Helen P. Reid Muka

The train dropped us three recruits at Perryville, Maryland. We walked to a country store so we could call the base for transportation. The roads were deserted, and I don't remember seeing another soul in town except for the man at the general store. He explained that everyone was in church and made me feel I should either be in church or on the set of High Noon.

The time at boot camp was a memorable one that doesn't fade with the years. It consisted primarily of getting used to being told what to do and doing it; I had been a shy, quiet individual until then, so I didn't have any problems with most of the procedures. I was serious minded and knew it was an opportunity to receive an education I could not otherwise afford.

We were in World War II barracks with an open ended cubicles containing two double bunks. We hit the deck at 5 a.m., lined up to be counted, quickly made our bunks, showered, dressed and lined up again to march to chow at a precise time.

After breakfast we marched across the grinder from the barracks to the classrooms . We studied all day , subjects such as Naval History, Government, Jobs and Training. My Jobs and Training instructor was an "airdale" which affected my life for the next 25 years. As an extra curricular activity, I was on the drill team and it gave me a chance to be different. It was a special treat to be able to preform during the graduation ceremonies. We were in our classrooms when we were told that President Kennedy had been shot. He was taken to the hospital where my mother worked. We attended Chapel services for him that evening.