! Wonderful afternoon! Carolyn had come to stay with little money and a few things for housekeeping in her suitcase. She can tell her story about this time in “Snowstoryhere.” Suffice it to say that my belief in the protection of angels and the working of God’s Holy Spirit and the visitation of His hand on our lives, even upon our rather mundane and everyday lives and even when we are not acting as spiritual as we possibly could was strengthened in those days. This became especially true when the one I deeply loved was living in a world so close to my world in the little Illinois town of Rantoul and I was separated from her by a guard gate with military police. I had placed myself under the control of the government and could only move at their will.
However, I was eventually able to get what the government called separate rations and was allowed to rent a house and live off base. That sounds simple, but money was not in abundance on an airman’s salary in those days. Enter those angels again. I finished my electrical school, taught for awhile, was assigned to Shepard AFB, Texas for a time and then back to Chanute where I taught electronics until discharge. We survived it all, stayed married, had kids (with the deliveries paid for by the government) and on October 3rd, 1960, I was able to drive away from the guard gate at Chanute a civilian once again, having honorably served my country for four years. I was free, but now what?
posted by David R. Snow at 7:46 AM
2 Comments:
Thank you for your service to our country.
10/28/11 just read your notes from top to bottom -very interesting - made me understand you a little better, for the better. none of our lives have been really wonderful but the past helps to mold our future.family, happiness and trust in God are whats important. I, too, have childhood misgivings but too late to dwell on that.
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