By Jim McAllister

Once upon a time in this country there was something called the military draft. It existed until the end of the war in Viet Nam (1973) and then was disbanded in favor of an all volunteer military. The draft applied to males eighteen years old and older. When you turned eighteen, you had to go to a draft board to register and eventually you would be called to serve in the military. There were certain exceptions to the rule like disabilities and college deferments, but the majority of young men had to face the system. A college deferment didn't exempt you from service, it just delayed the inevitable until one got out of school. When drafted, you were required to serve two years in the Army. As an alternative, a guy could enlist in one of the other branches of the military like the Air Force, Marines, or Navy. If you enlisted, however, the required time to serve was usually three to four years instead of two.

Now that you have a thumbnail sketch of what life was like for someone eighteen years old before that magic year of 1973, I will tell you that I was in that group. It was an odd feeling in those days as I was like millions of other kids my age living at home with my own room, eating mom's cooking, having mom wash my clothes, having a few beers at night and getting up late the next day. Maybe I would make a pretense of work to try and justify my lifestyle but in reality I had it good. I had some decent wheels, a steady girl, and good friends. However, as much as I tried to slow down the clock, it just kept on ticking and one day I woke up thinking the unthinkable: I have this draft card in my wallet and they are starting to draft guys my age (19). I don't want to go into the Army, that's for sure, how about joining the Air Force. For the sake of brevity, I will say that the historic day happened on September 12, 1961. That was the day I bid everyone good-bye and caught the plane for San Antonio, Texas and basic training with the United States Air Force.

I traveled to Texas with a group from my hometown of Cincinnati and we had a pretty good time. I was thinking about how nice the Air Force is, I'm really going to like this. My brother had served in the AF at Lowry in Denver, so I was pumped. When we arrived in San Antonio we were met by some guys who were going to escort us to Lackland Training Center for basic training. After meeting these gentlemen, I didn't think there was a clock on this earth that could measure the small amount of time it took for me to go from happiness to thinking, "What in the world have I gotten myself into this time!" They yelled at us for the entire rainy bus ride into Lackland (Did I mention this was during Hurricane Carla? It was!) and when we reached Lackland we were sent into a large building where more guys started yelling at us. They had my compatriots and me convinced that we were the biggest losers on God's green earth and they were probably correct at that moment.

Thus began basic training for me and a lot of guys from all over the United States just like me. We were a bunch of soft kids who were sadly lacking in the ways of the world. We were just a bunch of stupid "rainbows" as the military recruits were called. It all seemed pretty horrible those first few days but then we were issued our uniforms, learned to march and take orders, and we became a unit. We learned the importance of respecting your fellow troops and the officers and enlisted men that outranked us, in other words, everybody! No more going to bed late and sleeping late and worst of all, no nightly brewskis. One thing for sure, basic training did get everyone into good physical shape. The fat guys slimmed down and the thin guys bulked up. I was a picky eater before the military; that ended the first time the guy on the serving line dropped a piece of cake in the middle of my mashed potatoes and gravy. After the ritual they put you through, you were hungry enough to eat anything.

Sure, basic was tough but you got through it and were a better person for it. Once you arrived at your permanent base, it was a pretty good life. In my case, I was stationed in Missouri with some duty also in Germany. I met a lot of nice people, worked hard in my career field (Supply) and made good rank during my four years.

Before I enlisted, I wasn't the least bit interested in the military. By the time I got out, I thought it was the smartest thing I had ever done. I did a lot of growing up and was ready to go to college. After high school I was much too immature to attempt that, I would have flunked out immediately. When I got my degree in 1969, I had a 3.1 grade point average which surprised even me and the Air Force helped pay for it through the G.I. Bill.

When I remember those early, rainy, days of basic training in the Texas mud, it doesn't seem like I was too smart to be there but when I think of the contributions of the American military to the great country we have with our freedoms and lifestyle, my four years of active duty was a bargain price to pay.