Chapter 47: You’re In The Army Now!

“You’re in the Army now,
You’re not behind the plow,
You’ll never get rich,
A diggin’ a ditch,
You’re in the Army now!”

We packed everything imaginable in the van Saturday after getting back to the frat, leaving only some clothing in some bags we could carry into the motels with us. I figured to take three days driving, which would put us near Sill Tuesday afternoon. The plan was to take 90 and 71 to Columbus the first day, then 70 to St. Louis, and finish in Lawton the third day. If we could push further each day than planned, it would make our last day the easiest. This was long before anybody invented the cell phone, so we were stopping every couple of hours for pit stops and meals and map breaks. Marilyn can barely figure out how to hold a map upright, but even she couldn’t lose me following the panel van! I didn’t report for school until the following Monday, but I wanted to look around ahead of time.

We made it to Columbus in about twelve hours, at which point we were both exhausted. If I wanted to be a truck driver, I would have gone to truck driving school! We crapped out in a Best Western and slept the night away. The next morning, we got an early start and made it to Springfield, several hours past St. Louis. We were still tired, but it felt like we were getting ahead of the curve. Tuesday, we made it to Lawton just after lunch.

Fort Sill is one of the old time Army bases dating back to the days when Oklahoma was the frontier, and the Army was fighting the Indians. Now it’s a sprawling and flat place owned by the artillery. It’s big, wide, flat, and open, the perfect place to shoot things that go a long way and go boom when they get there, even though the Wichita Mountains are visible from everywhere on the post. Lawton is a cow town if there ever was one. It’s flat and dusty and the wind blew constantly. Dust was everywhere, including on us when we got out of the car and truck. It was already blistering hot in the early afternoon. We were in the parking lot of a Best Western that we had reservations for the next week at.

Marilyn looked around and said, “And you think Utica’s a hick town!”

I looked around and shrugged. “Honey, they don’t put the motels in the residential neighborhoods, do they?”

“Do they have one here?”

“I’m sure they do. It’s probably very nice,” I said, putting a hopeful spin on things. Looking around I had to wonder. I was expecting a tumbleweed to blow by any second, followed by a cattle drive.

“Have fun! I think I’m going to stay in New York!” she replied.

I wrapped her in my arms and laughed. “I’m only here for six months. After that, I go somewhere else, a regular duty station. Probably a nice, dry lab building in Aberdeen, Maryland. It’s very nice there. You’ll see.” I was shading the truth slightly. If I were to stay in the Army, in Artillery, eventually I’d be spending time here as an officer. Pretty much every artillery officer does, sooner or later. Who knew, maybe it was really nice, once I got to know the place. It had to be better than Utica!

We checked in and cleaned up. For the first time since we had left New York, we had enough energy to fool around in the shower together. Afterwards we dried off and dressed and went out for lunch. The restaurant in the Best Western featured - guess what? - steaks. I wasn’t surprised.

We spent the rest of the day at the motel, resting up and goofing off. Over the next few days, we drove around and saw what there was to see of Lawton, which looked bigger than Utica. I think if the Army decided to shoot cannons someplace else, the place would dry up and blow away quickly. Still, there were some nice areas, and some decent restaurants and schools and such. It was better than it had been back when the Indians were protesting the presence of the white man by using bows and arrows, of that I was sure. We found a storage locker place and unloaded everything I wouldn’t be taking into the BOQ with me, and then sorted out what I would keep available. After that we dumped the panel van back on the rental company. Otherwise, we just took a vacation for a few days and played hide the salami in our room. I needed to store up some memories, because it was going to be a few months before I saw Marilyn again.

Monday morning, I had to go and rejoin the Army. I wasn’t entirely sure of the procedure but based on my (limited) experience with the system, there was going to be an awful lot of hurry-up-and-wait. Report in time was 0900, so at 0800 I kissed Marilyn goodbye and headed over to the base. She would hang out around the swimming pool until I came back. Once I got the schedule straightened out, we would get her to the nearest airport, probably on Tuesday, and fly her back to Albany.

At the gate I was sent to the Staff and Facilities Battalion, where I was sent on to the Artillery School. I would go through check in there. It felt strange to just drive onto a base like this. By the time Parker joined the service, after 9-11, everything was tighter than a gnat’s ass. Nobody could get on any base anywhere without an elaborate pass and check in procedure. A lot of bases they even inspected under your car and made you open the trunk up. I parked in a fair-sized parking lot and made my way inside, where I found I was just one of many freshly minted butterbars looking for their new home. But I also saw something else, my old buddy Harlan Buckminster! I had no idea he was going Artillery like me! Time for a little fun!

I slipped around the room and came up behind him while he was talking to another second john standing in front of him. The other fellow noticed me, and his eyes flicked in my direction, but I held an index finger to my lips. Smiling, I muttered quietly, “Christ, what the hell is this man’s army coming to when they let the coloreds become officers?”

Only a few people heard me, and there was some instant consternation. Of course, Harlan heard me as clear as a bell, and he whipped around to face me. I just stood there grinning at him. He broke out into a grin of his own and replied, “Hell, I never knew you crackers had figured out how to stand shit six feet tall!”

Harlan lifted me up in a bear hug while I pounded on his back, and then he said, “Damn, it’s good to see you! I never knew you were going Artillery!”

“Same to you. It is good to see you! When did you get in?”

“Just a couple of days ago. I’ve been staying at the Best Western. You?” he answered.

“Same here! How’d we miss each other? My fiancée and I drove out here right after graduation. Once I get out of here, I’ll have to figure out how to get her back home,” I told him.

“No shit! At least Anna Lee drove her car. She can get home on her own.”

“Anna Lee?” I asked.

“My fiancée. Hey, maybe we can get together after this and have dinner together, the four of us,” he said.

“I’d like that. What’s the check-in procedure, anyway? My colonel didn’t tell us much,” I told him.

Haran shrugged. “Probably pretty routine. Check us in, get us rooms at the BOQ, meet and greet with the school Commandant, maybe a quick physical. I doubt anything course related will happen until tomorrow.”

I nodded. That made sense. “Think we might end up rooming together again?”

“Want to try?”

“Let’s ask. What’s the worst they can do? Say no?”

Harlan shrugged again. “Sure, why not. Maybe we can go out and find some Orange Army artillery to capture and bring back home.”

I laughed at that. “We’ll have to tell Marilyn and Anna Lee that story. I don’t think they’ll believe it unless we both tell it!”

Harlan started laughing at that, too. “So, what made you choose Artillery?”

“It was either learn how to rain death and destruction down on the godless hordes while defending our fair nation or get stuck in the motor pool. I went with option one. I figure I can kill more people that way than with my driving. You?”

“Same thing.”

“You ever learn how to drive a standard?”

Harlan just laughed at that. Then things started to happen, and we had to quit fucking off and pay attention. The rest of the morning went much like Harlan had expected. Today was check-in day. We were called forward to a counter by a bunch of Spec 4s, had our orders and ID cards checked, assigned BOQ rooms, two to a room, and given a list of do’s and don’ts for the BOQ. Buckman comes before Buckminster, so I ended up asking for Harlan as my roommate. The Spec 4s consulted their sheets and shuffled some things and I had a roommate. Then we stood around until we were sent to a large lecture style classroom, where we were seated, and our teachers and cadre lined the room. In front was a lectern and a light bird welcomed us and gave us some more rules and regs. After that we did some more paperwork, had our security clearances checked, and went to the Officer’s Club for lunch. A captain escorted us and gave us some more instruction on how the club worked, as well as other details on food and lodging. After lunch we were sent off to draw an absolutely outrageous load of textbooks, firing tables, and other essentials before being dismissed to sort things out at the BOQ. Harlan and I swapped room numbers at the Best Western so we could call each other and make dinner plans.

By mid-afternoon I was able to head back to the Best Western, where Marilyn and I loaded most of my gear into the Impala. It seemed pretty simple to get her onto the base, so we drove over and put my stuff in my room. Once we got to the BOQ, we found Harlan and his fiancée moving his stuff in as well, so we did the introductions. Anna Lee was much lighter skinned than Harlan, who was almost pitch black, but she had the same southern accent he did. She was tall and slim, and looked classy. We helped each other move, and then helped our fellow classmates move in. Unsurprisingly, I wasn’t the only guy with too much stuff to pack in our rooms, so I led a small convoy over to the storage lockers and allowed Harlan to share mine while some of the other guys rented one and split it up between themselves.

Dinner was at the Best Western at 1900. I wore civvies rather than a uniform and was pleased to note that Harlan had changed also. My first question was to Anna Lee. “So, how’d you ever meet this reprobate?”

Anna Lee and Harlan laughed. “We met at school,” she said. “I was walking across the quad, and he ran into me!”

“She was wearing these shorts - oh my God! - and...”, interrupted Harlan.

“Watch your mouth!” squawked Anna Lee, at which both Marilyn and I laughed. “No need to tell anybody that!”

I glanced at Anna Lee’s legs, which were pretty good, and nodded to Harlan and gave him a thumbs up. “No need to explain.” That earned me punches from both Marilyn and Anna Lee. I just turned to Marilyn. “You’d better behave, or I’ll tell them the truth about how we met.”

As expected, Marilyn turned red and said, “Don’t you dare!” which made the others more curious.

I simply smiled at her and said, “You can tell them the romantic version, or my more truthful version.”

“You are an evil person,” Marilyn answered. She gave a somewhat limited romantic version, and the other two had me expand on it. The romantic version was the duel. Then Harlan asked for the true version, and I told how she had picked up the bartender at a party, which earned a few squawks from my fiancée. I just shrugged and said I was an officer and a gentleman.

“You may be an officer, but you are no gentleman!” argued Marilyn.

“Well, it was fifty-fifty odds.” I looked at my friend. “When’s the big day?”

“March 11,” announced Anna Lee. “I finish school in December and we’re getting married after that.”

“Good for you.”

Harlan continued, “It’s at the chapel at Ole Miss, in Oxford. You should come. I’m inviting you. Both of you. Come on down.” Anna Lee nodded in agreement.

I glanced at Marilyn, who smiled and gave me a shrug. “Fine by us. It all depends on where we end up, I suppose. If we can make it, we’ll be there. You’re invited to our wedding, too, but that’s next summer and we don’t have a date yet. Want to be one of my ushers?” I asked. “My college roommate is my best man, and you’ve been my army roommate for a couple of years. Why not?”

He laughed. “Love to. Are there going to be any other brothers at the wedding?” he asked.

I just grinned. “Oh, man, it’s going to be whiter than a Klan meeting!”

Harlan just laughed loudly at that, and Anna Lee giggled. Predictably, Marilyn was horrified at my statement. “I can’t believe you said that! You’re such a ... a...”

I just shook my head at her. “I am many things, babe, but that ain’t one of them.” Harlan and his lady were looking at me in confusion. I turned to them and said, “Marilyn is convinced that since I am a Caucasian male born south of the Mason-Dixon Line, I am by birth and definition a racist, and that only Yankees have no prejudices.”

“Oh, Lord!” groaned Harlan humorously. “What kind of a Yankee?”

“A New York Yankee!”

“They’re the worst!” he laughed. He looked over at Marilyn and smiled. “You are aware that slavery was legal in New York until the 1820s, right?”

Marilyn looked like she had been slapped in the face with a dead fish. “No, that’s not true!”

The rest of us just smiled and nodded. “1827, I believe. They weren’t the last of the Yankee states, either. That was Connecticut, I think, and not for another twenty years or so, either,” I said. Marilyn looked at me and I said, “They teach this stuff in schools.”

Harlan looked at me and grinned. “So, how many slaves did your family own, Carl?”