by Uncle Bondee

In our last adventure, Bondee was summoned to Birmingham for a Selective Service medical exam. The group of young men met at the bus station in Athens across the street from the Ross Hotel. Finally, everyone was on the Grey Hound and the black exhaust smoke was bellowing out of the tail pipe as we pulled off. The only bus I had ever seen was a yellow school bus. Cadillac Motor Company must have made this Grey Hound bus with the plush seats and other luxuries. The bus driver let it rip, and we were soon approaching Decatur, Alabama. I was amazed at the big body of water we crossed called the Tennessee River. The biggest river I ever saw before this trip was the Elk River at Easterferry Bridge. I opened my lunch bag and began snacking on my yard fried chicken. The guy seated beside me asked for a piece of chicken. We enjoyed the yard bird and tossed the bones out the bus window. The friend I made with the chicken was from Dogwood Flats, where he worked on a farm. The new friend’s name was Malcolm, and we remained friends throughout our journey.

As we passed through a town called Cullman, I asked the Sergeant if we were about there. He was a sassy little fellow that had a flat top haircut. The Sergeant replied, “Just be quiet and ride. I will let you know when to get off the bus, hillbilly.” I figured the ‘Sarge’ had something wrong with him like an ingrown toenail or something. He never smiled and seemed nervous, like he had drunk too much coffee. We finally arrived in Birmingham at a large barn-looking building made of tin.

The ‘Sarges’ told us to line up for lunch and not to throw any cigarette butts on the ground. They were real concerned about cigarette butts getting on the ground. The military must have been worried about the cigarettes catching something on fire. We got in line, and I couldn’t wait for some Army chow. I told Malcolm that I bet we would have some hamburgers for lunch. The cooks were covering our plates up with food. We found a table and commenced to eat. The food wasn’t half-bad, but was lacking in salt.

After lunch, the medical exam started with the filling out of a medical questionnaire. I helped some of the boys with the form because they could not read or write. I was pretty uncomfortable when we all had to line up and take our clothes off. I had brought a bar of soap from home and had it in my pocket. I had heard if you kept a bar of soap in your armpit, you would fail your physical. I saw that right quickly this way of life was no good for me. I was a very private person and didn’t like being around others stark naked.

As I approached the doctors, I eased out the remnants of the bar of soap. Suddenly, the doctor grabbed my arm and wrapped this rubber cuff around my arm and another started probing around elsewhere. I was ashamed and started to jump around dodging the doctor’s hands. This was the most humiliating experience I had ever had to encounter. The doctor said, “Do you have a high blood pressure problem, son?” I answered, “Never had it checked before. Don’t know.”

The next group of doctors were acting mad and telling everybody to bend over and touch your toes. I was ready to go back home to the Gaston Holler. The ‘Sarge’ told us we had to spend the night and sleep in the barracks . I asked Malclom if he had any money. I was going to buy a bus ticket and go home. We decided to stay and Malcolm said, “Don’t volunteer for anything. I had a cousin who said an officer was looking for someone to drive a pick-up. My cousin, Morris, volunteered and the officer handed him a pick-ax and told him to drive it up to the handle and dig a latrine.”

Everybody was fast asleep about 2 a.m. when this commotion commenced to happen. That little Sergeant came through the barracks beating on a tin bucket. I thought the building might be on fire. But how could a tin building burn I asked myself? The ‘Sarge’ said, “Everybody outside in the lot and don’t bother to dress.” I was already dressed. I was sleeping in my overalls, but I did take my shoes.

When we all got out the ‘Sarge’ yelled, “I want every cigarette butt picked up before we go back inside.” I never understood the importance the Army placed on cigarette butts. They must have been using them in a secret weapon or something. Find out in the next adventure if Bondee made it back to the Gaston Holler in one piece.

Uncle Bondee