I took my military induction ("Draft") physical on my parents 27th Wedding Anniversary, January 28, 1971. They were spending a long weekend in Tahoe, they left Wednsday afternoon, so I had to get myself up, drive 50-odd miles to Oakland, find a place to park, and arrive at the Federal Building by 8 am. I got there at 8:15, but no one seemed to be upset about it, I was simply handed a paper, and told to sit on the bench for the next group.
They took my group into a classroom, and administered a test. It was a simple test that seemed to focus on the relationship of items, simple math, some grammar, and analytical problems. I was one of the first ones done (not that I'm "superintelligent," or anything), and waited paiteintly for the test papers to be scanned, and to get my "grade," so I could move on. I continued to sit, albeit a little less patiently, as names were called, guys got their piece of paper and left the room. I was last.
"There's been a problem with your exam," a Marine Corporal told me, "you'll have to take the test again."
"Again?" I protested. "Why?"
"Your score was too high."
"HUH?"
"Basically, you aced the exam. 150 out of 150. Nobody does that."
"HUH?"
"We have to make sure you didn't cheat, or anything?"
"HUH?"
"We're not accusing you of anything, it's just that no one, and I mean no one has ever got everything right. We just have to make sure." The Corporal directed me to a front-row student desk, and left me alone in the room.
Several minutes later, the Corporal returned with a new testing group, and administered the exact same test, watching me intently. I took the test again, was the first to finish, and again waited patiently for the results. Again, I found myself alone in that classroom with the Corporal, who admitted to not having witnessed any evidence that I had cheated on the exam, but once again I had aced the test, 150 out of 150. Please, don't get any idea that I'm bragging, it's a really easy test. I would be required to re-take the exam, a third time for the exact same test, this time, one-on-one with a hard-core Master Gunnery Seargent glaring at me the whole time.
I am, protests to my ignorance aside, "nobody's dummy". I have above-average intelligence, and enjoy "figuring things out". After the second test, I figured out that I wouldn't be able to get beyond the testing area unless I gave some incorrect answers. I also figured out a pattern to use by which I could prove I knew the correct answers. I decided to miss every-fifth answer by adding one to the correct answer. If the correct answer on Question 5 was "1," I would bubble in the "2," and so on, wrapping around on "4's". Five, ten, fifteen... all the way through the 150 question exam I recorded my "coded" answers. I finished the test, gave the paper to the "Top," and smiled about my ploy.
"Hah, we knew you were cheating, we just couldn't figure out how. You missed 30 on this one." The guy was convinced that no one could ace that test.
"Yeah," I replied casually, "I bet I can tell you which ones I missed."
"OK, Smart-guy, which ones?"
"Every-fifth, starting at five, add one to the number of the correct answer."
The crestfallen NCO looked at the "misses" on my test sheet, then at me, back to the paper, and added it all up. "You get '80,' it's the most we give." He handed me a piece of paper, and told me to get my "can" ove to the next station.
As it turned out, I had an hour to wait, so I went downstairs to the Main Entrance, to get a soda. I noticed that recruiters from all branches of the service had desks on the main floor, and wandered over to the Air Force desk. "How may I help you?" the recruiter asked.
I explained a bit about my previous two hours, and showed him my piece of paper. "The guy in Testing says it's the highest score they give, so I figure it might be worth something," I told him.
"Well, yes," the Air Force-Guy (AFG) began. "For one, we could guarantee a training school."
"Yeah, what kind of school?"
"I don't know, but it would be guaranteed."
"So, it could be anything?"
"Yeah, but it'll be guaranteed."
I got up, and left without any further exchange. I walked past the Army desk (Brrrr. No jungle for this kid.), thought, for a brief second, about the Marines, and walked straight to the Navy desk, a Petty Officer Lanny Watkins, of the Vallejo office, manning the desk for one of the "assigned" recruiters. I handed him my paper, gave him the same spiel as I gave the AFG, and asked "Whaddayagot?"
"Eighty, impressive, that's the "cream o' the crop. The Navy is always looking for smart young men, and I think we might have something for you. You have to take a day, go to San Francisco and take your 'basic battery' tests, and depending upon those scores, get a guaranteed 'A' School."
Honestly, the decision was pretty easy.
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