You Can Pay Me Now or Pay Me Later

During senior year the military recruiters came to the school to administer their “qualification” tests. I am sure one of them mentioned the scores would be used to select a “career field” if we ever joined one of the services, but either my selective hearing missed it or I ignored it. To me it was a day (or half day, can’t remember which) out of class. Besides, I had a job at the new plant, Maremont, and it paid enough that within a few months of graduation I could have a place of my own, and then I could really party. Sure, I still had to deal with the draft; every one of the guys had to in their own way, but at 17 you’re immortal, so there was no way that would be a problem. But it was. The draft lottery that summer pulled my birth date and there was little doubt I would be drafted, so I opted for joining the Air Force instead, sort of legalized draft dodging.

A few weeks into basic training we were given a chance to pick the job we would most likely be doing for the next 4 years. They led us into a room and sat us in front of a chart so big it took up an entire wall that contained all the jobs in the Air Force and the scores it took to get in them. Then they gave us the results of those test we had taken during school. You know… the tests I wasn’t all that concerned about, and the effort I had put into them was obvious. They were categorized into 4 areas: mechanical, electronic, administrative and general. I don’t remember my exact scores, but I do remember that mechanical was my highest at 35. The scores were so low that at one point one of the instructors looked over my shoulder and said, “Damn boy, you should have got better scores than that by just spelling your name right.”

Surely I could find something though, even with the scores I had. How about medical tech? Nope. The general score for it was around 80 which was light years above my score. How about drafting, after all, I had taken Industrial Arts from Mr. Caldwell. Nope. I needed a mechanical score of about 60 for that one. Okay, so how about aircraft mechanic? Nope. That needed a score around 50 in mechanical. Okay, so how about a cop? Nope. 45 in general. Drill Instructor? Nope. 45 in general too. There had to be something I could do! Visions of being sent to the Army after all were swirling around in my head. Cook! How about cook? Nope! Cook needed a general around 40. I wasn't smart enough to fry an egg for the Air Force!

So I took my highest score, 35 in mechanical, and starting at the bottom of the chart I moved up to the best sounding job I was qualified for. There, finally, I found it. Rubber Raft Repair. That had to be a great job that razor sharp mind of mine reasoned. I mean this was the Air Force, not the Navy, right? How many rubber rafts could the Air Force have? Take my word, they have a ton!

As it turned out though, the old saying is right, "God watches over kids and fools", because it really wasn’t that bad of a job. I met some great people and that job combined with upholstery so I did end up learning a trade. Something I could fall back on if I needed to after I got out. I haven't used it so far, but I can still sew pretty well.

Several years later I retook those tests and did a little better with my lowest score being an 80 in general. Had I gotten that much smarter? Nope, not really, but by that time I had a wife and small son so I was definitely more motivated.

Funny how a little kid got me to do in a few months what a host of teachers couldn't pound into my head in 12 years.