BOOT CAMP

Moving into the military world was a very different experience.

I am not sure how the description "boot" came into being. Maybe it was the implied threats by the drilling instructors that we would be booted (kicked) out of the sack, booted for messing up the cadence while marching, booted to assignments for disciplinary reasons (mess duty).

I can recall that at our first "fall-in," the instructor asked if there were any engineers in the squad. Those who raised their hands were assigned to duty in the mess hall, engineering (preparing) the food. That warned the rest of us to be aware of what we answered.

I enjoyed marching, even if it was at 5 a.m., in the darkness and under the stars. Most of the squad was able to march in cadence, but invariably, there would be one or two poor souls who couldn't do it, and they would drive the instructors crazy!

In December, Ruth and her sister came from Philadelphia by train for her one and only visit. When Ruth saw my shaved head all she could do was cry!

The six-week boot camp went quickly. From there I was shipped to Hatteras Island, North Carolina, in a holding pattern until February. While there, we were assigned lookout duty at the top of the Hatteras Lighthouse, to watch for ship explosions at sea (German submarine action) and reporting same to headquarters.

More, later.