"I'm going to join the Air Corps."
On October 26, 1942, I applied for the Army Air Corps.
In order to have my application accepted, it was necessary to get three letters of recommendation from prominent people. I did not know any prominent people. I started writing letters to members of Congress, telling them that I was determined to serve my country and that I needed their help. It took me two months to finally collect my three letters.
The next step was to make an appointment at the Federal Building in downtown Los Angeles, to take a written examination. There were approximately two hundred applicants in the room. The test, which covered logic, vocabulary, mathematics, and general knowledge, lasted four hours.
The mathematics section baffled me. Because I had changed schools so often, I had never really learned some of the basics of math. I missed most of the questions in that section and was sure I would be rejected.
Three days later, I received a notice to report for an Air Corps physical examination. To my surprise, I had passed the written test. I later learned that only thirty applicants in the group had been accepted.
I was sent to an armory uptown for my physical examination, sure that I would pass with flying colors.
When the examination was finished, the doctor asked, "Any physical problems I should know about?"
"No, sir." And as I said it, I thought about my herniated disc and I wondered if that was important. "I - "
"What?"
I knew I was on dangerous ground. "I do have a problem, sir, but it's very minor. I have a herniated disc that slips out once in a while, but - "
He was writing on my application, "herniated disc." I watched him pick up a rubber stamp with the word DISQUALIFIED in red letters.
"Wait a minute!" I said.
He looked up at me. "Yes?"
I was not going to let anything stop me. "That disc doesn't go out anymore. It's cured. I can't even remember the last time I had a problem. I only mentioned it because it was something I used to have." I didn't even know what I was saying, but I knew that if he red-stamped my application, I was through. I kept talking until finally he put the rubber stamp down. "All right. If you're sure - "
In my sincerest voice, "I'm positive, sir."
"Very well."
I was in! All that remained was the eye test, and that would be no problem.
I was sent to another office, where I was handed two index cards, each one containing the name of an optometrist who could approve my application.
"Take this card to either doctor," I was told. "When you've passed your eye examination, have him sign it. Then bring it back here."
I went back to Gracie's and told Richard how well everything was going. It looked like I was going to be in the Air Corps.
Richard was devastated that I might be leaving. "I'll be here all alone."
"Gracie will take care of you," I assured him. "And Mother and Marty will be out here soon. Anyway, the war can't last very long."
Sidney the prophet.
The following morning I went to see Dr. Fred Severn, whose name was on the first card. His reception room was crowded with men waiting to take their eye tests. I sat in his waiting room for an hour. Finally I was ushered into Dr. Severn's office.
"Be seated." He looked at the card I handed him and nodded. "A pilot, huh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, let's see if you have the twenty/twenty vision they require."
He led me into a smaller room with a large eye chart on the wall. Dr. Severn darkened the room.
"Read it from the top."
It was easy - until I got to the last two lines. I could not read a single letter. But surely getting that close was enough.
The lights came on.
The doctor was writing something on the card.
I had made it!
"Just give this to the receptionist," he said.
"Thank you, Doctor."
As I walked out the door, I looked at the card. My name was on the card and at the bottom he had written, "Physically disqualified. Defective visual acuity." Signed, "Dr. Fred Severn."
I could not believe it. I could not accept that. Nothing was going to stop me from getting into the Air Corps.
I started to walk out with the card.
The receptionist said, "Sir, may I have your card?"
I kept walking, pretending not to hear.
"Sir - "
I was out the door.
I still had one doctor left to go to. But how could I make sure that I would pass his test?
One hour later, I was in the office of my regular optometrist, Dr. Samuel Peters. I told him what had happened.
"For twenty/twenty vision," he explained, "you need to read all the lines."
"Is there any way you can help me?"
He thought for a moment. "There is."
He reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a pair of glasses with lenses that looked like glass bottle tops.
"What's that?"
"That's what's going to get you into the Air Corps."
"How?"
"Before you go in for your next eye test, wear them for a while. They will inhibit your vision so that your eyes will be straining to see, so when you walk in for the test, your vision will be better than ever."
"Great," I said. I shook his hand, thanked him, and left.
I had made an appointment with the second doctor, Dr. Edward Gale, for ten o'clock the following day.
I walked into the lobby of the building his office was in and sat down on a bench. I put on the thick glasses, and waited for them to do their magic.
Thirty minutes before my appointment, I took the glasses off and walked into Dr. Gale's reception area.