It was thirty-nine years ago, March 1, 1971, that I got "the call" ordering me to report to (what was then called) the Armed Forces Entrance and Examination Station (AFEES). I tell that to the young military folks, and the think I had to report to the Base Exchange, it's MEPS, now. I was on my way into the Navy, something, at age 19, I hadn't informed my parents of, yet.
In 1971, the Selective Service Bureau (the Draft), had a lottery system in place. Each July, they would pull dates out of a barrel -- a sort of Birthday Bingo -- that determined the order of that year's draft. July 15, my birthday, was selected 162, and they expected to take 200, or more. The grim result was, I either had to get back in school (nah), get an apprenticeship at Mare Island (I was on the list), get drafted (being a soldier in Vietnam wasn't all that appealing), or join another branch of the service. On January 1, 1971, I made a resolution to either get on with the Shipyard, or join the Air Force, or Navy. In early January, I got "the Notice," to report to AFEES Oakland for a pre-draft physical, on a date late in the month.
I've got a story about my experience at the "Induction Center," but this isn't the place. (Stay on track. Stay on track.) The short-story is, I decided to join the Navy, had a guaranteed professional rating (DP), was sworn into the Navy Reserve on February 12, 1971, and would go on active duty no later than May. "The Call" on March 1st was a total surprise, even to me.
When the phone rang, Mom jumped up to answer, pronouncing "I'll get it." I remember the scene like it was yesterday, and can still recall the conversation. "Hello," my mother said.
A strange look came over her face as she heard the caller identify himself, and ask for me. "Steven," she called me that when she thought there was something I was keeping from her, "it's a Petty Officer Watkins for you. He says he's from the Recruiting Office in Vallejo?"
"Oh, yeah, I'll take it." I told her, getting up and taking the phone from her hand.
"Carl?" Petty Officer Lanny Watkins inquired (Carl is my "given" name).
"Yes."
"We've had an opening at DP School in June. If you want to go now, I can put you in the group going on March 15. Do you want to go, or wait still?"
"I'll go."
That was it, pretty much. Lanny Watkins told me where and when to report, what to take, and advised me against being late. March 15, 1971, AFEES Oakland, 1 pm, I would take the Oath, and begin my Navy career, not knowing it would become a career at the time.
As soon as my mom had said the words "Petty Officer," both my dad and I jumped. I knew my secret would now be exposed, my dad, a retire Navyman, immediately understood the implications of a "Petty Officer" calling for his 19 year-old son. Poised to take a bite of dinner, my dad's head snapped up, and he dropped the fork. Dad also got a weird look on his face, looking first at my mother, and then me. He was riveted to me, the entire time I was on the phone. Mom kept asking him what it was all about, and Dad shushed her, listening intently to the few words I actually said.
As I hung the phone back up, and returned to the table, my dad's face changed to a curious gaze, touched by a bit of hopeful-pride. "What's that all about?" my dad asked in his "correctional officer" voice, "Where are you going?"
I started at the beginning, and told them the whole story. When I was done, I informed them that I had to be in Oakland, on the 15th at 1 pm, I was going into the Navy. I knew I had made my dad proud, it was on his face, but he was never one to ever express his emotions, and wouldn't actually tell me. Mom "freaked," at first, ultimately realizing that I needed to learn some discipline, and finally grow up. When she calmed down, she hugged me, told me she was proud of my decision, and assured me she would learn to sleep with me out of the house.
Looking back, it was one of the best choices I would ever make.
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