I was a high school senior when I volunteered for the U. S. Army Air Corps. I was made a pre-aviation cadet. I dreamed of sitting behind a powerful engine and flying into the wild blue yonder. On October 12, 1943, twenty-five days after I turned eighteen, raring to go, I was inducted. Right off the bat, my dream of flying was shattered. I was told no more air cadets were needed. Why was I inducted? Don’t ask. You are never told. I was to be an aircraft mechanic. No more aircraft mechanics were needed. I was shipped to England and made a teletype operator, only no teletype operators were needed. I did nothing for a year in England.
Then I was made a combat rifleman and handed an M1 rifle and pair of British hobnail boots. The U. S. Army didn’t have any American combat boots with Neoprene soles. I was shipped to the front, which was then at the Rhine River in Germany, and attached to the 97th Division. On my first night at the front, I was assigned to outpost duty patrolling the streets around my outfit’s place for the night, a school building. Wouldn’t you know that when I was clopping down a cobblestone street my own troops would fire on me. The Germans wore hobnail boots. Wouldn’t you think the U. S. Army would have known this? Don’t ask. You will not be told. I was issued a pair of used American combat boots, a size too big but better than be shot dead. Well, in spite of it all, we won the war, but that’s the last war we’ve won. It just keeps getting worse and worse.
We threaten the people who supply us with intelligence, read Miranda rights to enemy combatants, court marshal the troops when they should be given medals, and schedule the date when the fighting ends and we come home. Instead of wars, it’s merely events held for political posturing. But don’t ask. You will not be told. Who is this Commander in Chief? We don’t know. He’s hiding his identity. Don’t ask. You will not be told. I can’t believe this. We’re small children to do what we’re told. What is wrong with us?
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