When I got to the induction center there were hundreds of other men there. We were ordered to strip. Usually men are not too bothered by this when they are among other men getting a physical or so on, but this was different. It was different because we had to stand in the hallway and women kept passing us by and laughing. To make matters even worse there were big windows in the rooms we were reporting to and people in the street were looking up and also laughing at us. I remember when they took a pint of blood from us and then handed it to us and told us to wait on a line where the blood would be collected. A rather muscular guy in front of me was handed his blood and fainted.

Eventually we made it to what is known as a reception center at where we were to remain for three days. This gave the army time to give us our uniforms and equipment. I shoved my stuff into a duffle bag and we waited to be moved to basic training. On the third day we were told to grab our s**t and get on buses which were waiting for us. One guy somehow had gotten his uniforms to a tailor and back and they were all on hangers and he had his hands full. He asked me to help him carry some so I said okay. When we got to Fort Dix, we were met by screaming sergeants with clubs who beat the bus and screamed at us to get off. It was raining and the ground was muddy and we were lined up. I noticed one sergeant looking at me. He came over, put his face up to mine and with a grin said drop those uniforms I was holding, so I did. The owner was standing next to me and was getting very upset, then the sergeant said now step on them. He really thought he was hurting me. I began to wipe my feet on the uniforms. Don’t get me wrong I normally wouldn’t have done this, but I had no choice. Later I gave the muddy uniforms back to their owner.

If was cold at Fort Dix, very cold. We had the worst, meanest captain at the entire base. He would not let any of us in his company go to the PX or commissary on off hours, we were the only company who couldn’t. This was important to us because we were always hungry. They fed us, but we were doing so many strenuous things it kept our bellies empty. One night in the middle of a very cold winter I was in my bed and heard an ice cream truck ringing his bell. I jumped up, grabbed some money and ran in my underwear to the truck and bought ice cream and didn’t care it was against the captain’s rules or even if I got caught. We were not allowed to walk, we had to run everywhere and when we passed the captain’s office there was a large tree there we had to salute and say, good day tree.

We had to go to various classes and ranges. I had gone to the rifle range and we were using M14 rifles and while I was firing on the range I felt a wind blow past my face. It turned out the soldier next to me had the firing pin explode out of his rifle and it just missed my face. That was not the only rifle problem I had. A new rifle had come out at the time, it was the M16. I was glad to see the M14 go, because it was heavy and was often used to punish us if we did something wrong when doing rifle practice. The drill sergeant would make us hold the rifle out in front of us with both hands and stay that way until he released us. You have no idea how painful this gets unless you have done it. Instead of wood stocks the M14 had fiberglass stocks and was lighter. We were lectured on its use and the captain told us when we were doing what was known as shoulder arms, we were to slap the stock as hard as we could. The idea was to all make the sound at the same time. I remember him saying don’t worry there is no way you can break the stock.

The next day we were all doing drills with our M16 rifles. It was an extremely cold day and the captain had ordered us to strip to the waste. I did a shoulder arms and the stock cracked and became very loose. I saw the captain and during rest I went up to him and told him the stock cracked. He was having none of this and completely ignored me and walked away. Being new in the army I wondered what to do so I went to the supply sergeant and asked for a new rifle. He thought I was crazy until I showed him what happened. He issued me a new rifle and took mine back. The next day I landed up in the hospital with pneumonia, but since it was an army hospital I was out in a few days.

One day we were told we were going for a walk and to take a full pack and our rifles. The walk turned out to be a 20-mile hike, not any 20-mile hike, but one through sand at the beach. I can tell you this, a lot of the other soldiers started falling to the ground after about several miles. I had made my mind up I was not going to give up and I made the entire hike along with about 25% of my company.  There was one guy in our company who was always getting into trouble, but it was for small things and the punishment usually was pushups. Every time I turned around this guy was on the ground doing pushups. He never let it bother him and always smiled. I think this aggravated the drill sergeants and that was one of the reasons they kept picking on him.

The mess hall was a huge place capable of feeding hundreds of people at a time. The pots were so large each pot was about six feet tall and had its own burner on the floor and the food in the pot was stirred with what looked like a canoe paddle by a cook standing on a ladder. The food wasn’t bad, contrary to common belief, but the way it was served left a lot to be desired. Let me give you an example of what I am talking about. I was on line with my food tray which was divided up in three or four compartments and as I walked down the food line, food would be slapped into the compartments. This would usually fill up the tray before you got all the food and the dessert thrown on top of this mess. One day a cook threw a whipped cream cake on top of franks and beans. I said to him what are you doing and he replied, it all goes to the same place.

One night after a rigorous day we were told we had to go to the obstacle course, so I got myself ready, but just when everyone was told to fall out for the course I was told to stay and clean the barracks floor. I was disappointed but made the place look great. You could almost see your face in the floor. We used to use buffers on the floor. Then it happened, the men came back and I realized how lucky I had been. They were covered from head to toe in mud, because it had been raining and they had to crawl under barbed wire while machine guns were firing over their heads and jump into muddy pits and throw grenades and such. The last thing I remember about basic training was going to classes where instructors told us how to torture prisoners using electrical devices to get information out of them. I bet this doesn’t happen today.