My time in the Marines marked the end of my time under the bootheel of Missouri. Serving with the reserve unit in Memphis was the last time I would live at home. I will use this chapter to quickly summarize what happened after that.
I enjoyed my active duty training time in the Navy so much, I thought I wanted to stay in, but maybe as an officer (a downgrade in status for an upgrade in pay?). Reenlisting in the Air Force to become a navigator, I was able to get out of my navy enlistment commitment in exchange for a six-year Air Force commitment. I was considering becoming a pilot, but all the pilot billets were filled. The recruiter got me to sign up by convincing me that the navigator was basically a pilot who sat in the backseat.
I graduated OTS (Officer Training School) in San Antonio Texas where I made a popular impression by incorporating centerfolds from playboy magazines into my briefing charts. My key points were hidden along with the centerfold's key features beneath flaps on my charts that I would remove as my briefing unfolded. It was basically a strip tease. "What better way to keep everyone's attention," I explained to my squadron commander. He couldn't disagree. He knew I was right. He did inform me that my attitude really wasn't career military material. I couldn't disagree. I knew he was right. He did explain that despite my lack of suitability for military life, he would let me graduate anyway since I did so well on all my academic and physical requirements, but he again assured me the military was not where I belonged. I really respected his frankness.
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Stories From Under A Bootheel (Rants, Laughs, and Tears)
HumorStories from another time and place to make you think, laugh, and possibly shed a tear. I know I did, but for me the stories are personal. This is for those who can appreciate the insanity of the world I was raised in. One should never judge the...