A series of strange events Part 1

As my senior year of college began to come to its close and we could finally see what was outside in the world for us, those of us enrolled in Army ROTC were faced with the choice of what branch or specialty we wished to serve in, and where we might want to do that. Being somewhat naïve, we did not see the absurdity of asking for a place of duty assignment at a time when most were going pretty much directly to Vietnam. But I was told that, as one majoring in German, who had just returned from a year at a German university, if I were to request a commission in the Regular Army (RA) I would be guaranteed my choice of first duty assignment, and branch. It was recommended to me that I try for the military intelligence.
That all seemed exciting. I could see myself flying down the Autobahn in a new Porsche and being assigned secret duties, most of which, I was sure, would involve beautiful foreign women. After all, I had seen the James Bond movies. So, I did what they suggested, and what to my surprise, it was all granted, a military intelligence assignment in Germany. My friends were amazed and jealous. Most of them were going to places like Fort Lost in the Woods and Fort Puke as signal people or engineers. But I…..
Then the shoe dropped: all RA officers who were not in a combat arms, would be detailed to one of the three branches, and mine would be the infantry. Ah, but not to worry, I was still guaranteed my first duty assignment, and upon graduation was given vague orders to USAREUR.
But first I would have to travel to the Infantry School at Ft. Benning, aka the Benning School for Boys or the Trade School on the Chattahoochie, assigned to a company of 200 RA infantry types, half of whom were straight from airborne school, or obnoxious, gung-ho graduates of Texas A&M, or both. The West Pointers, I’m happy to say, were pretty low key about the whole thing.
So, whenever an instructor started his pitch with, “Gentlemen, if you don’t learn what I’m going to teach you today, you will die in Vietnam,” I knew that was my cue to drift off to someplace else, almost anyplace else.
To make a long story short, Germany did not happen, and I ended up as one of two German speaking lieutenants in an infantry battalion in Vietnam, while those of my class who went to Germany, could not utter a sentence in German if the entire group were put together to do it.
Finally after surviving a year in Vietnam, and deciding I really didn’t care for the Army all that much, I was sent to the Military Intelligence School at Fort Holabird, an enclosed are of Baltimore, near or in Dundalk, that consisted of boring, windowless buildings in an area the size of several blocks, close enough to a brewery, and there I embarked upon my training to learn all kinds of “special” things that I can’t talk about, and really don’t have any desire to do so. I had always wondered what “Top Secret” material consisted of, and found to my surprise, most of it was boring. One of the most exciting classes we attended was on the capabilities of the Soviet Navy. So secret was this lecture, that we were frisked for pencils and pens prior to entering the lecture hall. When the instructor mounted the podium to begin his talk, he informed us, in a most embarrassed voice, that the source of most of what he was going to say, came from a recent issue of Time magazine.
And so, because I have been told people who read blogs have short attention spans, I am going to end here and put the rest in a second part. You probably feel like the person who has been put in a round room and has been told to pee in the corner. My conscience is clear…. Until next time!