9. IN THE NAVY

In spite of my love for Coca-Cola, I could not get the military out of my mind and was forever seeking ways to enlist prior to the end of the war. As I was approaching the age of 17, I began working on my Mom for her permission to join the Navy. Parental consent was necessary for anyone entering at that age. After finally getting her approval, Wayne Scarce, a fellow employee and I enlisted in the Navy, but did not tell the Coca-Cola officials. We knew they would not like it due to the labor shortage caused by military demands already. We waited until the night before we would catch the bus for Richmond, and I called Mr. Ray, the owner, and told him we had been suddenly summoned to duty and would not be at work the next day. He was furious and used some very profane words that I do not choose to recall, nor do I want to. In any event, we arrived in Richmond the next morning and proceeded with our examination and indoctrination into the U. S. Naval Reserves. When offered the opportunity of going home for 10 days prior to reporting or going on to camp that day, Wayne and I chose the latter and wound up at Camp Peary near Williamsburg, Virginia, that night.

Henry at Age 17

The night prior to my departure for the Navy, I was dating the girl that at that time was the love of my life, Barbara Dellinger. We were sitting in the swing on her porch on East Stokes street pitching woo and at 9:30, her dad came to the door and told her to come in. She said “Okay,” and we continued. At 10:30, he came again and made the same request and got the same answer. We continued and at 11:00, he returned and stated very firmly, “Henry, I mean for you to leave.” I answered, “Yes sir,” and was gone. I might mention that during this time, Barbara was trying to get me to back out of going to the Navy and even said we would marry the next day if I would do so. It was too late of course, but I would not have backed out in any case since it had been my desire for so long to enter.

The next day made me wonder if I had made a mistake in joining the Navy. I had never been subjected to such abuse in my lifetime. The following 12 weeks of basic training would certainly make an impact on my entire future life.

Our Chief Petty Officer was Chief Wooden and he seemed a very caring person when compared with the drill instructors that are portrayed in movies. He would not let that interfere with his getting his company in shape, which he worked at relentlessly.

It was up at the crack of dawn for a quick shower, breakfast, and then the marching. After an hour or so at that, we did calisthenics. We were told that we would feel muscles we didn’t know we had and we discovered the first day that was a true statement. I was so sore that first night after drilling that it was difficult to sleep and even harder to move. That did not interfere with the Navy regulations. However, since the next day was a repeat of the first and continued on until after about a week, the soreness went away and only tiredness was there.

After several weeks we had the opportunity of going to the Army/Navy football game and were told whether to wear our white hats or blue ones, both official Navy issues. We were seated so that, when instructed, we would stand and the color of our caps would spell out “Navy.” This, from the Army side would show up in white letters as “Navy” surrounded by a sea of blue uniforms.

While in boot camp, I met several people I shall always remember. One was Jimmy Ferguson from the Ringgold area. My most vivid memory of him was how he wrote letters to his girl friend, Sarah. Each Sunday, he would write seven letters and number them with a small number so he would know which day to mail it and each day would mail the proper one. The strange thing is he never married her. I lost touch with him after boot camp but will be forever grateful for his parents allowing me to ride home with them in their 1942 Dodge after graduating from boot camp. I did find that he was a rural mail carrier in the Ringgold area.

Wayne Scarce returned to Danville after the war and drove a city bus until retirement. Other than that, I lost touch with him as I did with most of my “boot camp” buddies since most went to different assignments.

One special friend I had in boot camp was James [Red] Grice from La Grange, Georgia. He even came home with me on our ten days leave we were granted prior to shipping out to wherever we would be assigned. I have tried several times over the years to locate him but have been unable to do so. He could have moved from La Grange, passed away, or any number of other possibilities. In any event, I have never been able to track him down.

Another special friend I met in boot camp was W. C. [Buddy] Dickinson. He was my bunkmate [lower bunk], and we became close friends and remained so throughout boot camp. His home was in Newport News, Virginia and after boot camp, he was assigned to a destroyer escort, as I recall, and I did not see him for many years. I will continue with our future relationship later in this book.

After returning from our ten days leave, we all shipped out to different sections of the country or to some ship for duty. I happened to get on a troop train for San Francisco, California. This was a most interesting trip. It was on a train that was designed especially for troops and reminded me of the past when those troops would ride through Danville and yell out the window, “Hey, 4-F! Why aren’t you in the service?” Finally, I was in a position to do the same thing; however, I remembered how those words hurt me, so I refrained from any such yelling. I recall our first stop after leaving Richmond was Clifton Forge, Virginia, and then we continued westward bound on a trip that took 5 days. We went through Reno, Nevada, where the railroad went right down the center of town and even back then, the sign was there declaring Reno to be the “biggest little city in the world!” We passed through Butte, Montana, and snow was about 2 feet deep. We were issued instructions that, under no circumstance could we get off the train. There were several bars and liquor stores within a hundred feet of the train and not a track in the snow when we arrived. When we left, however, the snow was completely messed up by the many tracks made by sailors that violated the ‘stay on board order’. As we crossed the Great Salt Lake in Utah, I mailed a card to myself back home. I have no idea what happened to it, as I have no idea what happened to a lot of my Navy records and materials.

From there, we went to Port Hueneme for combat training. This involved bayonet instructions and was sort of unnerving since I had joined the Navy and had not expected to be fighting with bayonets as the infantry was trained to do. In any event, we had six weeks of it and were put on alert to be shipped out. While on alert, no one was allowed off the base, nor were they allowed to discuss the fact that they had been alerted. Fortunately for me, prior to beginning training, I had some time to explore San Francisco. I decided to begin at the city limits and walk the entire length of Market Street. I had no idea the length of it, but thought it would be something to brag about in the future. I started at the city limits at 5:00 a.m. and walked until 4:00 p.m. and did not get out of the business district. I finally grabbed something to eat and caught the bus back to the base. Even back then, San Francisco was full of gay people. At least five attempted to pick me up. It was really weird.

When my group was put on alert I was posted as guard on the outside perimeter of the fence with instructions not to let anyone enter or leave nor should anyone inside communicate with anyone on the outside. Anyone approaching my duty post was to be challenged and if they refused my orders, I was told to shoot them. Around 11:00 p.m. a car began circling the area and finally came to a stop. A beautiful young lady approached me and I ordered her to halt. She did and I allowed her to approach and identify herself. She did and then asked if I would let her boyfriend who had been let out by the guard previous to me, re-enter. I refused and she pleaded for me to change my mind. I told her to take her car and boy friend and leave or they would both be arrested. She kept on pleading and even showed me the gap in the fence where he had passed through. I simply could not get them in all the trouble they were headed for so I let him in and lucky for me, I didn’t get caught, nor did he or she. As he was going under the fence, I looked back and she was long gone.