A colonel of truth

When my son was in the Army he was stationed for about 15 months at Fort Leavenworth in Kansas. We visited him several times while he was there.

On one trip, he was showing us around the base. As we walked along a section which was lined by the Missouri River, a man went by, jogging. "Good morning!" I said to him heartily.

"Good morning sir," he replied with a friendly smile.

As I turned back to our little group, my son's mouth was agape and his pallor nearly ashen. He remarked in disbelief, "Dad, that guy you just spoke to was a colonel!"

I replied, "For you, he's a colonel. For me, he's a guy jogging."

I think he was jealous that I was called sir by one of his officers.

The Army changes a man

A old gentleman who lived in the neighborhood years ago, Mr. Harrison, was born named Billy. That's what his parents named him because that's what they were going to call him. It's pretty simple logic, right?

Apparently not to the US Army. When Mr. Harrison was drafted during World War II, he was asked his name upon arrival at the processing station just prior to basic training. He told them it was Billy (which they should have known as they had found him to draft him). The officer in charge asserted that nobody was named Billy. It was a nickname based on William. His name must be William.

"It's Billy," Mr. Harrison insisted. Of course, at that point he was fully initiated into the Army of the United States via his first full-on, complete and total dressing down. He got the screaming and the berating and the in-your-face from this major or captain or whoever he was, the whole nine yards, after which the officer barked at the guy processing the appropriate paperwork, "Put down William for first name."

That was that. From that day forth Mr. Harrison was William, at least so far as the Army of these United States was concerned.

Army logic

A old gentleman who lives in the neighborhood, Mr. Harrison, was born named Billy. That's what his parents named him because that's what they were going to call him. It's pretty simple logic, right?

Apparently not to the US Army. When Mr. Harrison was drafted during World War II, he was asked his name upon arrival at the processing station just prior to basic training. He told them it was Billy (which they should have known as they had found him to draft him). The officer in charge asserted that nobody was named Billy. It was a nickname based on William. His name must be William.

"It's Billy," Mr. Harrison insisted. Of course, at that point he was fully initiated into the Army of the United States via his first full-on, complete and total dressing down. He got the screaming and the berating and the in-your-face from this major or captain or whoever he was, the whole nine yards, after which the officer barked at the guy processing the appropriate paperwork, "Put down William for first name."

That was that. From that day forth Mr. Harrison was William. But his friends still call him Billy.

Comin' Home and Done His Time

Supposedly, hopefully, my son Chuck is at Fort Jackson South Carolina as I write. His hitch in the Army is ending and his out processing starts there.

Thank you for your service, Son, and God Bless.