Wilson Powell wrote on 2000-04-13 10:43:30.0
Comments: YEAH! I ENLISTED
Wilson Powell, USAF -- 1950 -'54
When the Korean conflict broke out, June 25, 1950, I was eighteen by one day and it was my turn to go.
I'd been brought up with World War II, planted a Victory garden, saved grease, metal foil and newspapers, and earned stripes supporting the war effort. I'd bought Victory stamps and earned enough ten-centers mowing lawns to buy a twenty-five dollar war bond. I'd read Life magazine and seen the maps of war, the progress of victory against our foes on two fronts. I saw newsreels of heroes, men, just a little older than me, fighting amidst explosion and fire. I went to the movies and watched Hollywood's version of war.
So, when my war broke out, I assumed a patriotic posture I thought was real, with no understanding at all of the political realities being fought over or of the masses of civilian victims caught in the middle. My country was at war again and this was my opportunity to become a man.
The Marines and the Army turned me down, because of a football injury. I tried a third time, hiding the injury, and was accepted by the Air Force. They made me a cop, an Air Policeman.
After languishing for several months in the Mojave desert, guarding a remote radar site, I finally shipped over. I was finally in Korea.
I found I was hated, first by North Korean prisoners, which I got used to, then by Korean civilians, which I did not get used to. I learned to hate back. I saw soldiers shooting at civilians to make them run, soldiers made crazy by bad booze and bad consciences, beatings at interrogations, dead children, rape, destroyed homes, strident prostitution, shameless pandering for military script, hunger, even starvation.
The enemy was shadowy, lived in the dark, infiltrated, sabotaged and ambushed. I, alone with my dog in the dark, was supposed to stop that. I lost sleep, turned hard, lost compassion, gained suspicion and wariness and became explosively violent.
One day, I came across an old couple on a very poor farm taking in and caring for orphaned children with all the meager means they had. Their sacrifice, their unselfish humanity, re-introduced me to my own, restored me to sanity. Only then did I start becoming a man.
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Keywords: K-2,K-9,
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