Yesterday was August the ninth. No news there except it stuck with me all day that on that very day forty three years ago I left home for Navy basic training. Forty three years ! And the memory of that time is just as fresh and vibrant as the day it all happened. It is possible that much time had passed ? Yup.
The world was a different place in 1971. The Vietnam war was still being contested and was quite an unpopular topic. Veterans, and service men in general, where not held in high regard in some quarters. Referred to as baby killers and ridiculed. Being in the service wasn't "cool " man. The cost of a gallon of gasoline was thirty six cents. Stamps for mailing letters home cost six cents each. Yes, we were writing actual letters home using paper and pen. Air mail stamps cost more though. Eleven cents ! Phones had to be dialed.
I recall standing on the platform with Mom and Dad. Dad just standing there stoic as always. Just talking matter of fact. And Mom trying not to show her emotions. The train arrived and Mom hugs me. Not too much though, I'm no baby. And Dad sticking his hand out for a good firm handshake. That was how it was done back in the day. Men didn't hug or embrace ! Show affection or the worst of all, shed a tear in a public setting ! Not hardly.
It was on that day I took my first plane ride. It was also the first time I was alone. Completely alone. Well that's not exactly true. My best friend had joined with me and we traveled together. We got to spend some time together before being assigned to a company. He to the band and I to a rifle company. Following that we rarely saw each other and never got the chance to speak.
There are days that change history. August the ninth 1971 was one of those days in my life. How much would have been different had I not made that choice ? Had I chosen to go with the hippie movement and followed that route. In retrospect I would not change that decision. There are things I would do differently but the decision stands. It was a good choice.
The world was a different place in 1971. The Vietnam war was still being contested and was quite an unpopular topic. Veterans, and service men in general, where not held in high regard in some quarters. Referred to as baby killers and ridiculed. Being in the service wasn't "cool " man. The cost of a gallon of gasoline was thirty six cents. Stamps for mailing letters home cost six cents each. Yes, we were writing actual letters home using paper and pen. Air mail stamps cost more though. Eleven cents ! Phones had to be dialed.
I recall standing on the platform with Mom and Dad. Dad just standing there stoic as always. Just talking matter of fact. And Mom trying not to show her emotions. The train arrived and Mom hugs me. Not too much though, I'm no baby. And Dad sticking his hand out for a good firm handshake. That was how it was done back in the day. Men didn't hug or embrace ! Show affection or the worst of all, shed a tear in a public setting ! Not hardly.
It was on that day I took my first plane ride. It was also the first time I was alone. Completely alone. Well that's not exactly true. My best friend had joined with me and we traveled together. We got to spend some time together before being assigned to a company. He to the band and I to a rifle company. Following that we rarely saw each other and never got the chance to speak.
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