We rarely welcomed an unknown face in the barracks. Strangers were always challenged. Things seemed to disappear with uninvited guests. Don’t come in, if you don’t belong! The Army perfected the concept of Neighborhood Watch. However, desperate circumstances require desperate means.
Colston was indeed desperate. He had met some girls at the base bowling ally. They agreed to a group date on the condition that Colston brought some guys. This was our first payday weekend and everyone anticipated a wild time in San Antonio. Colston had pitched his story to three full barracks. The option of a picnic versus a wild time fired blanks into most military minds.
Yet, something in this guy’s demeanor impressed me. We all had enough money for one good weekend. Yet, even if the picnic was a dud, I could always go to town the next weekend. So, I told Colston that I was in. Then we BOTH pitched his story until we mustered three more guys.
Sure enough a car load of girls waited for us in the park. Colston fired up the hotdogs; I helped while surveying the slim possibilities. His girl owned the car. Of the remaining three, only one looked interesting and one GI already had engaged her attention. Doing the math, the ratio was five guys to four girls. My backup plan was sadly a wild time by myself the next weekend.
We all sauntered over to the nearby art gallery. The museum held some impressionistic art and to the untrained eye it was a mess. Drawing closer to that preoccupied young lady of interest, I could see boredom growing by the minute. Her escort was so enamored in art appreciation, that he totally missed me asking her to walk. When she said yes, I put some quick distance between us and the remaining competition.
Her name was Jill. Our future was a stretch, because she was junior in high school and now I assumed the duties of an army man. We held two things in common; we were both 17 and our dads were Army sergeants. I would have to get her dad’s approval, and waited a few days with fear and trepidation. When the call came, I nervously arrived at her home, to be immediately escorted to the back patio for ice tea. Eventually Jill’s dad invited me to the living room. He told how impressed Jill had been. He thanked me being respectful to see her parents. Expecting the worst, what followed was a complete shock.
Jill’s dad looked me squarely in the eyes to tell me, in detail, how much he loved his only daughter. He made a commitment to trust me on my word, that I would always do right and honor his trust. In the light of a beautiful family experience, I solemnly agreed. Returning to the patio, we shared some joyful moments. We were now official; I had passed muster. It was then I realized that Jill’s mom had disappeared. “Where’s your mom Jill?” She said, “They took off to the movies about ten minutes ago!”
Saturday seemed lazy, with a barracks filled with bored men. Someone hollered for Thompson. They said somebody outside was looking for me. Then I saw the red convertible, with Colston puffed up in the front passenger seat. But my focus went to that gal in the back, pushing the door open for me. My own chest popped as I felt the stares of envy coming from the front steps, and the men hanging out the windows. For a few short weeks I held tightly to a respite of innocence.
Many a soldier advised me of my opportunities. However, they were speaking in the barracks alone and broke. I did hug, kiss and hold hands with Jill. But whenever I looked into those sweet eyes, I remembered her dad’s loving voice and his trust in me. Our relationship held it’s innocence intact.
As a father, I now see life from a far different perspective. Some of my very best times were innocent; you wish the same for your children and your children’s children. Some times I think of Jill…and the thoughts are always…good.
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