The Military & Alternative Service Project — John shares….

Marcia asked her uncles for their thoughts on their experiences with their military and/or alternate service. You can read her original letter here: http://johnbgoering.com/?p=412

Recently Uncle John wrote to share his story:

Upon becoming eligible for the draft in 1947,1 had witnessed differing decisions made by several brothers during world War II. I respected the decisions made by each of my brothers. However, being influenced by sacrifices made by earlier generations to oppose military service, I was leaning to file as a conscientious objector. Yet, I was troubled by inconsistencies in witness by some. Also, one could not escape helping in the war effort: not even Mennonite farmers, and a nice profit was being made by those who were already prosperous because of the war. I mentioned this to dad and he agreed that quote,”You have to be six feet under to avoid the effort”. I discussed my dilemma with others, including Rev. H. J. Dyck at Elbing. Yet, I felt uncomfortable, not so much because of likely negative consequences for taking such a position, but also felt duty bound to serve as a non-combatant. I could not in good conscience serve as a regular. That would mean learning how to kill and put the skill to use. Thus, after much soul searching, I submitted my position of conscience to accept non-combat service. I tried for a deferment because Dad really needed me to take charge on the farm at that time and by then I had decided on farming for my future. But the Marion County draft board denied the request.

My “greeting” from Uncle Sam arrived in early January, 1951. On January 26, just four days before my 22nd birthday, I reported to the K.C. Mo. induction Center, arriving by the milk train. I called it that for stopping at every little town. After being declared physically fit, the powers that be sent me by train to Ft. Sam Houston, Tx for eight weeks of basic training which excluded weapons. My initial culture shock, while getting settled in a barrack, was hearing some gross cuss words especially demeaning to women.

Basic training consisted of marching drills, hiking and running in formation most of the time. They were successful in getting me in great shape with stamina. I experienced my first “known” burst of adrenaline , called a “second wind”. Maybe I had experienced that before when our bull chased me over a fence! Once, while doing maneuvers through some woods, I stepped right over what was later determined to be a sleeping rattler. The soldier behind me shouted to me, “Hey, did you see that?” Another time we bivouacked in an area infested with coral snakes and scorpions. One guy failed to check his boots and had a bout with a scorpion. I observed a coral snake pass my pup tent but none tried to keep company. Of course kitchen police (KP) was a duty everybody did from time to time and usually hated. Sometimes KP was used as punishment. Once my buddy and I ended up in the wrong mess hall quite by accident. Our punishment was to scrub the barrack’s latrine from wall to wall and then later was inspected by a white glove. We would rather have done KP duty and never could figure why they got so riled up. We never again went to the wrong mess hall!

My final exercise in basic training was the obstacle course in which live machine gun firing occurred over the length of the field as we slithered as a snake through barbed wire, etc. to the opposite end. For this we were taken by truck convoy from Fort Sam Houston to Fort Hood, TX. Nobody raised their heads to check whether live amno was actually used, but I maintained the zinging noise overhead was enough to make me a believer.

Remaining at Fort Sam Houston, I was enrolled in the Medical Field Service School for  eight weeks. The training was intense to prepare me for treating and recovery of battle field wounded, etc. Some would eventually be sent to the front lines in Korea as “corpsmen”to aid the wounded. I expected to be a likely candidate and took the training seriously. Several fellow students came from a Mennonite community in central Illinois. Ken Gerig became a good friend and we corresponded from some fears but lost track of each other. He and the others, whose names I cannot recall, went on weekend passes; sometimes to church in San Antonio; once to Corpus Christi. These guys from Illinois brought a car to the base, so we had ready wheels.

Not everyone completed the Medical training program. Some just couldn’t make the grade. I was declared a Medical Technician by the end of eight weeks and officially a Medical Corpsman by the end of June, 1951. Prior to my next assignment, I was given ten days leave, so I got home somehow. I recall having hitch-hiked on occasion through Oklahoma. Traveling in full uniform was helpful, for people would stop.

My next orders sent me to Fort Sill, OK as an aid-man. Fort Sill was an artillery base and I was assigned to assist the base army doctor. Most of my duty was making notes and dispensing medications as directed. Sick call was always busy every weekday morning. When troops were being prepared for shipping to foreign destinations, I and several others were responsible for administering shots and vaccines. That procedure was like running an assembly line. Later the same recipients would return for a reading of results on vaccines and some were quite positive.

At Ft Sill, I learned to know the chaplain quite well. I still have a new testament he autographed: Chaplain William C. Taggart, Jr, 09SEP52, Ft Sill, OK. He highlighted the scripture verse, Romans 8:28.

In early December, 1951, I was ordered to Ft Riley, KS Army Hospital. Seems they needed an administrative clerk who knew how to type, so I was re-classified “Clerk General”. At first I felt like my duties didn’t fit the training and experience up to then. Yet, I enjoyed the duties while it lasted. Being closer to home didn’t help much as weekend passes were not easy to get.

In June, 1951, orders were cut for me to be shipped to Korea. My response was that of surprise and anxiety. Initially I was shipped by train to Ft Ord, CA, near San Francisco. There was about a two week wait for the troop ship. Weekend pass was given, so a buddy and I went to San Francisco; took in a church service and walked the streets of San Francisco. A roving photographer took my photo and asked to whom he should send it. Later I learned that Elva received my photo. About one week later, the troop ship, USNS Gen. D.I Sultan headed out to sea, passing under the Golden Gate bridge. I felt sick already, but not because of being on water! Later, I was sick because of stormy seas and fed a few fish. On 24 July 92 we crossed the I. D. L. (180th Meriden ) on the way to Yokohama, Japan. The voyage took about two weeks to cross the Pacific. Then a troop train took us overland to a base for re-assembly and preparations to continue to Sasebo, Japan where another troop ship would be waiting to take us to Pusan, South Korea. From there a troop truck convoy took us overland route to Chunchon located on the 38th parallel. By that time we were into late August. The front lines were not far to the north. I was assigned to the 7th Medical Battalion Ambulance Company of the 7th Infantry Division. My assignment was ambulance driver and Medical Corpsman. One day we went out to practice digging a fox hole. My digging came upon a rock which I thought could be safely moved, but ended up in the Army hospital at Seoul for a week recovering from back sprain,.

In mid-September, 1952 my unit was moved, along with the 7th Army unit, to the north and close to the front lines. An assault to recover lost territory was being planned. The intervention by Chinese troops had driven the allies back a considerable distance. After setting up bivouac I had my turn at standing guard with a billy club. I prayed a lot. That night, after I was relieved, a Chinese infiltrator was spotted and captured while trying to enter the grounds. During that week enemy artillery opened upon our position, but they overshot the area. I and all present were awarded the “Medical Badge” for satisfactory performance under fire. About one week later the 7th Division assaulted and captured Triangle, Sandy and Jane Russell hills. The time was October, 1952, and north of Kumwha, North Korea. The politicians called this a “Police Action”. I called it by what it was: war. Heavy casualties were flown just behind the lines by helicopter. My compatriot and I took turns driving the ambulance or attending to the wounded in the back of the truck. I’ll never forget the mangled limbs and bloody wounded who by now were silent from sedation and shock. Seems we traveled a lot at night and having to use “cat eyes” for headlights which gave so little vision that we were in constant danger of going off the road. The fear of tipping over with a load of wounded was very real, but, I thank God that it only happened once with an empty ambulance while on our way back to the front. We were transporting wounded to a MASH unit and I cannot remember how many trips we made. After the re-capture of the hills, the ambulance Company was moved back to Chunchon for rest.

Shortly after that, Thanksgiving was celebrated with turkey and all the trimmings. I learned later that a heavy snow storm in Kansas caused the family to be without electricity and had canned liverwurst for dinner. December was extremely cold and my last month in Korea. We had stoves in the tent barracks which kept us warm. But I had my turn at guard duty then too, with a billy club, but we were also further behind the lines. By the time my relief took over I was sure ready for the stove!

About one week before Christmas orders came for my departure from Korea. I was going home!!! I was taken by truck to Inchon Harbor where a troop ship took me back to Sasebo, Japan. My arrival there was just in time for Christmas of 52. I remember a shining cross on a hill overlooking the harbor. I bought myself Christmas presents: a gold ring and camera.

My discharge was completed on February 1, 1953. However, I was obligated for active reserve for up to five years. The church leaders at Elbing, I learned later, were not supportive of my decision. I have no regrets for my non-combatant stand. My experience caused me to value the freedoms that we have even more and honor those who paid the ultimate sacrifice.