I first tried to enlist in the Army Air Corps at Randolph Air Force Base in Universal City, northeast of San Antonio, in late 1940. Randolph Field was a training base for pilots, so it seemed like the best place to go to enlist. When I got there I found out they were only accepting guys applying to be Mechanics or Medical personnel. Because I only wanted to be a pilot I decided not to enlist.
Two weeks later I reconsidered. I knew enough about fixing machinery that I decided to go back to Randolph and enlist as a mechanic. At least I’d learn how to fix airplanes and I thought that might be a good thing for a pilot to know. When I got there they didn’t need mechanics anymore. I still didn’t want to be a Medic, so again I didn’t enlist. The cotton season was over and jobs were hard to come by. I hitch-hiked to a small Texas town, Girvin, which was about 300 miles northwest of San Antonio. It was a couple of miles west of the Pecos river, where my oldest brother ran a nearby cattle ranch. I spent the winter as a cowboy helping him out on the ranch.
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