My Last Corps Trip

After three and a half years in the Corps of Cadets at the A&M College of Texas, I was certain I’d never wear another uniform ever again after I graduated next semester. Many of my fellow cadets were eager to join the military after graduation, but I already had a job as an engineer waiting for me in the oil fields of West Texas, not far from my hometown of Fredericksburg. With the hardest of my classes already behind me, I could concentrate on enjoying the remainder of my senior year to the fullest.

Our football team had easily won a third consecutive Southwest Conference championship, despite our sole disappointing loss to Texas on Thanksgiving Day, which had derailed a chance for another national title. All that remained of our regular season was an away game with the State College of Washington before our New Year’s Day berth at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas. I had never left the state of Texas before, so I eagerly convinced my roommate Anthony to join me and 57 other cadets making the three-day trip to the game in Tacoma, Washington.

Our train pulled up to Tacoma’s Union Station the day before the game under dreary, overcast December skies. A steady mist enveloped us as we disembarked and made our way onto the wet streets of Tacoma, looking as out of place in our cadet uniforms as fish out of water. I pulled my overcoat closer around me and followed the line of cadets to the charter bus to Fort Lewis, where we’d stay until our train departed for the three-day return trip to Texas on Sunday afternoon.

“Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Anthony said, eyeing the dismal clouds. “Or Texas either for that matter.”

“What’s that smell?” I asked, sniffing the rancid air. “It smells like rotten eggs!”

“Must be a paper mill,” Anthony noted. “We had one near my house in Houston. By the smell of things, there’s probably more than one of ‘em here.”

“What kind of uniforms are you guys wearing?” a bystander asked as we passed. “Those aren’t regulation, are they?”

“No sir, we’re cadets from Texas A&M,” Anthony answered. “We’re here for the big game against State tomorrow.”

“The Cougars have a tough team this year,” the man grinned. “It’d be a shame for you boys to come all the way from Texas to see your team lose.”

“You clearly haven’t seen the Aggies play,” I replied. “May the best team win.”

We boarded the bus and rode to our guest barracks at Fort Lewis. It was nearly dark by the time we stowed our luggage in what looked like Civil War era quarters, but we were eager to hit the town. After changing into our street clothes, Anthony and I grabbed a taxi with a couple of fellows from A Battery and headed downtown.

“So what’s this place known for?” Anthony asked the taxi driver.

“Tacoma? Other than the railroad, paper mills, and Gallopin’ Gertie: not much.”

“Gallopin’ Gertie? Who’s she?” I asked.

“She’s no dame. It was a suspension bridge that fell into the Narrows last year during a windstorm.”

“I heard about that. So, what do you recommend for a good night on the town?”

“There’s some action around Broadway Square, clubs, theaters, bars, that kind of stuff. Murphy’s Tavern on Pacific is a popular joint. You young guys will fit right in.”

I wouldn’t say we fit right in, but we still had a pretty good time. The place was full of coeds from State, which it turns out, wasn’t a local college either; it was an agricultural land-grant college like A&M, located deep in rural eastern Washington. However, they would certainly have home field advantage tomorrow. We Aggies would be a tiny minority among the thousands of spectators expected at the game.

“Lots of dames here tonight,” I said, looking around the tavern. “Anthony, we might make a new friend or two tonight, that is, if you were a free man this weekend.”

“I don’t think so, Pete. Maria and I have been together since 10th grade.”

“What’s gonna happen when you go off to the army next year? What if you end up in the Philippines or the Canal Zone? You gonna take her with you?”

“Maybe so. We’ve talked about marriage.”

I noticed a thin, pretty Asian girl giving me the eye across the smoky room. “Suit yourself, Anthony. But I’m gonna make the best of our time in Tacoma. I’m gonna say howdy to that sweetheart over there.”

Her name was Doris and she was a sophomore at State. She was a local gal, from a nearby town called Puyallup, home for the weekend’s big game. Her mother had emigrated from Japan as a young girl and settled in the area, only to upend her family’s traditional ways by eventually marrying a local rhubarb farmer. We talked and danced well into the evening, until the place closed up at midnight. She agreed to meet me after the game as her friends dragged her towards their waiting automobile. Anthony pulled me aside as well; some Aggies were starting an impromptu Yell Practice in nearby Broadway Square, so we hurriedly ran uphill to join in. Sadly, our gathering was broken up a few minutes later by a couple of police officers who were clearing the streets of drunken revelers. All that was left of the chilly evening was to hail a taxi for the ride back to our barracks.

The next day arrived under mostly clear but cool skies. We dressed in our Class A cadet uniforms and caught the bus to Tacoma Stadium, a bowl-shaped football arena carved into a hillside overlooking a narrow bay. Steam and smoke billowed from the bustling port below the stadium, and at least one large navy vessel lay at anchor among the merchant ships awaiting their turn to unload at the docks. Our team had already filed onto the playing field by the time we found our section, and the crowd went wild when the State Cougars took the field moments later. The near-capacity crowd was a mix of State coeds, soldiers from the post, a few sailors, as our contingent of Texas Aggies.

I can’t really say the game was very thrilling; other than a few close scares on the field, the most excitement came from the jeers from the coeds sitting behind our section. Anthony tried to enlighten them why Aggies stand at all of our football games, but they weren’t interested in his patient explanation. But we held our ground and the coeds eventually stood up for the game as well. It was a close contest, but our Aggies prevailed, topping the Cougars 7-0.

After the game, we met Doris and two of her friends at a nearby café. Despite having told her last night about being a cadet at an all-male military college, she was somewhat delighted, yet intrigued, by my uniform.

“Why, Pete, you didn’t tell me that you’d look so dashing in your uniform,” she said with an amused grin. “And you say you’re going to work at Humble Oil? You should reconsider a career as a military officer. You’d make a smart looking officer.”

“No, my days in uniform are numbered. There’s nothing short of a war that would convince me otherwise.”

“Aren’t you worried about the war in Europe then? They keep saying that we’ll get drawn in eventually.”

“It’s possible, but Germany wouldn’t dare to start another war with us. Look what happened to them the last time they messed with us.”

“Not worried about Japan either?” Anthony asked.

“Things may be a little strained between us and them right now, but it’s nothing a little diplomacy won’t fix. But enough talk about war. This is our last night in town, so I’d like to make it a memorable one.”

That evening in Tacoma was so eventful it was hard to remember it all the next morning, and it wasn’t from overindulging in alcohol. Doris and her friends showed us the sights: Point Defiance Park overlooking Puget Sound, the Tacoma house where Bing Crosby lived, a café shaped like a giant coffee kettle, the college hangouts near the University of Puget Sound, and the downtown nightclubs and dancehalls jammed with soldiers and coeds out for a lively Saturday night. The streets were gaily illuminated with Christmas lights and festive decorations, and an oversized Christmas tree accentuated Broadway Square like an evergreen exclamation point. It was the perfect evening and I wished it could have lasted forever.

We certainly tried to make the night last as long as possible. Even after Doris and her friends went home at midnight, Anthony and I joined several other Aggies still celebrating our football victory into the wee hours. We figured we had three days to rest up on the train ride home, so we caught a taxi for the late-night beer joints near the docks. By dawn Sunday morning, we had found a vantage point overlooking the sound and watched an early ferry head out into the sound as the sun rose over towering, snow-capped Mt. Rainier.

“This, my friends, was a helluva way to end our night,” I said as I took a swig from the bottle we were passing around.

“The party’s almost over,” one of the Aggies said. “Next week at this time, we’ll be cramming for final exams.”

“You only live once. Might as well enjoy sniffing the roses.”

“Roses? All I can smell is that damn Tacoma Aroma.” Anthony said. “We’d better be getting back soon. You gonna see Doris before we leave?”

“She said she’d meet me at the station at noon to say goodbye.”

After enjoying breakfast at a waterfront diner, we made it back to Fort Lewis with just enough time to shower and change clothes before our bus left for Union Station. As I was packing the last of my luggage, a lull in the Sunday morning music program on the radio caught my attention. After an awkward moment of silence, a hesitant announcer came onto the air.

“Sorry folks for the interruption…we’re getting reports of an attack on Pearl Harbor…”

“Pearl Harbor? Where’s that?” an Aggie interrupted before we yelled at him to quiet down.

“…details are still forthcoming…it appears that the attack is still underway. For those who have not heard of Pearl Harbor, it is the main naval base for our Pacific fleet, located in the Hawaiian Territory…”

“Who would attack Hawaii?” another Aggie asked.

“Who do you think? The Germans?” Anthony deadpanned. “It could only be the Japanese.”

“Why would they attack us?”

“I don’t know, but it looks like we’re going to war.”

I was dumbstruck. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I numbly grabbed my luggage and followed the other cadets to our bus. Silence and quiet whispering reigned during the ride to the train station as the events unfolded over the bus’s radio. It appeared that carrier aircraft of the Japanese Imperial Navy had pulled off a surprise attack of our naval forces, and we had likely suffered a terrible loss of life. In addition, it sounded like our entire Pacific fleet now lay at the bottom of a little known harbor in Hawaii. The entire West Coast now lay undefended against further Japanese attack.

Fear and subdued panic saturated the air as we arrived at Union Station. Hushed voices from the crowd whispered concerns of the whereabouts of the Japanese fleet, perhaps now heading unopposed towards the West Coast. The Aggie football team was quietly gathered near the ticket counter. Coach Norton looked up as we entered and promptly waved us over.

“I was happy to see you Aggies in the crowd yesterday. It’s always nice to see the 12th Man on the road, especially way up here in Washington. I guess you boys have heard about the Japanese attack.”

“Yes sir, we sure did,” a cadet answered. “And it sounds like they’re heading this way, so we shouldn’t waste any time getting back to Texas.”

“That’s not gonna happen today,” the coach answered. “All train service has been cancelled along the West Coast. We’ll have to stay for at least another night or two.”

I looked over and saw a visibly shaken Doris waiting urgently nearby. As the coach continued, I slipped out of the crowd of Aggies and walked over to her.

“How are you, Doris?” I asked.

“This is all so scary. I don’t know what to think. I guess it means we’ll go to war with Japan.”

“It sure looks like they’re on the warpath. I doubt we’ll take it sitting down.”

“I guess your train isn’t leaving today now.”

“Nope, I think we’re stuck here for a few days at least.”

An older man glared at Doris and said something under his breath as he passed. She timidly looked after him as he exited the station.

“Did he say what I think he said?” I asked.

“It’s nothing. I’ve been hearing little comments like that ever since the news broke about the attack.”

“But you’re an American.”

“And I’m part Japanese too.”

“That’s no reason for people to say hateful things.”

“I’m afraid it’ll get worse before it gets better.”

“Don’t worry, Doris. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I don’t know, but I’m troubled. Fear makes people do idiotic things.”

“Since we’re not leaving today, maybe I could see you later, that is, unless you’re heading back to State later.”

“No, my train won’t be leaving either. You could come out to my parent’s place for dinner if you’d like.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later. It looks like we’re heading back to the post for now.”

After saying goodbye, we filed back onto a bus and headed back to Fort Lewis. As we passed McChord Army Airfield, we noticed a couple of twin-engine army bombers taking off. They rose into the sky, neatly silhouetted against the heavy rain-swollen clouds overhead.

“Look, there’s more getting ready to take off,” a cadet said. “By golly, it looks like a whole squadron of bombers!”

“Maybe they’re going after the Japanese fleet!” an excited cadet exclaimed. A roar of approval rose from our throats.

“Those are B-18 Bolos,” Anthony observed. “I sure wouldn’t want to take on the Japanese navy in one of those relics. Those were obsolete when we were still in high school.”

“Whoa!” I said as I noticed a sleek twin-engine bomber with a twin tail rise into the air. “What the heck is that, Anthony?”

“That, my friend, is a B-25. It’s more than capable of taking on the Japanese.”

As we stopped at the front gate of the army post, soldiers were stacking sandbags in front of the guard booth. A machine gun nest had been set up on one side, covering the road leading up to the fort. Coach Norton hopped off the bus to speak with one of the MPs, who eventually allowed us to enter the installation. We soon pulled up to our barracks and reclaimed our bunks.

In the distance, a warbling tone grew in volume and soon echoed across the post. We looked at each other in confusion until one of the cadets yelled, “Air raid!” We wasted no time crawling under our bunks as the air raid siren continued its punishing assault on our ears. In was unbelievable; we had come from Texas for a football game and had seemingly ended up in a war zone. The air raid siren soon quieted and, not hearing enemy fighters or distant explosions, we crawled out of our hiding places. A cadet turned on the radio to find out what was going on and found only static. He tuned the dial in search of other stations and found the full radio spectrum strangely quiet.

After a half hour, a sergeant arrived to brief us on the curfew, in the town and on post, so we would have to be back at our barracks by 10 pm. He also asked if we would like to help with the post’s defensive preparations, which we soon found out meant filling sandbags. But we were eager to help, so we didn’t complain. Heck, if they had inducted us into the army on the spot, the majority of us probably would never have said a disparaging word. Aggies had served with distinction in our wars with Spain and Germany, so we would likely turn out en masse for what looked like war with Japan.

I still had plans to meet Doris and Anthony agreed to come along as well. Since taxis were no longer allowed on post, we had to walk several miles to reach the front gate where a line of taxis waited. It was soon dark, and I immediately noticed that there was a blackout in effect in Tacoma. We drove through strangely darkened city streets and along a river illuminated only by the thin moon racing overhead above the clouds.

“This is the closest I can place that address,” the driver said as he stopped at a service station. “Sorry, I don’t get to Puyallup much. You can ask inside if they know the place.”

I paid the driver and, after asking directions inside, we walked down a muddy road to a dimly lighted farmhouse a block off the highway. I nervously knocked on the door and soon found myself looking at a tall muscular man with blonde hair and vaguely Nordic features. Seeing my consternation, he stuck his hand out in greeting.

“You must be the fellows from Texas Doris told me about. I’m Mr. Lund, Doris’s father.”

“Pete Engel. Glad to meet you sir.”

“I’m Anthony Vega. It’s a pleasure, sir.”

Doris came down the stairs as we walked in and introduced us to the rest of her family: her mother, her brothers Jack and Walter, and her sister Margaret. The smell of supper hung heavy in the air and my stomach rumbled in response. Doris brought us drinks and we sat in the family room talking with her father and brothers while Doris helped her mother in the kitchen.

“Such dreadful news today from Hawaii,” her father said. “It looks like war may be unavoidable now.”

“I’d say that we’re in a state of war already,” Anthony replied. “We may not have a declaration of war yet, but we won’t let their surprise attack go unchallenged.”

“I suppose not. But I hoped our nations would work their differences out before it came to this…”

“Pop, they attacked us,” Doris’s brother spat. “We have to answer in kind.”

“Would you fight against your mother’s homeland, son?”

“I’m an American, pop. If America declares war, I’ll be one of the first to sign up for the army.”

“I suppose you boys will be eager to join up as well.” her father said.

“I was already heading to the army when I graduate next semester,” Anthony replied. “I would happily go sooner if I could.”

“What about you, Pete? Doris says you’re going to work for Humble Oil.”

“That’s the plan, but I don’t know anymore. If we go to war, I want to do my part.”

“No more talk about war or politics,” Doris said from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”

After dinner, Doris and I sat on the porch while the debate renewed inside. In the distance, an air raid siren faintly sounded from nearby Tacoma. Searchlights crisscrossed the sky, illuminating nothing more than the low lying clouds; however, it was probably just another false alarm generated by the fragile nerves of a people seemingly next in line to face the inevitable Japanese invasion.

“Pop says the trains are supposed to run tomorrow. So we’ll be heading our separate ways. I have exams next week and I’m sure you probably do also.”

"Unfortunately, yes. But I wouldn’t mind a few more days here.”

“You wouldn’t say that after the rains come back. It’s supposed to storm tomorrow. You’ll probably be happy to get back to Texas.”

“Everything has changed, Doris. I’m not sure I plan to go back.”

“What do you mean?” she asked with astonishment.

“I don’t think I can go back to school if my nation needs men to fight. I would if I was already going to the army, like Anthony, but I already turned down the chance at an officer’s commission last year. I want to do my part, and that may not include finishing school for now.”

“So you’d just join the army?”

“I don’t know. I have a lot of thinking to do.”

It was soon time to leave before the curfew took effect. Anthony and I said goodbye and her father drove us back into town. As we drove along the vacant riverside highway, a police officer waved us to a stop with his flashlight. Mr. Lund quickly complied and the officer walked over.

“No automobiles are allowed in Tacoma without shielded headlights per the blackout order. You’ll have to turn around.”

"These boys are cadets staying at the army post. I’ve got to get them back.”

“Not while the blackout is in effect. There are reports of enemy aircraft in the area. These boys can catch a taxi about a mile up the road.”

There was no use arguing, so we thanked Mr. Lund for the ride and started walking towards Tacoma. We still had an hour before the curfew, but if we didn’t find a taxi, we wouldn’t make it in time. We were nearly in town when it started to rain, so we picked up the pace. By the time we saw the first taxi, we were completely soaked.

“Where to, boys?” the driver asked as we climbed in.

“Fort Lewis,” I answered.

“You boys soldiers? I’m surprised you aren’t on the beach waiting for the Japanese.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t heard? The Japanese fleet is supposedly 50 miles off the coast. Our bombers are out looking for them as we speak.”

“We’ve heard lots of rumors today, everything from subs to bombers to the whole Imperial fleet. You may be right, but things may be clearer in the morning.”

The next morning, there was excitement in the air, despite the heavy downpour outside. The President was about to speak before a joint session of Congress. The radio station was back on the air and we eagerly gathered around it to hear the latest news reports before the President’s address. Hawaii had suffered a devastating blow; in addition to our naval losses, army airfields and installations were heavily damaged. One of our battleships had gone down with the loss of its entire crew – over a thousand men. Apparently, the Japanese military had been quite busy elsewhere as well; fighting had broken out in cities and scattered island outposts across the Pacific. It was a major offensive which could only be countered through American military action.

The broadcast cut to Capitol Hill as the President took to the podium; his words etching an indelible imprint on our nation. “Yesterday, December 7, 1941 – a date which will live in infamy – the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan…”

The President’s voice rose powerfully above the electronic whine and static on the radio. Cadets and football players pushed forward, surrounding the radio as the President laid down the case for war: American ships between San Francisco and Honolulu had been torpedoed and Malaya, Hong Kong, Guam, the Philippine Islands, Wake, and Midway had all felt the enemy assault.

“…The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation. As Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense…”

I felt an upwelling in my soul. I knew what I had to do.

“…Always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory…”

I looked around the room, into the intent faces of my fellow Aggies as the thunderous applause rang out on Capitol Hill.

“…I believe I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us…”

My heart was racing. I glanced at Anthony’s stoic face and his eyes met mine. I saw a spark of knowing – he knew what I was thinking.

“…Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger. With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounding determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us God…”

I knew I would never wear my cadet uniform ever again. I had gone on my last Corps trip.

“…I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.”

I would not return to Texas. I was going to war.