You’re in the Army Now! In 1958, after leaving Ohio University—actually I was asked to leave due to poor grades—I enlisted in the Army for a three year hitch, which was a better alternative than living with this disappointment and the wrath of my father. But my fears were alleviated, as before I left all was forgiven and everyone thought military service was a good idea. There are two memories of the early days of my time in the service which are indelibly impressed in my mind: one comical, and one sad, but both rooted in cultural misunderstanding. After basic training, I was sent to Fort Sam Houston, Texas for X-Ray technician training. Upon my arrival, I immediately wanted to call home to let my parents know I had arrived safe and sound. Money was short, so I made the call collect (I still remember my mother’s phone number: Riverside 71810). The call resulted in the following short conversation between the operator and my mother: Operator: I have a collect call from Marco for anyone at this number. Mama: Marco no home, Marco ina Texa. Followed by an abrupt hang-up on the homefront! I asked the operator to please try again, which she did, and which garnered the same response: Marco no home, Marco ina Texa. Followed by another hang-up. I asked the operator to please try again, and if possible to let my mother hear my voice. The operator didn’t think she could do that, but agreed to try again. As soon as Mama answered the phone, I began speaking over the operator’s voice, and Mama heard me. She only said “okay” to the operator, and immediately began telling me that someone
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