It was 54 years ago, tomorrow, on January 18th that I received my DD 214 (Separation Papers) from the U.S. Navy. It was 10 days earlier than my 4 years enlistment was to expire. My final discharge wouldn't be until 2 years later. I had passed my 2nd class Petty Officer's test but if I wanted that rate I would have to extend my service a year and go to Vietnam. And further they offered another deal and that was that I'd get double tax free pay but only if I shipped over for four more years instead of just the year's extension.
What were they nuts? Did they really think that I wanted to do four more years of this nonsense? Did they really think I wanted to go into a war zone. I saw first hand the Dominican crisis which was a disaster. Anyway I didn't. I was 22 years old, fit and robust except for a nasty cough that I had developed early mornings upon waking due to smoking 2 sometimes 3 packs of camels a day. Cigs were going for .90 cents a carton in those days on board the ship. We could buy as many cartons as we wanted underway. And I had bought plenty. I hoisted my heavy sea bag, it was bitter out and windy, the sun had just risen and I coughed my head off as I walked down the quay to the bus stop almost a half mile away. The bus took me to Norfolk where I was to get my mustering out physical.
During my physical they told me that I had a heart murmur and they weren't going to discharge me. What? I know I had a heart murmur when I enlisted. Nobody said anything then. I can go in but I can't get out? I had to see three Navy doctors and sign about a hundred waivers that if I died they weren't responsible. Anything, I said, I'd even pay you. When I left Norfolk finally I and a couple others going to NY got a ride with a sailor from my ship who had been a coxswain but had gotten a general discharge for what was termed psychotic behavior. He was no more psychotic than any of us. Just that he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Threatening your Chief Petty Officer over and over was a no no. Eventually you're going get thrown out.
A couple of weeks after I got home and was looking for a job, a Navy Ensign and a 1st class Machinist Mate showed up at my parents house telling me I have to report to the local station for Reserve service. I shooed them away explaining that I had no interest in the fucking Navy anymore. And I never went. A few months later it was late Spring. I had become anti-war conscious and was impolite to put it nicely to my government and to anyone in the military. I wanted to go on anti-war marches and that year I eventually did.
But before all that I got a letter from the Department of the Navy that read in the event of a national crisis I was to report to LST something or other at Little Creek, VA. I freaked out because all I saw was "national crisis" and "Report to." I had no self control in those days. I called the reserve station screeching into the phone and the sailor on the other end also freaked out. An officer came on the line and he asked me very politely to read him the letter word for word. When I did, I finally understood what it meant-- "In the event of." I'm surprised he didn't call me an idiot and he just said "meetings are weekly and weekends are for service." And I said no thanks and I hung up. Oh for God's sake I was only 22. . .