My Veteran Page

Since I started interviewing Veterans and writing their stories three years ago people have routinely asked, “When will we read your page?”, and Elliott Wolfe of SCV Veterans Collaborative has doggedly needled me for months. So, here we have it folks:

Crazy Water Hotel

My conception began several years after two Japanese mini-submarines snuck into Sydney, Australia’s harbor in 1942 and blew up various infrastructure, which prompted World War II

Mom and Dad’s Wedding, July 14, 1945. Sydney, Australia.

Allied leaders to anticipate the Japanese overrunning Australia. The decision was made to redeploy thousands of U.S. Army troops operating in the South Pacific to defend Australia.

My Dad, Troy Reynolds of Glen Rose, Texas, who was serving in the mountains of New Guinea was among those soldiers.

Meanwhile, Aussie troops were fighting Japanese forces in the Philippines, Singapore, etc., however, Japanese troops never assaulted Australia. With no combat action and the absence of young Aussie men, the inevitable happened as U.S. soldiers began fraternizing with the young Aussie lasses.

In Sydney, my Dad’s best friend, Clarence Satrang, introduced him to the love of his life, Marie Tonkin, which led to their marriage on July 14, 1945. At War’s end, Dad returned to America via troop ship and months later my Mother journeyed to San Francisco aboard a “WWII Brides Ship” pregnant with me.

My Mom at age 94, who suffers with dementia, recently astounded me by remarking, “Bill, we came to America together.” Dad’s parents had moved to Mineral Wells, Texas, hence I was born August 5, 1946.

Since Mineral Wells didn’t have a hospital,  I was born in a doctor’s office at the famous Crazy Water Hotel. Like so many other “Baby Boomers,” I am a product of War.

Living the Dream

After shuffling around West Texas for several years and my Mom yearning for her homeland, in 1955 Dad moved our family to Mom’s hometown of Pendle Hill, near Sydney where she grew up.

Manly Beach in 1956

We lived temporarily with my grandparents, where our accommodations were alien to us kids. Using the family’s outhouse, especially at night, was disconcerting.

Since my Dad was unable to earn a decent living we returned to the U.S. eighteen months later, settling in the San Fernando Valley where I grew up, graduating from Grover Cleveland High School June 19, 1964.

After high school and with Dad’s help, I promptly secured a night job at General Motors in Van Nuys and began taking day classes at Pierce College. At age eighteen I purchased my first brand new car, a pale yellow 1965 Chevelle Malibu SS. Life was purely excellent as I was earning excellent wages while continuing my education and dating an attractive girlfriend.

In April 1966, growing weary of my college curricula, I dropped out intending to resume the next semester.

Uncle Sam’s Greeting

Bill’s New ’65 Chevelle

On April 30, 1966, I was stunned to receive Uncle Sam’s letter that read: “Greetings, you are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States, and to report at Los Angeles Examining and Induction Station at 1033 S. Broadway, Los Angeles, California on May 17, 1966.” This short letter instantly turned my world upside down.

Soon, my brother took ownership of my new Chevelle and I went on leave from General Motors while bidding farewell to my family and my girlfriend. Dad drove me to LA’s induction station where I joined many other young men who nervously lined up to fill out numerous forms, while taking physical examinations and countless oral and mental exams.

At day’s end, after a grueling day we were bussed to LAX and flown to El Paso, Texas, which was our first airplane travel.

Upon landing at El Paso we promptly were bussed to Fort Bliss arriving late at night – we were thoroughly exhausted and disoriented. I’ll never forget those sergeants hollering and treating us like criminals as we couldn’t get off that bus fast enough to satisfy them. Welcome to the United States Army!

Infantry Combat Training

For the next week, we received an unseemly number of vaccinations, buzz haircuts and all sorts of brand new olive drab Army gear and fatigues. There was little to do other than marching around picking up cigarette butts and trash all the while being yelled at.

Next, we traveled to Fort Riley, Kansas, via a propeller passenger plane and another bus arriving late at night and once again and getting harassed by a group of loud-mouthed, crude sergeants. It was unnerving.

Sgt. Reynolds in Dec. 1966

However, I’m proud to report that I was one of several trainees selected as squad leader which meant I would issue assignments rather than cleaning latrines, washing windows, waxing floors, taking KP (kitchen police), etc.

At Fort Riley, we took Basic Training and then Advanced Infantry Training (AIT) followed by so-called jungle training and prisoner of war training. After six months of combat training with our fellow soldiers with whom we all became close friends, we were prepared for the rigors of Vietnam, or so we thought.

At Christmas 1966, we received a two-week leave of absence and then returned to Fort Riley prior to New Year’s day.

I’ll never forget leaving my parents and my girlfriend that day as it was one of the most gloomy days of my life. My mother worried that she would never see me again and my girlfriend vowed that she would wait for me.

– Chapter II –

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