Adjusting to Life In PATS
Two straight days on KP helped me decide that I hadn’t joined the Air Force to be a kitchen laborer. So a buddy and I devised a plan. We would not get up with the others and march to the mess hall. But, just after they left we quickly got dressed and ran ahead of them to eat before they arrived. Then we returned to the barracks and signed out "going to breakfast". The barracks chief would go to the morning formation and report that all were present or accounted for (no way for him to admit he didn't really know what we were up to). Now the problem with signing out was you could only be gone for 45 minutes. So one of us would go back and sign the others of us out (you weren’t supposed to do this). If the person returned, we had another 45 minutes of freedom from extra duty. I spent a lot of time in the Base Exchange, the library, the airman’s club, or just walking around. Some days the weather was great other days it was snowing or raining, still it was better than KP. And, the field jacket was very handy.!
I did get caught walking back to the barracks once. I usually avoided going past the day room, because that is where the executive officer and his orderly worked. These are the guys that hand out the assignments. The orderly saw me and called me over. He asked, "What are you doing," I foolish said, “Nothing.” He called me into the day room. The lieutenant called him into his inner office. As he went in he told the lieutenant, “I found a man for KP.” He closed the door. I was out the back door in a flash, signed us out again and continued as before. I am sure that he was surprised when he found me gone.
After two weeks in the PATS squadron, we were all sent to different barracks. I went to barracks # 658 also known as Club 658 for its laid back attitude. Our training consisted of two parts. Two hours each morning we would continue basic training. Then we would go to an early lunch then to technical training. The two hours of basic training was mishmash of lectures on VD, Air Force history, chain of command. Apparently, it was a move to appease the Army which had a rugged 11-week basic training program. The very first morning standing in formation in the dark, I saw the sun come up and hit the Rocky Mountains. It was an awesome sight. I had been a bit homesick after arriving in Denver, but the mountains made up for it. I have been in love with the Rocky Mountains ever since.
The new routine was quite easy. Up about seven, breakfast, walk to the basic training area, sit up straight and listen, have about an hour break before lunch, quick lunch, march to the training area, sit in class for six hours, march to the mess hall just before it closed. Now having 600 guys arrive 10 minutes before a mess hall is scheduled to close is not fair to the cooks or the GIs that have to eat there. The cooks tried hard not to waste food, which makes it hard to suddenly serve 600 people. We ate hot dogs a lot of the time. Boiled green wieners. One night they had what I thought was steak. I took a large one—it was liver—yuck. Often there was spaghetti and garlic toast—yum. I still weighed 130 pounds but was consuming an inordinate amount of calories. True, it was not like mom used to make, but there was a lot of it usually. They frequently had cream chipped beef for breakfast. This is the SOS from the war movies. SOS means Same Old Shit (Same Old Stuff in Baptist). I liked it. So did a lot of other GIs.
After a few weeks the two hours daily basic training ended and we were all promoted to airman 3rd class. Pay raise—now I am making $78 per month. The second payday in October (the 31st I think). I received my first check. Previous payments had been in cash. My check was for $2.00. It seems that they had overpaid me and were correcting their error. I cashed my check and spent it on a call home to Michigan. Two-dollars just barely got you a three minute call then.