(Army 3) Basic training. Arrive Camp Cooke.

There I was, almost 18, dropped off at the train station in Surf, California. New army duffle bag, full of new army clothes, ready to save the World. Ready for six months of basic training at Camp Cooke, which was located nearby in Lompoc. The country was much like the country around Pomona where I was raised. Soft rolling hills with oak trees here and there.

I was destined to spend years in this area after the war. At San Luis Obispo. just north of Arroyo Grande, for four years of college and in Santa Maria as station manager for an oil field service company, Schlumberger. My youngest child Michael was to be born in Santa Maria.

I can remember being told that we would be confined at Camp Cooke for six months without any leave. This was a shock to me. I was used to coming and going as I pleased. I got through it but it seemed like an eternity. It seemed like a prison. 

Can you make me out? Third man in the second row.

We were combat engineers. I call it "Infantry with Shovels". We went through the standard infantry training with bridge building, etc thrown in. We built a bridge on a road that was located along the beach. I had a hard time with the obstacle course. Going over a tall wall with full pack and rifle was almost impossible for me. Bayonet training gave me the chills.

I prayed that I would never have to use the training. We were given WW I rifles at first. Soon we were given new M-1 rifles. Boy did we think we had the latest and greatest. We were trained to take an M-1 apart and put it back together blindfolded. If you dropped your rifle you were required to have it with you for 24 hours. To the bathroom, meals, and to bed at night.

An item that sticks in my memory is an old army routine that they called a "short arm" inspection. At two in morning in the freezing cold they got us all up and told to fall into formation. The only thing we had on was a rubber raincoat and a pair of shoes. Boy was that rubber coat cold! A nice breeze was blowing in from the ocean. Then a medical officer accompanied by an aide with a flashlight came down the line. We opened the our raincoats and the officer inspected our "short arm". This terrible experience will alway be in my memory. This operation was conducted to find any cases of VD. I do not think that they do this inspection any more. I hope.

One time we were called out to fight a brush fire. A poor deer came running out of the fire. We killed the deer with our shovels and had him for dinner. That is the way combat engineers hunt deer. I do not believe Louisiana has a shovel deer hunting season. One time while on maneuvers one of us killed a cow (by mistake?). Each man in the battalion had to pay 25 cents to the farmer. We also ate the cow for dinner.

Here is a photo of a 18 year old killing machine.