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Show File 13 Horror: Selective Service style BY BRUCE PINGREE Certain of my friends, who delight de-light in horror stories, have requested re-quested that I recount my adventures adven-tures with the Selective Service. So by popular demand I have decided de-cided to tell how I discovered the way in which the Army thinks and how I found out about the Communist Conspiracy. It began one bleak day when (thanks to Local Board No. 6) I reported to the Armed Forces Examination Station on Main Street in Salt Lake City. First I took a test designed to find out whether or not I thought a square screw would go in a round hole. Next we filled out a form which listed organizations ranging from the Communist Party USA to the Lithuanian Sailors Sewing Society (or something some-thing like that). All these groups apparently are Communist front groups. We were to check whether or not we had attended any of their meetings or corresponded with them. Being an honest person, I checked that I had written the Communist and Socialist parties. I wrote them and many other groups seeking information on socialized medicine relevant to my high school debate topic for that year. Being honest turned out to be the worst policy, as you will soon see. We next were examined for possible physical defects. For the first time in my life I regretted being healthy. I was hoping that my big toes would be too large for army boots, but alas, my hopes were dashed. I was found fit or healthy or whatever it is they are trying to find. After the physical, the group returned to the testing room, where a thin, obnoxious young lieutenant s?;- "Okav v, fgobut; he picked Up a piece of paper and read it . .Pingree :." "Aghh! rve been Jafted' I thought. 1 wish they would have checked my heartbeat then beCause it had stopped me to hwrUS UeUtenant t0k Ta I . , fiCe t0 exPlain that I hadcheckedthe list ofCommun s groups. He looked at me as though he were addressing Josef Stalin himself, and explained that I now had to fill out more forms. For nearly two hours 1 filled out forms explaining how 1 was involved in-volved in the plot and then was let out for lunch. I ran to a lawyer who 1 knew. He told me just to cooperate and not to worry. I think he told me not to worry because be-cause he noticed that my hair was turning white and I was foaming at the mouth. I could just see filling fill-ing out a job application and getting it returned with, "We don't hire Commies," scribbled boldly across it. I returned to another form. I told the obnoxious lieutenant that if I were really a Red, I wouldn't have checked "Yes, I am a Commie Com-mie and am going to infiltrate the Army. I think they smarter than that," I said. The lieutenant gave me his "That-sounds-like-some thing-a-commie-would-say look" and told me I had to stay at the staion overnight. I explained that I lived just eight miles away and that I wouldn't skip the country coun-try during the night. I begged till he relented and told me to report the next day at 7 a.m. After a sleepless night, I reported re-ported to colonel of military intelligence intel-ligence and his secretary. I filled out more forms and then had am interview which the secretary took down verbatim. The colonel asked me at the end of the interview inter-view if I had anything more to say, so I told how I hated the Reds and loved my parents and how I loved John Phillip Sousa marches, etc. I reiterated that I didn't think a real Commie would check the forms. The colonel told me not to worry because this is just what he had to do because this is the way the Army worked. I felt like telling him that at the salary he made he ought to be fighting the Cong or somebody instead in-stead of just doing things the way the Army works. Fortunately, I kept my mouth shut. Several weeks later I received a notice telling me I was again eligible eligi-ble for the draft. I guess they found out I was not a Communist. It was wonderful to be an American Ameri-can once again. |
