Conference turris::womannotes-v1

    Maggie, what a coincidence!  I enlisted in the women's army corps
    exactly 19 years ago today!  I was 18 at the time.  I joined because
    I wanted to meet men and travel.  But, as the song goes, "All I
    see are G.I. Girls!", and the only travel was Alabama.  I was in
    for 3 months and got myself kicked out on purpose because I hated
    it so much.  I have no respect for the military and would advise
    no one that I liked to join.  However, I think it would be a fitting
    punishment for some people I've met :-).  I'd like to go into this
    further but have DEC van to catch.
    
    Lorna
    

    I enlisted in 1970, USN, I was in the service for 2 years, 9 months,
    4 days and 2 hours 14 minutes.  I was a 'dentalman', in the Dental
    Corp...my first college training was in Dental Assisting...another
    ghettized job for women outside the Navy.  Inside the Navy it merely
    suc**d.  I learned all those nasty words...I grewup and became an
    ardent feminist while in the Navy.  Be the first one on your block
    to go to a women's rally in uniform and see the fireworks that result.
    All my friends in the Service taught me how to endure the patriarchy
    at it's worst....I know, I know... no one asked me to enlist... 
    I completed my obligation and got the GI Bill such as it is for
    school...I married and then later divorced....I wnet in when I was 
    19 and I didn't know anything at all about life...some say I still 
    don't :-).
    
    I was stationed at NAS Moffett field in Mountain View California.
    I guess I wantched too many John Wayne movies as a kid....All of
    my friends were in Vietnam and I wanted to do my bit but, they didn't
    need any more women in Vietnam during my tour...I always felt quilty
    about that.  many of my friends didn't come home from the war. 
    I thought I could make a difference?
    
    If my daughter wanted to enlist in the service I'de let her do it
    after I told her some war stories about being a woman in the military
    that I cannot write in this file.
    
    MaggieT

    Lorna, if it's not too personal a question, how does one get oneself
    kicked out on purpose?
    
    I ask because some of my male friends with military experience have
    told me that doing blatant things with the intention of getting
    thrown out usually results in being treated terribly and kept in
    anyway.
    
    Holly

    I tried to enroll in Air Force ROTC while in college. I couldn't
    pass the physical because of knee problems. When I graduated, jobs
    were hard to come by. I tried enlisting in the Army and Marine
    Corps. Again, I flunked the physical due to knee problems. I was
    a bit upset; here I had lettered in 3 college varsity sports and
    yet I couldn't pass a military physical. The recruiter told me not
    to feel too bad; he said that if there was ever a draft  and they
    drafted women, they wouldn't let a little thing like my knee stop
    me.
    
    I had a lot of reasons for trying to sign up. If I could have gotten
    into ROTC it would have helped a great deal with college costs.
    Down deep, I really feel that I owe my country something. I, too
    had some friends that didn't make it back from 'Nam in one piece,
    and even though I'm sure I wouldn't have gotten near the fighting
    I at least wanted to try and do my part to help.  I also didn't
    think that it was fair that men had a "military obligation" and
    I didn't. And, I never wanted to be beaten out for a job because
    I didn't have veteran status.
    
    Deb

>   Why did you sign up?  

    I didn't sign up because the recruiter came to the house and said
    a great many vague words.  Didn't know if I would end up a cook, a
    secretary, or a bomber pilot.  It was my instinct for adventure
    that made me consider it, and my unease as her evasiveness that 
    kept me a civilian.

    I'm not sure if she was vague on purpose or just figured I was
    not good material (granny glasses, loooong hair, levis, and
    pretty inquisitive about what she had to offer.

>   How would you react to your daughter if she were considering it?

    Try to convince her to go to college or work overseas instead. 
    Take the adventure you can stop.             Meigs    
    

    Gee, I wrote this before there were any other responses to read.  I 
    think mine's the most positive so far -- maybe that's why it's so long 
    -- even so, the other responses have prompted me to add a little more
    info.

    I was in the Air Force from 1975 to 1979, so I was in for 4 years, as 
    an enlisted woman.  When I started going around to the recruiters, I'd 
    hoped to find a 2 or 3 year enlistment possibility, but no go.  I knew 
    I could tolerate something I hated for 2 years.  I decided that I could 
    probably last for 4.  In the back of my mind, though, I knew that if I 
    was so miserable as to be suicidal, and there were no other doors open,
    the Air Force didn't want lesbians and they gave pregnant women the
    option.  I don't mean to say that I would've lied about my sexual 
    orientation or gotten pregnant because it never got that bad, but
    the knowledge was there and I think it was a comfort to me when I
    faced the big, unknown, 4 year committment.

    Holly, I don't know what your friend could do, specifically, to get out.
    It didn't seem to be too difficult to get out, when I was in, but I 
    think their willingness to let you go depends on a lot of factors.  If 
    any of the following conditions exist, it probably makes it harder (if 
    not impossible): if they're short-handed generally, or short-handed 
    specifically in your specialty; if there's a war or a conflict going on 
    in which the US has an interest (interpret that as broadly as you like);
    if you're a man (potential fighter); if they've spent a lot of money 
    training you; if you've been in longer than 180 + n days (as n increases, 
    the chance of getting out early decreases)... Um, can't think of 
    anymore.  When I was in, discharges before the end of one's contract
    were most commonly granted to those who could prove that their recruiter
    had promised something that hadn't been (and couldn't now be) delivered.
    This is why it's so important to get the recruiter to put everything in
    writing.  Sometimes they don't start talking reality until you ask them
    to put their promises down on paper.  I'm sure that some (maybe all)
    of the horror stories I heard were true.

    I signed up because it was the summer before another semester at college
    where I'd been a not-so-ambitious student for a couple of years.  All of
    my friends were of a different graduating class and they were all 
    graduating and leaving town.  I had no skills that would get me a decent
    paying job, I didn't know what I was interested in nor what I wanted to 
    do for work, but I knew for a fact that I didn't want to work much 
    longer as the laundry lady in the local nursing home.  I had a $3000 
    educational loan to pay off.  

    I'd had an aunt who'd been in the Army during World War II, and a close 
    friend who had joined the Army straight out of high school.  And many 
    other friends-of-friends or brothers-of-friends who'd stayed on after 
    having joined the Air Force to avoid getting drafted into the Army or 
    Marines during the Viet Nam war.  

    So, it wasn't a foreign idea to me.  On top of all that, I knew I'd want
    to go back to school again sometime in the future and I didn't want to 
    have to sign my life away to a bank when the time came.  I also wanted 
    to do something different, go somewhere different.  (You're given the 
    opportunity to pick where you go: you write down your first three 
    choices and they do their best (or so they say) to send you to one of 
    those places.  I put Iceland as number 1 but didn't get it.  When I 
    asked why (I mean, how many people were requesting Iceland?!) I was told
    that they had no facilities for women...

    I was what they called an Avionics Navigational Systems Specialist.  I 
    repaired the navigational radios and radar that were used by the pilots
    flying cargo planes.  The job was fun.  Sometimes it was dirty and
    cold.  I worked in the shop at a bench or out on the flight line.  
    Climbing on, in, over, through and under the airplanes was fun.
    Sometimes I had to work in the docks (the hangar where a plane due for 
    inspection was parked) inspecting my equipment, and found out that
    there are passageways all over the place just under the skin -- not
    for the claustrophobic, but it was like a huge jungle gym.  We had a
    radio at the top of the tail, so I had to go up there, up a ladder 
    inside the tail.  

    Sitting in the cockpit while the crew chief tested the engines was fun.
    Working on a part of a big machine was fun.  We played war games, and 
    as silly as they were (and as horrifying as the concept really is) that
    was fun, too.  The whole base might pretend that this one specific area
    was Enemy Territory.  It's fantasy land.  I once drove into Korea by 
    mistake (those who drew the borders clumsily included my short cut
    back to the shop inside the borders) and luckily wasn't caught -- the 
    military police wouldn't've treated my mistake as a joke, and would
    have had me and all my co-workers face down on the pavement with their 
    M16's in our backs (I never knew whether they were loaded with live
    ammo or not).
         
    Speaking of ammo.  I happen to be very lucky when it comes to shooting
    guns, in that I've always been a pretty good aim, even though
    unpracticed.  When I had M16 training, I was the only woman in the class.
    By the end of the day, when we were being tested, that gun had become
    so heavy that I could hardy hold it up, never mind holding it steady.
    I don't know how it happened, but I got a 96 out of a 100 score (I suspected
    that stray bullets found their way to my target because my arms had
    shuddered under the strain).  Anyway, none of the guys had talked to me
    all day, but when we were sitting on the bus, waiting to be driven back
    to our barracks, the guy in front of me turned around and said (real cool)
    "So, how'd ya do?"  As soon as I told him my score, he suddenly
    became mute...
                  
    I had only one blatantly sexist experience.  One of the radar units
    that we repaired weighed 85 pounds and was installed in the wheel
    well above the front landing gear.  Installing that bugger was a
    two person job.  One night, we got a call for assistance from one of
    the guys who was working on a plane that was ready to take off.  I was 
    inexperienced, but the only one available, so they sent me.  I'd
    helped to install these things before and I knew how it was done: one 
    person got up on the mounting frame inside the wheel well, and when
    handed the unit by the person lifting from the ground, hoisted it
    up another three inches or so and slid it into the mount.  Well,
    Rodney didn't like women in the shop.  And, he liked them on the
    flight line even less.  He sort of flipped when he saw me get out
    of the truck.  I asked him if he wanted help.  He was pretty much
    incoherent, but I followed him around as he ranted and raved until
    I got an answer to my question.  When he finally said "no," I got
    back into the truck and drove back to the shop.  When the boss wanted
    to know what had happened, I said "He wanted to do it himself,"
    and explained what had happened.
    
    I left because my time was up.  I'd also compromised some fuzzy anti-
    military beliefs to join in the first place and though they hadn't 
    gotten any clearer they hadn't gone away, either.  Still, it wasn't easy
    to leave.  I met some great people.  It had been a very secure 
    existence, too.  I've known of others who had a different experience, 
    but they "took care of" me.  I didn't have to worry about food, 
    clothing, shelter or medical and dental care.  And, from my experience 
    only, all were adequate.  Also, at about the time I was getting ready to
    get out, I'd heard that my friend who'd joined out of high school had 
    become some high ranking something-or-other in "assignments" and I 
    could've had the location of my choice world-wide through her.  Oh, was 
    _that_ tempting...

    I've said a little bit about what it was like, but there's more.  It's
    interesting.  It's a whole 'nother world.  Every base is like its own
    self-contained community.  It was hard, and rewarding, too, in a 
    thousand different ways.  It is a mountain of meadow-muffins.

    I don't regret doing it, so I guess I could say "I'd do it again."  I've
    thought more than once about doing it a second time, but I intentionally
    procrastinated 'til I was too old, so I'm safe from that impulse.

    If I had a daughter who was considering it, I think I'd have to examine
    my conscience and come up with the cold hard words which would clarify 
    my fuzzy anti-military feeling, so that I'd be able to talk to her about
    her own feelings.  I'd make sure she thought about it critically, and 
    knew why she wanted to do it and what she expected to get out of it,
    wasn't just doing it on impulse and wasn't being swayed by some 
    unrealistic romantic notions.  I'd offer to go interview the recruiters 
    with her.  I couldn't out-and-out recommend it (to anyone) but I'd tell 
    her what my experience had been like.

	Well, I feel rather guilty. I'm another short timer. I got out after
	7 months when they failed to put me and Ray at the same base. I got
	an honerable 'failuer to join spouse'. Since they had us more than
	50 miles apart. You can't always get this though. The only training
	they gave me was basic as I was already registered in x-ray and
	radiation therapy so they didn't have that big of an investment. If
	I had gone to an AF school for training it woud have been different.

	Why did I join? OK, everybody groan, because Ray did and I let the
	recruiter convince me that joining together was the only way to be
	together. My Mom told me I'd hate it. She was a Navy nurse in WWII
	and knew I'd hate the disipline. I was pretty low at the time though
	and so was Ray. We'd been living as ranch hands in the outback of 
	eastern Colorado (goddess I was lonely out there). Ray was paid so 
	little we had to get food stamps. The boss found out and kicked us
	out of the ranch house saying nobody on welfare deserved this job).
	We lived in our truck 3 days with 2 dogs and 2 cats. Our horses were
	at a friends (a horse is part of a ranch hands employment needs if
	you wonder how we got food stamps when we had horses, a business
	expense). Ray was a high school dropout who'd gone back and gotten
	a GED - guess more education and the GI bill was starting to look
	pretty good. 

	I have mixed feelings about the service. Some of it I hated and some
	of it I liked. I suppose we'll discuss all of it as this topic
	evolves. liesl


	

    re: 463.6
    
    Wow!  What a great response.  All of those thing, I was thinking
    yesterday, but couldn't seem to put it all to words.  I was in the
    Air Force from July 3 1969 to December 12, 1975 - 6 1/2 years! 
    Many people ask me why I didn't just stay in, but, in my case, I
    was in adminstration and couldn't seem to cross train out, into
    a technical field.  I thought that the longer I stayed in, the less
    likely a request to cross train would be taken seriously.  Anyway,
    EVERYONE was crosstraining out of administration, what would they
    do without me??!!  So, here I am, working in software via hardware
    technical school and quite a bit of detours here and there (hardware
    jobs for 6 years - software only 3 years now)
    
    Back to the Air Force.  Boy, what a life!  You are right, you never
    have to worry about a thing.  I ALWAYS had money in my pocket to
    burn, as well as a whole lot more squirreled away that I didn't
    even have plans for.  Also, I was lucky enough to have done some
    travelling.  I have been places that most American women don't even
    think about.  I would NEVER have seen and done what I did if I had
    NOT joined the Air Force.  I lived in England for two years, visited
    more than half a dozen other countrys, including a large portion
    of Turkey.  
    
    Would I do it again?  You bet!  Only this time, if I could say that
    I knew then what I know now, I would spend ALL my leave time visiting
    and doing new things and spend less time visiting the family.  (I
    know it must sound cold, but once you are home for a couple of days,
    it is enough - two weeks is too long when you could spend at least
    half of it visiting Paris, instead.)   Flights were easy to get
    to anywhere - where else, but at an Air Force base!  And if you
    get stuck, no problem, the Air Force takes care of their own.
    
    I know this is too long, but the last paragraph just made me remember
    the USO facility at the St Louis Air Port.  If you were military
    and had a layover at the Air Port (like I ALWAYS had a 6 hour layover)
    you could go to the USO facility where there was a lounge with all
    kinds of games, TV, free food, SHOWERS, BEDS even, and *nice* ladies,
    like moms, to make you feel at home.  (sigh, I just don't know how
    those poor civilians could stand it.)
    
    I am sorry to say, that I am now too old to rejoin.  I must say,
    that being civilian does give you alot more freedom (quite alot),
    it's just a little more expensive.
                           
    If my daughter were to join, I would make sure they knew all the
    bad things first, then let them decide for themselves (yes, there
    were bad thing, but that goes for everything).
    
    Sorry to ramble,
    
    			Kathy

    Okay.  Now that the mill has its power back and I can access notes,
    I'll describe my experience a little more fully.
    
    First off, maybe I would have liked the air force better but I was
    too short to be accepted by the air force.  My brother went in the
    Navy but I've always been afraid of water, and he told me horror
    stories of swimming training in basic. 
    
    The conditions which led up to me enlisting in the army were that
    I was 18, graduated from high school for over a year, I didn't go
    to college, I didn't have a boyfriend, and I didn't know how to
    type.  In 1968 it was extremely difficult to find a job in central
    Massachusetts under those circumstances.  Most of my friends were
    either in college or getting married.  I didn't go to college because
    a) I had flunked Algebra and Geometry in high school (although I
    always got A's and B's in English and History course - not a complete
    dummy - math was always my drawback), and b) my parents didn't have
    dime to give me for any type of training.  I didn't have a boyfriend,
    or a job at one point.  I didn't know what was going to become of
    me.  I was afraid I was going to stagnate forever in Upton, Mass.
     While babysitting I saw an ad for the WACS in a Seventeen mag.
     I clipped it out and sent for information.  The next day a WAC
    recruiter called me and asked me to go into Worcester to talk to
    her.  I did.  I found out later that she lied horribly to me.  She
    told me the WACS had no field training, no gym classes, and that
    we could pick wherever we wanted to be stationed, etc.
    
    When I went to basic training at lovely, Ft. McClellan, in Anniston,
    Alabama, I was immediately treated as though I had arrived in a
    woman's prison, or reform school for delinquent teenage girls, yelled
    at, de-humanized, and treated like shit in every possible way. 
    I spent nights doing things like scrubbing the lautrine floor with
    a toothbrush, scraping wax off of floors with a razor.  
    
    I was brought up in a monetarily poor household, yet it is amazing
    how my mother still managed to spoil me.  I had been protected and
    sheltered all my life, and my mother had waited on me hand and foot
    as though I was a princess.  I had never been hit and scarcely yelled
    at.  I was not ready for military life.
    
    I found out that if you flunk basic training twice in a row you
    get kicked out.  It took me 3 months, it was not easy.  People screamed
    and yelled at me, taunted me, and made me the butt of all kinds
    of verbal abuse.  But, I flunked inspection after inspection, drill
    after drill.  I remembered Ghandi and Thoreau and just refused to
    do what I was supposed to do.  Officers would inspect the area and
    my bed and locker would be in a tangled mound,  we would march and
    I'd wander along out of step, we'd do exercises and I'd sit and
    daydream.  Finally, it worked and I got out.  It was an interesting
    experience, but not one I'd care to repeat since I'm more belligerant
    now than ever.
    
    If my beautiful, intelligent daughter ever felt like enlisting I
    would tell her horror stories, plead, beg and if she left on the
    plane for basic I'd be in the airport screaming, "Melissa, don't
    go!  Listen to your mother!"
    
    Lorna
    

    By the way, I got an honorable discharge due to "Apathy", although
    I haven't known too many people who have cared more about anything
    than I cared about getting out of the army.
    
    Lorna
    

    As good as my experience was, the military life is hell for others, and 
    was hell (to one degree or another) for most of the writers in this 
    note.  I think it's kind of funny that the other positive reply was from
    a former USAF enlistee, like me.  We always knew we were the best!  
    Crazy, but I _still_ feel a sense of comaraderie...

    Maybe one of the reasons I liked it so much is that I like being part of
    a team, so much more so than being an independent agent.  Basic training, 
    the whole four years, was filled with a large amount of dog poop, but I 
    eventually found it laughable (on the inside -- I was no glutton for 
    punishment) and was able to go along with it.  Yes, I too have scrubbed 
    floors (the corners and cracks) with a tooth brush and scraped up the old 
    wax with a razor blade.  I polished latrines and policed vast, immaculately 
    manicured expanses of grass, looking (sometimes desperately) for the stray 
    paper fragment or piece of string so I wouldn't have to go back to my TI 
    and explain why I was empty-handed.  

    I think one note on the military is probably enough, so I've got a few
    memories from basic training to share...

    As the other respondants here know, everything had to be folded just-so.
    Well, eventually everyone in my barracks decided it was stupid to have
    to fold and refold one's undies after they'd been folded perfectly once,
    so at night, after we'd finished polishing our shoes and getting 
    everything else just-so, we'd all go to the sink and wash out the undies
    we'd worn that day and hang them off the ends of our beds to dry.  One 
    night our TI decided it was time for a midnight look-see.  She was not
    impressed.  Needless to say, we were up without a kind word.  Most of us
    thought it was morning... she gave us 10 minutes to be ready for 
    inspection.  She inspected us.  We cleaned the barracks, while she 
    "encouraged" us with an inspirational diatribe.  When everything was 
    back in tip-top shape, she sent us to bed and left.  In 15 or so 
    minutes, just long enough to start drifting back to sleep, she was back 
    again like everyone's worst nightmare and we went through the whole 
    routine, again.  I don't think we got to sleep till 3.  And we were up 
    as usual at 6.  The "dorm-guard" got extra attention from Sgt. 
    Panamarenko, too, for allowing us to hang our undies from our beds...

    Speaking of guard duty... I always thought it enormously funny that the
    guard (and me too, when I was pulling guard duty) snapped to attention
    and saluted the intercom when addressed by Sgt. Whoever-It-Was in charge
    at the HQ across the street, as if they were there In Person!  Oh, 
    wasn't guard duty silly?  I somehow managed to get the 2am-4am slot on a
    regular basis... gotta check all them electrical outlets to make sure
    they aren't smoking.

    And, Oh! What heaven!, when I got to my training base and was allowed to
    wear my civilian clothes again and put my hands in my pockets and stroll
    down the street!  When the bus drove into Keesler (in Biloxi, 
    Mississippi) and stopped in front of my new barracks, I thought I'd been
    brought to the the summer camp I'd never been sent to as a kid:  we 
    parked in front of a row of neat little white-washed cabins nestled in 
    amongst gently swaying pines.  It didn't take too long before I came 
    back down to earth (it was like going from a concentration camp to a 
    minimum security prison) but I'll never forget that initial feeling of 
    relief.

    CQ

    Re .11, you triggered a couple of "funny" (now) memories for me.
    
    1.  After a very important inspection when the others had tried
    so desperately to have everything just right - panty hose rolled
    so tight that when you throw it against the wall it won't unroll,
    etc., and I had deliberately made my area as messy as possible stuffing
    candy and cigarettes in amongst my clothes and leaving my stockings
    in a heap, and my bed unmade, the sergeant started yelling at me,
    and one other girl started laughing hysterically and couldn't stop,
    and the sergeant forgot about me and started yelling at her, "Stop
    that, there's nothing funny about Pvt. Burns.  She's a disgrace
    to the Women's Army Corps!"  I stood there straight faced while
    this other girled collapsed in gales of laughter.
    
    2.  Our lieutenant yelling at me before a parade, "Burns, you look
    like you just crawled out of a laundry basket.  We don't want you
    to  march with us in the parade.  How does that make you feel, Burns?
     We want you to stay in the barracks all alone.  How do you feel
    about that Burns?"  I said, very politely, "Well, I really don't
    care much for marching anyway so it doesn't bother me much."  Lots
    of snickering going on all around.
    
    It was kind of fun to make trouble after a lifetime of being a goody
    two shoes!
    
    Lorna
    

    
    Lorna, I think you've got a terrific sense of humor over what was
    obviously a very distasteful experience.  I know it wasn't funny
    then, but you relate it in a humorous manner.  Your response to
    the Lieutenant was perfect.  In fact, your strategy for getting out
    was perfect -- they want to rile you up, they want to catch you
    off guard and keep you there, they want you to follow orders!  Just
    passively resisting and being calm and polite about it was perfect.
    But, the poor girl next to you during inspection!  I remember how
    hard it was NOT to laugh sometimes --  like trying to hold in a sneeze 
    only to have it explode out your nose.
    
    CQ

    Bainbridge Maryland in the Middle of winter.  OH what joy.  Walking
    across the gridiron with the windblowing and the temperature at
    6 below, putting up the da** flag.  At 5:45 am no less, flag goes
    up the trumpet sounds.  Boot camp for 3 months.  They called us
    ladies but treated us like swine.  I still fold clothes the Navy
    way.  When I arrived to Bainbridge there we two other 'ladies' from
    Massachusetts with me.  After 5 weeks, they had left.  Our CC (company
    commander-RM Contini-) rode me ragged, to see if a 'lady' from Mass
    could measure up, or if we would all washout.  
    
    One day I was so sick marching in place and being inspected, I leaned
    over and threwup all over the shoes of the inspecting officer. 
    The Navy thought one had to be dead to go to sickcall.  I had walking
    pneumonia (sp) for two months.  
    
    Just some off the wall memories..
    maggieT

I was also in the USAF from Nov of 73 to April of 79....  I forget what 
Basic Training Squadron, but we were the last set of females to go through 
the "old" dorms, (2 girls to a semi private room as compared to the new 
dorms of open bays)...

I had a "hell" of a time getting though Basic Training... I was only 18, 
scared to death, and was extremely homesick....  I "hated" being told what 
do do, and how to do it [I was 18, and "thought" I ruled the world ya know 
:-)....]... It was hard, but I did get through it... and am a better person 
for it (personal opinion here you see)...

I was a Dental Hygienist for 4 years, and got extremely tired of teeth...
I was also one of the few woman who had to go before a board to stay in 
when I was pregnant in 1974.... at that time they kicked you out if you got 
pregnant... now, you have to petition to get out, and they don't have to let 
you out...

After 4 years, (and two kids later).... I re-enlisted, but changed jobs to 
Disaster Preparedness... I had to petition to go into the job, as it was NOT 
a field open to woman, but they (the government) were "thinking" of running 
a test of 5 woman through it...  I was chosen as one of the five...  It 
was hard getting though the Tech School where the wash-out rate was 80 
percent...  I did make it, but only with the help of an instructor who 
changed a few answers on one of my exams... when I questioned him why he 
did it, he said because he knew I "had what it took" to do the job...

I stayed for 2.5 (or so) more years... I loved the job, and loved the Air 
Force... The community they have, the friendship, the stick-togetherness... 
I had one heck of an argument with a Sociology 101 instructor when I said 
the a military base was a community... he just could not understand.

Why did I leave??? Because I was pregnant with my third child, and the Air 
Force decided when the baby was 6 weeks old, I had to go remote over sea 
for a year without the baby... no dice I said,and asked for my walking 
papers... I got out exactly one week before Rachel was born...

Would I ever do it again...  I almost did - last summer, I was this close
---> || <------ to re-entering the military as an officer, again in the Air 
Force...  I "figured", I was a single parent now, I had 6.5 years in, I 
have at least 10 years to work to support the kids, combine those 10 years 
with the 6.5, that would give me 16.5 years, at 20 years I could "retire" 
with a life time retirement check to live on, and it looked VERY good... I 
did enjoy my years in the military, and thought - why not???  Why didn't 
I... don't really know... got up one morning and decided it "just didn't 
feel right" right now.... Still it would have been nice to have the world on 
a silver platter again... house provided for you, no utilities, job 
security, medical and dental... prestige... Yeah, the mickymouse games are 
hard to put up with, but there are not as much for an officer as an 
enlisted person...

Chris... I really enjoyed your memories... Remember the our "first" night 
in basic training???

I remember the first time we got "base liberty" for two hours... our (male) 
TI told us we had better NOT come back with any funky marks on our necks...

And checking those STUPID electrical outlets... Geez, I had actually 
forgotten we "really" did that :-)... and the washing the floor with 
toothpaste and toothbrushes, to get those black heel marks off the wooden 
floor...

Our male TI was not allowed in the dorms after 11 pm, so we made full use 
of that knowledge...

We also did the underwear trick, only we had to have one dirty pair in our 
"green" laundry bag tied to the end of the bed... we only wore two pair the 
whole six weeks... the one in the laundry bag was never dirty...

Remember being a big sister to a new troop coming in three weeks after you 
had started?.. Playing Dorm Guard for them... all their questions?... Geez, 
those were the days...

I could ramble on for days about all the "funny" things, and no-so-funny 
things that happened....

If any of my daughters decided to go in.... I'd push them to say "GO for 
IT", especially if they were like me, 18, not wanting to "really" go to 
college, not sure what I wanted with my life.  The military will give you a 
not-so-decent pay, however, it will give you room and board, free 
medical/dental, 30 days vacation, and with all of that, at 18, you can live 
with the not-so-decent pay scale.  I would hope that they would go into the 
Air Force, as I am partial to that branch.  I would hope that they would 
use that time to grow up, decide what they wanted to do with their life, 
and live a little.  Mind you, if they change the ruling of woman in combat, 
I "might" change the way I think, but right now... I would be willing to 
push them in that direction.

  Last night the national news carried a story about sex discrimination
  in the military.  A government-sponsored report concluded that many of
  the 50-odd thousand women in the service had indeed been discriminated
  against (with adverse effect upon their military careers) and gave
  recommendations to correct the problem.

  Secretary of the Navy Lehman said that these recommendations would be
  followed (he didn't look happy about it).

  The only specific change mentioned was that women can now be freely
  assigned to "logistics" ships (oilers, supply ships, etc.) and this
  would no longer be constrained by Congress' no-women-in-combat rule.

  JP

    Hmmmm.  Now, I was on two such "supply ships" in 81 and 82.  They
    DID have women on these vessels.  Someone goofed somewhere.  Just
    for the record: USS Fife and the USS Samuel Gompers, 6th, westpac
    fleet out of San Diego Harbor (32nd street) and Coronado Bay, San
    Diego (substa)
    
    FWIW: While on these vessels, we did have the usual stuff, ie: cat
    calls, but they were frowned upon and delt with severely, ie: Captains
    Mast or Court Martial.  Yes there were other situations but this
    is not the place to start up another war.
                                       @L