“One of those chiefs had a bone against me. I wasn’t sure they... uh, he, was going to let me pass… but the other thought I was okay.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know for sure… could be the way I was dressed.” I searched my mind for a reason and I could think of a dozen... like when he saw my hair was dyed, he might have thought I was queer. Or, he might have thought I was too cocky but I felt like it wouldn’t be appropriate to admit any of that to Rodriguez.
“I bet he thought you’re queer,” he observed in spite of my evasion. “A lot of queers try to get in the Navy so they won’t have to hunt Gooks.”
“You might be right.” He was on to me! and, Gook? it just didn’t ring right to my ear, “I don’t know, he was a prick but the other guy was okay.”
Just then the Salt One came in the door straight to a podium where he politely asked us, “Gentlemen, please stand.”
We stood; some in a slightly slumped over posture and some at Boy Scout attention.
“Raise your right hand and repeat after me after I say 'I', you say 'I', and give your first and last names.”
“I, Sean Mckee,” I repeated amidst the rumble of a hundred voices reciting their names.
“Do solemnly swear.”
A chorus responded in a ragged unison, “Do solemnly swear.”
“That I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States…”
Again in rumbling unison, “… that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States…”
“Against all enemies, foreign and domestic;”
My mind raced with objections between each line… how many of these guys even know what the constitution is besides a piece of old yellowed parchment behind glass? “against all enemies foreign and domestic;”
Reading from the card he’d read from hundreds of time since he’d received a cushy transfer to the Federal building, the Chief droned on, “that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and faithfully obey the orders of the President of the United States.”
The sound of more hesitant and confused young voices reverberated in the hall echoing twisted tongues, “and that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and faithfully obey the orders of the President of the United States…”
“…and the orders of the officers appointed over me…”
Some were looking around the room at the others and I doubted most even heard themselves saying the words. It was clear that everyone’s tongue was getting tired because all that could have been made out of it would have been, “an-th-ords-cers-pointed-o’er-me.”
As a counterpoint to the oddly harmonious mished and mashed jumble of the recitation, the Chief’s next words were so sharp they pierced our consciousness, “… AHC-cording to REG-ulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice.”
Everyone snapped to attention repeating a clear and precise as the Chief, “… according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice…”
“So help me God.”
All knew that this was the end of the oath and even more fervently united than before, “So help me God.”
So help me God, I thought… shit, what have I gotten myself into?
So help me God.
We had a break before the buses arrived and were issued G.I. chits for lunch at a joint down on Market a few blocks. I sat with Rodriguez and a couple of real hard-core Mexican gangsters. I wondered how they got past the “Salt One” Chief as they boasted of petty crimes and court dates missed for this or that burglary. Rodriguez was another story altogether. He was born and bred for military service and it was a sure thing that anyone could see he would be a leader… the kind of leader that would be followed out of respect, not fear.
This time my involuntary fast was broken, I didn’t take my time with the food. I ordered a greasy… greasy cheeseburger with greasier fries. I wolfed it down without hardly tasting. I found it to be somewhat of a myth that a hungry man oughtn’t stretch his stomach so fast. Mine must have been extra-ordinarily elastic because I stretched it to its limits as others left fries or onion rings on their plates I swooped in on the plates as soon as they rose from their tables. I have been hungry since then but never have I crammed down food with so much enthusiasm. I would admit, however, it did have some dour after-affects but it was worth it.
Outside the café a rotund pitch black woman with enormous breasts heaving under a choir gown...mitts for hands... pounding a tambourine against thick thighs... singing at the top of her lungs, “I’ll fly away… oh, Glory! I’ll fly away… when I die, hallelujah by and by…. I’ll fly away…” She then broke out from singing... spewing spit shouting to the sky alone with squinted eyes!", "Repent! The day of the Lord is at hand!"
Some of the guys had never been to the city before and stood by, stunned, to gawk in wonder mostly at her gigantic mounds unrestrained under the gown. I was an old hand... street-wise, now. But I stopped regardless to hear her... as more of an oracle and, as an oracle, it wasn't boding well for me at all. I joined the others and walked back to where the buses were parked.
The Chief was there at the first bus, “Okay, you maggots might have heard me call you gentlemen before. Get this straight, you were civilians then. You took that oath and I gave you an hour of liberty just now. After you took that oath you became Government property. You are my maggots now. Put out your cigarettes and get in line.”
We all boarded buses that hauled us to the San Francisco Airport. As we got off the bus there we were confronted by the first Vietnam War protesters I’d seen so far. No one called us baby killers or spat on us but they did shove placards in our faces admonishing us not to become tools of oppression. A cute bohemian girl, in black dancer tights, braless, fishnet stockings, jet-black hair tied back; with cheap, thin soled, black, Chinese slippers, held a sign saying something like; “No Sex until there is No War!” She pled with us as we passed to turn back before it was too late. I was near going AWOL and I hadn’t even gotten as far as boot camp!
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