Yes, I swore my oath on this very day, sixty-four years ago in the Federal Building in Dallas Texas. I remember it like it was yesterday. A Leap Year, it was.
I was both proud and honored to commit myself to the good of my Country. And I would honor that commitment until I died, whether it be on a battlefield in some God-forsaken place where my blood would make little difference in the world of politics, with all its ugly faces, ill-purposed goals, grandiose dreams, and ego-satisfying bluster, none of which I could understand, much less care about.
By morning, I was awakened on a Greyhound Bus and told to "GET OUT" It was dark, cold, and snowing at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.
From that moment on I followed the advice of a friend who had been in the Army. I did nothing except when told to do something. I did not talk unless I was told to talk. I did not move unless I was told to move. And I was not to volunteer for anything, no matter how good it sounded. I felt good having that advice.
I was standing in the snow, wearing thin dress shoes, dress slacks, and a thin cotton dress shirt. I put my hands in my pockets to warm them up. I should not have done that.
A gruff voice with stripes was suddenly blasting words in my face from three inches away. He was saying something about my hands in my pockets and did he tell me to put them in my pockets.
Before I could open my mouth to say something, he was yelling at me to drop to the snow and do some impossible number of pushups, apparently because I did something to anger him.
I dropped to the snow but tried not to go all the way down into the nasty stuff. His boot pressing down on my back clearly indicated that he did not care for my thoughts at the time. I did something over ten (could have been thirty) push ups, and he removed his boot and screamed at me to stand up.
Apparently, I missed the part about me 'snapping' to the standing position without brushing off the snow and black coal soot and something that made it stink.
Then he yelled at me to pick up two baseball-size stones and hold them. They were as cold as the snow, but I instinctively knew NOT to ask the obvious - How Long? He answered it for me.
He ordered me to stand at attention and say, "I WILL NEVER PUT MY HANDS IN MY POCKETS UNTIL TOLD TO DO SO!" 100 times.
That was when I learned to say, "SIR..YES SIR! THANK YOU SIR"
Then I started saying "I will never p....." "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!"
I started again, " I will never put my....." I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!!!"
It was at that moment I grasped the gravity of the situation - He wanted me to hate him so much that given the chance I would not hesitate to kill him and any other SOB that got in my way.
"I WILL NEVER PUT MY HANDS IN MY POCKETS UNTIL TOLD TO DO SO...!"
"I WILL NEVER PUT MY HANDS IN MY POCKETS UNTIL TOLD TO DO SO...!"
"I WILL NEVER PUT MY HANDS IN MY POCKETS UNTIL TOLD TO DO SO...!"
And so on until another gruff voice stopped me. Apparently, I had learned something about the Army.
A few days later my fellow soldiers were on a parade field in uniform, lined up on snow, with M-1 rifles with bayonets afixed going through the motions of thrusting at the invisible enemy, while yelling KILL KILL KILL at the top of our lungs. I could not help but smile.
Now I was not only living up to my oath, but wearing the uniform and being trained to kill the enemy. And I was getting to be pretty damn good at being a Soldier.
I smiled because I was now a real soldier.
64 years ago, and I still think of those rocks every time I put my hands in my pockets, for any reason.
I also think of my oath a lot lately. And I smile. It still works for me.
