Blam! Blam! Blam! The doorframe shook as I knocked on it near the metal tag that read SSgt Lewis.
“This better be important boy!” A well known voice yelled out to me.
“Sir! Request permission to speak to the sar-gant on an important matter, sir!” I yelled at the top of my voice.
“Enter.” was all he said in a somewhat lower but still very firm voice.
I quickly entered, saluted, and spent about five minutes explaining the letter. I even handed the letter to him so he could read it. He took the letter, smiled, and quickly tore it into a thousand pieces. He then stood, threw his coffee cup against the far wall. I was amazed as I watched the coffee run down the white cinder blocked wall.
He leaned over his desk, his face turned red once more, and started speaking to me in a very low voice, “Benton, you’re in a swamp full of alligators and you’re worried about a little problem back home? Son, listen to me, and listen well, be more worried about me than you ever could be about that stupid draft board clerk. YOU ARE IN THE MILITARY BOY! THEY CAN’T TOUCH YOU! NOW GET YOUR UGLY FACE OUT OF MY OFFICE!”
By the time he gotten to the last two sentences he was more red-faced and screaming louder than ever before. I quickly did my about face movement and made a fast retreat. At that moment, all I wanted was to be out of there and now!
Well, the war has been over for more than thirty-five years and it has been longer than that since I graduated from basic training. But, ya know, I am still a bit concerned about not answering that draft notice. I understand how the Government works and I don’t want to be retired, living in the back hills, and have a government man drive on my place.
I can just see him get out of his car, walk to my rocking chair, and say to me…”Mr. Benton, you are late. Please pack your clothes and come with me, you’ve been drafted.”
With my luck, there will be a short, muscular, and red-faced staff sergeant, yelling at everyone when I get off the bus. And, I know for sure he’ll remember “his Jethro.”
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