June 13, 2022 - When I was in High School, Mrs. Heyer’s typing class was my favorite. Even though I never learned to use my “little fingers” as part of my home keys, my love for it made me the fastest in the class and I was soon typing 75 net words a minute on an old Royal Manual typewriter. I liked typing so well that I typed sentences with my fingers as I walked along the streets of Center, Texas.
In 1953, I was drafted into the Army and flown via a DC-2 to Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas. I was sent to C-4 AAA RTC to a 75 MM Artillery outfit. On the first morning First Sergeant Frame told us, “When I blow this whistle at 6:00 every morning, you come running.” “I don’t care if you’re on the pot or half naked… you come running!”
One morning as we stood for roll call, he asked, “Can any of you men type?” and my hand shot straight up. From that day, I typed for Capt. Brandaris, our battery commander and our Executive Officer. Capt. Brandaris called me in one day and asked if I’d like to be a permanent NCO in the battery, if I’d like to live off post and if I’d like to spend my two years at Ft. Bless. My answer to all his questions was a swift “yes.” So when the time came for my battery to ship out…. most of them to Korea…. I was the only one left behind.
For the next two years, I taught classes in Troop Morality and The Identification of Enemy Aircraft. I was also Information and Education NCO. My fellow NCO’s and Officers called me “The Preacher” and my last two years in C-4 made Army life almost pleasant.
Was I chosen to stay in C-4 because was I smarter than the rest? The answer is no… and no by far. When we stood in formation that morning, I looked just like the rest of the men. But there was one difference that separated me from them. And that one thing kept me in the U.S… and out of Korea.
... I could type.
