I Couldn't Wear The Uniform

Friday, May 19th, 1972. That was the date I graduated boot camp at the United States Naval Training Center, Orlando, Fla. One of the proudest days of my life. My family was on hand for graduation and I felt I could conquer the world. I had enlisted under a guaranteed "A" school. I was going to Great Lakes, Ill for Hospital Corps school after 2 weeks of leave. I had saved every dime since joining and planned on buying my first new car and driving to Great Lakes.

As soon as I got to my hometown of Augusta, Ga. I set out to cruise all the hot spots and visit all my friends, especially old girlfriends. I was looking good in my Navy dress whites, three little stripes on the left sleeve. I had been promoted to E-3 under the guarantee of going to Hospital Corps School since it was considered a critical rate due to the number of Corpsmen being killed in the line of duty while taking care of the sick and wounded in Vietnam. I walked proud wearing the uniform of the US Navy. I knew there was a very good chance I could end up going to Vietnam attached to the US Marines, but I really didn't let that bother me. You know at 18 years old you're invincible. It was also a family thing. My father had served in the US Army Air Corps and my two older brothers had both served in the Navy. I felt it was the right thing to do.

Like anyone else, I didn't have a death wish or want to make some fatalistic stand but I needed to do my part. I knew that there were those that didn't believe in the war and I felt that they were wrong to protest what was going on in a situation they didn't understand. I didn't really understand what was going on either, other than it was a war my country was involved in. I felt in my heart that if I was needed I would go and we should all do our part. I will always remember a high school classmate wearing a patch that read, "Better red than dead." I never could understand how someone could feel that way, knowing the freedom that we had. Hell, that freedom was why she could wear that patch. When I dropped out of high school to join the Navy, it was my choice. Maybe not a bright choice to drop out of school, but it was my decision. I wasn't forced to leave school and join the military, I went voluntarily. And yes, we did have a draft in those days, but they didn't come grab you out of school as they would have done in some countries. A lot of people stayed in school just to avoid the draft.

I got up that first Monday morning while on leave, put on my fresh dress whites after making sure they were immaculate and every crease was perfect, borrowed mom's car, picked up a buddy who had cut school that day to go with me and started looking around for my dream car. We had checked out several dealerships when we ended up at Harrison-Gulley Chevrolet on Walton Way near the Medical College of Georgia. We got out of the car and were met almost immediately by an older salesman. I'm truly sorry I don't remember his name because he was a true patriot at a time that I still did not know what that really meant. Before I left him I would understand. Almost as soon as we started looking around, a car passed by with several people, probably college students, and the one driving yelled out the window, "F*** you, baby killer." This stunned me and I just stood there staring and watching the car disappear. The salesman, seeing the effect this had on me, put his hand on my shoulder and told me "Don't worry about them son, they're probably spoiled rich kids going to school on mom and dad's money. They don't realize that if it wasn't for people like you taking up the fight, they wouldn't have the right to be where they are or the freedom to say what they said." He told me that he had fought in World War II and Korea and had retired from the US Army. We continued to talk as he showed me around the car lot looking for a "hot rod" that might interest me. He told me that there were more people who were proud of what we were doing than the small minority who protested the war. He explained though how that vocal minority had already caused the war to be have been taken over by politicians in Washington, who didn't have a clue, instead of leaving it to the Military who were on the ground and knew what was going on. He told me that if the politicians didn't get out of it we would lose our first war. He didn't know how just how true his prophecy would be. He had made me feel better knowing that the majority of people supported us.

There was a truck unloading a new shipment of cars and I spotted a light blue, Chevy Nova SS on the truck. I asked him about that car and he checked with the truck driver who stated that the car was in fact going to be delivered there. We decided to wait for it to be unloaded. I wanted to test drive it and find out the price. While we were waiting the salesman went back inside and we continued to just kill time and look around. As we were looking around near the front of the lot another car came by with two people in it. It stopped in the street only about 25 or 30 feet from where we were and the passenger hung his head out the window and called to me. When I looked up he said in a very calm, deliberate manner, "Hey asshole, I hope somebody kills you before you have the chance to kill an innocent person." That was it. Time for a good, old fashioned, redneck administered, ass whoopin'. As soon as I started toward the car the driver hit the gas and they sped off laughing. I told my buddy that was it, I had enough. I told the salesman that I would be back in a couple of hours, gave him my home phone number and left.

I went straight home and took the uniform off, still carefully hanging it up, and changed into my jeans. I told myself that I would never wear it off base again because no matter how proud I felt in it, I wasn't going to continuously be harassed.

We went back to the dealership after calling my dad who was a salesman at the Buick dealership in Augusta and I ended up buying the car after dad helped me get a good deal.

After spending my leave time at home I was taking my first real road trip. On the way to Great Lakes, I still didn't wear that uniform. I stopped at a gas station near Great Lakes and changed into my uniform just before checking in.

While I was at the school I made a lot of good friends and one was an old redneck boy like me named Charlie Rachels from Eureka, Mo. Charlie talked me into driving him to Eureka over the July 4th holiday because he was buying a car from his brother and wanted to drive it back to school. When I started packing he convinced me to bring a dress uniform saying where we were going I would need it. We got there on Friday night and I met his family. They were good, God fearing, small town people with old time values. We liked each other immediately.

On Saturday we went around and met with his friends and had a good time. Saturday evening we went back to his house and changed clothes putting on our uniforms. I told him I wasn't real comfortable wearing the uniform in public and he told me not to worry about it, these were good people. We went to a bar way back in the hills and I'm talking about the kind of place I had only seen on tv or in the movies, a real redneck looking place with sawdust floors and a live country band. The place was packed and I began thinking about the trouble I would get into the first time someone smarted off at one of us about being a "Baby killer." Within a few seconds of going through that door with those uniforms on we were celebrities. We didn't buy a drink all night and danced with every girl, woman, wife, girlfriend in the place. There were people of all ages in there and I had the time of my life. Everyone wanted to talk to us and thank us for standing up for our country. After dancing until I thought I'd drop I went to find a place to sit and a couple of older guys invited me to join them. As I sat we started talking and eventually it got around to what had happened at home about the uniform. Those men told stories of Korea and WWII and the pride they have in our country, their service, their uniforms and in our servicemen and women. They also convinced me that the only time I would be confronted by those "idiots," was when they were in a moving vehicle or a situation that I couldn't get to them or they had me outnumbered because they were too scared to take a stand.

I was 18 when I went to Eureka that weekend and I met people who were from my age to people who were in their 60's and 70's and not a one, young or old, said anything negative about the military, or this country we live in. The veterans I had met since getting out of boot camp showed me the true meaning of love of country and that it's okay to stand up for what you believe in no matter which side of the fence you were standing on. Like me they didn't care for the picketing or slandering but they would still get up and fight you if you tried to take away the freedom to do those things.

All I can really say is that I ended up having one of the best times of my life that weekend. I also regained my pride in wearing that uniform, no matter when or where. The more I wore it, the more I realized what that salesman in Augusta had told me, "There are a lot more people who support you than those who don't. The others are just more vocal."

Can you imagine what it would be like if the quiet majority would get loud about supporting our troups and our country. It has gotten a lot better in recent years buy we still have a long way to go.

I was never sent to Vietnam, although I did most of my 8 years in the Navy attached to the Marines in one capacity or another and was proud to serve with them.

I want to end this tonight by telling those who tried to rob me and other veterans of our dignity that it didn't work and we have stood the test of time. Oh yeah, and thank you for allowing me to stand watch over this country protecting your way of life and the freedoms you enjoy.

To those Navy Personnel I served with I say, "Fair Winds and Following Seas"
And to my Marine Brothers, "Semper Fi"