
Discharge
I was stationed in Amarillo at the end
of the war. Having 81 points (I counted them several times to be sure)
I could then be discharged. Orders were cut and many of us there were
sent in many different directions to be separated from the service. I
was shipped out to Randolph Field near San Antonio. In route I buddied
up with an old Master Sergeant who adopted me. We got off the train in
Waco where his family lived and were treated like Royalty for an over
night stay and too much good food. After a few days at Randolph, I was
called into the office of a female Lieutenant. She proceeded to tell me
I didn't have enough points to get out. I told her she didn't know what
she was talking about and asked to see my record. I saw quickly they hadn't
given me credit for submarine patrol I had been on when I was at Langley
Field, Virginia in Pathfinder Radar School. After some discussion and
calling in a Major we got it corrected and then they couldn't get me out
of there and on a bus quick enough. I always said I was born under a lucky
star and I guess I was.
I didn't go on into San Antonia with the rest of them but got off where
the base road met Highway 81 now Interstate 35 toward Austin. I had no
sooner set my bag down when I looked up the road and saw a car that I
knew coming toward me fast. It was one of my first cousins in a surplus
Ford Army Staff car. I whistled loud and he locked all four brakes and
backed up to where I was. I rode on into New Braunfels with him. I collected
travel pay into Temple, Texas, as that was where I had volunteered into
the Air Corps Dec. 7, 1942. I made money on that deal as my family had
moved to New Braunfels while I was in the Army.
 
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