J. D. Pendry

I was going to write something different this evening, instead I will share this from my archives. I wish all of you and your families a joyous and blessed Thanksgiving day. - JD

On Thanksgiving Day 1971, I was a 19-year-old Private in basic combat training at Fort Ord, California. My military career did not have a grand beginning. For that matter it never had a grand middle or end either, but that’s a story for another day.

In September of that year, just before my 19th birthday, I stepped down from a Greyhound bus onto Fort Ord’s sand and ice plant. It wasn’t the type of greeting that folklore and movies primed me to expect. A Corporal wearing heavily starched cotton fatigues, spit shined boots and a glossy black helmet with large white Corporal stripes painted on the front greeted the few of us arriving from San Francisco Airport. He wasn’t loud and ornery as we expected, but he did walk so fast that most of my small group had to jog to keep up. His first stop with us was an Army Mess Hall where we ate our first Army meal of warm soup and cold sandwiches. A week later, all hell broke loose for us when the cattle car we were crammed into stopped in front of our basic training company.

Contributed by J D on November 26, 2008 at 09:39 PM in J D Pendry | Permalink

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