HOM: Wired

School was finally almost over. We were as stuffed with AC & DC motor theory, the winding of armatures, using test equipment, computing volts and amps and resistance, maintaining generators and the ins & outs of shipboard wiring systems as our curriculum & instructors could cram into us. We were ready for the fleet. As EM "A" wound down, there was a lot of debate about where we would be going. The kids in from the fleet would be heading back to their ships, but we Boots would be assigned as needed. I was offered the chance to go to Nuclear Electrician's Mate school up in Idaho, but doing so meant an extra two years of active duty and an assignment on a submarine. Since I'd always had sinus problems I wasn't sure I could handle Sub duty and washing out at any point didn't get you out of that extra two years. I turned it down. No regrets. The chances were that we would go to the Pacific's Seventh Fleet or possibly the Mediterranean. The odds of getting a shore station were astronomical - electricians might draw one two or four year assignment in a twenty year hitch. We were needed on ships, not ashore. There was a lot of discussion and a lot of curiosity and maybe a little worry. Some folks wanted a particular type of ship, like destroyers or other combat ships. Other kids wanted one of the big transport or supply ships. A few of us talked about Vietnam. I had a buddy in my class who was stationed on a submarine tender. He wanted to volunteer for Nam and wanted me to go with him. Most units of the Seventh Fleet that were over there spent their time off the coast providing fire support or launching planes or carrying supplies and drawing combat pay with little risk. There were other operations going on. A friend at Ocean Beach Baptist was a corpsman stationed in Danang and saw a lot of the detritus of war. He loaned his bunk to a new guy one night when he was on duty - a VC rocket hit the barracks and killed the guy that was sleeping in his bunk. A good friend from high school was drafted. He was killed by a boobytrap on his very first day in country. I had a lot to think about. That odd, and maybe self-destructive, tendency I have always had was nagging at me, telling me if I didn't go to Nam I would always feel that I should have. I kept hearing the note of regret in Vic's voice. I was torn between what I felt I needed to do and what common sense - and my family - said I should do. The folks at home worked as hard at talking me out of it as my buddy did talking me into it, so I just put off making any decisions. Procrastination has always been my strong suite. I never did make a decision: I was one of the first to get orders. They were simple: Upon completion of EM "A" School, report to the Patrol Gunboat School at the 32nd Street Naval Station for training. Upon completion of that school, report to the U.S.S. Crockett, PG-88, Cam Rahn Bay, Vietnam. TBC (Me) (Home)