I was 18 years old in 1948, had graduated high school and could expect to be drafted for 2 years in the near future. Back then 18 and 19 year olds had an option other than waiting to be drafted. They could enlist in the army for one year, not two, and upon discharge from active duty spend six years in the active reserve. I exercised this option and became, as we were called then, a one year draft dodger. As a result I received a message which can best be explained by briefly recounting my seven year experience.

My one year of active duty was pleasant enough. Reported to the army at their Whitehall Street enlistment center downtown New York City on August 13, 1948 and was bussed to Fort Dix, NJ. I was processed and also took the Army General Classification Tests, AGCT, receiving a very respectable score the underpinning for a little less than boring 12 months of active duty. Because of the score I was able to request various schools and receive approval.

I was moved to Fort Lewis, WA for basic training and my home for the enlistment with an 8 week exception. After basic I had 4 weeks of combat engineer schooling and then I requested truck driving school. After 2 weeks I was set to drive a truck when I noticed a posting that the Colonel needed a Jeep driver. Sounded like my kind of work and I was accepted. But it turned out to be boring, just too many cigarettes hanging around waiting to drive the Colonel here and there. I then requested truck mechanic school, Fort Ord, CA, my home away from home for 8 weeks.

Returning to Fort Lewis I entered the barracks mid-day, Tuesday I recall, and found a soldier sitting on the floor reading a comic book. Aware that you were not allowed in the barracks during the day I expressed my curiosity. The explanation; he played baseball Monday, Wednesday, Friday and made formation on Saturday. He was off Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday. Guess who played first base from the end of May when I returned to Fort Lewis until I was discharged on August 12, 1949. So much for the one year active duty.

I was transferred to the active reserve for the next six years. I lived in Rockaway Beach, NY and I was assigned to Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn. When I reported to Fort Hamilton I explained that I lived in Rockaway and Fort Tilden in Rockaway was just minutes from my home. Could I be transferred there which would save a lot of driving time. Within a week I was assigned to an anti-aircraft battery at Tilden. I would be trained as a lineman stringing communication wire. I could hardly wait.

It was one night a week and every August our company was sent to Camp Wellfleet on Cape Cod, MA. for two weeks of training. Camp Wellfleet was on the beach, very fitting for Rockaway Beach guys. Today I do not see the camp on the Massachusetts map but I do see Wellfleet as a town. For the two weeks we played soldier during the day. In the evenings we were either at The Mill Hill in Hyannis Port or at the Golden Dragon in Provincetown, or P-Town as it is called, at the northern end of the Cape. The only serious event during our two week training stints for the six years was the hurricane in August, 1954. No one was injured but all the cars were parked on the beach and were damaged by wind driven sand. Not severely except for the two end cars where their exposed sides were actually sand blasted down to the bare metal.

All during this time the Korean War came and went from 1950 through 1953. Our company was never called back to active duty as many active reserve outfits were. During the ensuing years I met quite a few guys, one year draft dodgers as well, who were called back and spent active duty time either in Germany or on the Korean front. One was a future brother-in-law who was recalled and spent time in Germany.

The telling point came when in 1956 after being discharged from the active reserve the previous year I was in New York city walking along 42nd Street. I came face to face with a familiar face, Freddie S, with whom I had gone through basic training. After basic we were assigned to different companies and I would only see him from time to time at the PX. We had no contact after being discharged from active duty but instantly we recognized each other.

Upon discharge from active duty he was assigned to Fort Hamilton as I had been. Living in Brooklyn it was logical that he would spend his six years of active army reserve at this fort. His outfit was activated during the Korean War and they were sent to Korean. He had been wounded and fortunately not seriously. He mentioned several people who had been either killed or wounded in action and I recalled two of them. We parted ways and I went about my business. But before I could get in my car and return home I needed a cup of coffee and a few cigarettes.

Reminiscing, the one year on active duty was a piece of cake. As the army expression went, "could do it standing on my hands." The same could be said about the six years serving in the active reserve. I thought about it as two weeks training at a beach resort without maid service. What was stark in my mind, that while in the reserves during the Korean War I did not get called back to active duty. I did not suffer the irreversible consequences of going to war.

There definitely was a message from upstairs. Don't even think about camping out and definitely - no buffet lines. Not camping out was never a problem. But buffet lines was a different story. Over the past 50 years when buffet lines were in order I have not always been with family or friends who could have helped. On a rare occasion, if I was hungry and wanted to eat, I had to bite my lip and jump on the buffet line.

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