A.W.O.L.

I was stationed at Amarillo Air Base in the summer of 1945. I was an instructor in engine operations among other things and worked mostly at night. Doug Sweeton and I decided to go to town one Friday after we had waked up from our daily sleep. All we had was a Class A Pass which was good for overnight in town if we had a hotel room after curfew at 2 AM. For some reason or other we left the camp out the south gate rather than the north gate as we usually did. The air base was in the fork of two highways going east into Oklahoma. When we stood for a few minutes without catching a ride into town, Doug said, "My Mother is in a hospital in Knoxville, Tennesee." which was not very far from his home town which I can't remember the name of now. I said, "If you are going to bring your car back, I'll go and help you drive." he had a 1936 Ford convertable at home and we could use the transportation. We crossed the highway and put our thumbs in the air to the east instead of west into Amarillo. It wasn't long 'till we were cruising east toward the Red River and Oklahoma. Night found us spending the night on a park bench somewhere in Oklahoma. Oklahoma at that time had some of the worst roads in the U.S. We rode cars, the back of trucks and even a wagon to get out of that state and into Fort Smith, Arkansas. Without much ado we got into Doug's home town which was a railroad town in the hills of Tennessee. When we got there, we were dirty, in need of food and a bath. Doug's little sister went to a local dime store and bought us some clean underwear. She bought boys sizes so we squeezed into them and told her how much we appreciated them though they were so tight that we could hardly wiggle. Doug got his car and we went on into Knoxville to see his mother. She was much better so after spending the night, we started back to our base in Amarillo. Everything was going just fine till we got back into western Oklahoma where we threw a piston in that car and had to leave it by the side of the road. We hiked into Sayre, Oklahoma and found the local Military Police. We told them that we were AWOL, what had happened and asked them to send us back to our base. They said, "We don't want you, just get back the best way that you can." We couldn't even get arrested. We then hit the road and hitchhiked back to camp and entered the camp as if nothing had happened or we had never been gone. The next day we got a call to report to the Company Commander who was a Major. I reported and stood at rigid attention before him. He stated, "Sgt. Belk, You have been reported AWOL for three days." To which I answered, "No, Sir! I was gone five days, Sir!" He then asked, "Where in the h--- have you been?" I then told him the whole story, the trip, the visit to Doug's mother, the break down, and the trip back to camp. He then said, "I've got to punish you, so go see the supply Sgt. and work there for five days." When we did this, the supply Sgt. told Doug and me to sign in and get out of his sight. He didn't have anything for us to do and didn't even want to look at us. We took our punishment by staying five days in Amarillo and having ourselves a time. We did later go back after Doug's car and repaired it. We used that car till we shipped out for discharge that summer. Doug went his way and I never heard of him again. I went to Randolf Field in San Antonia and was discharged from the service there after nearly three years, but that too is another story.
lb