Page 150 - Anthology

“All veterans’ stories need to be told.”
Bobby L. Thornberry

I was born in August 1935, in Tyrone, Anderson County, Kentucky, a town of about 200 people. We were
right on the banks of the Kentucky River, across from Woodford County. When I was ten years old and
under, I played baseball, marbles, softball, cowboys and Indians, and I swam. I’ve been a Kentucky
Wildcat fan since 1948.

At the age of ten I went to work on the farm earning money for school clothes. On Saturday afternoon I
would go to the movies. I was a skinny little ten-year old trying to handle tobacco that was taller than me.
I was paid less than the others, but that was life.

Just before entering the service I was working in a little country grocery store making eighteen dollars a
week. The bad part was that they sold beer and I could not sell beer at my age. I had completed the
eighth grade in a two-room school house. I started high school but had to go to work to help support
family and to buy clothes. This put me behind in class. After a bad experience in school, a student
rubbed against me and brushed his pants off as if I was dirty. With that and being behind in class, I
ended up quitting school.

My early childhood was hard. My dad was a carpenter but was sick as long as I can remember and
unable to work most of the time. He tried to work, but he was just too sick. We had very little. Mom was
a licensed practical nurse and worked out of town at night. When I was sixteen, I drove her to work one
summer and would have to wait at my sister’s restaurant or at the hospital. I had to work on the farm
during the daytime. I was happy because we shared so much as a family. I have no regrets that I didn’t
have the childhood that other kids had. I would not swap my childhood with what the kids have today. I
learned a lot of values that I do not believe the kids of today are being taught.

I had four brothers and three sisters. One brother died as a baby. One brother served in the Korean War
and saw much combat. After returning home, he worked at a distillery, becoming a shipping supervisor.
Another brother worked at the same distillery and one was a truck driver. My sisters were a housewife, a
restaurant owner, and a factory worker.

One day when I was working at the country store, I started thinking that I was going nowhere, so I
decided to join the service. I enlisted in the U.S. Air Force and entered into service on February 17, 1954.
I didn’t tell my mother because I knew it would be a fight. I chose the Air Force because my dad talked
me out of joining the paratroopers. I went to Louisville for my induction exams. Although I had not
completed high school, I scored third highest out of two hundred taking the exams that day. That was on
a Monday; by Wednesday, I was in the service.

When we were in the barracks in Louisville, it was rowdy. I met a guy from Hardin county, and we went
downtown Louisville together. The next day we were hanging around when an old Master Sergeant came
by and started asking me questions. I’d answer with a “yes sir”. After two or three times of “yes sir” he
looked at me and said: “you’ll do all right”. The next day we left on a train headed to Sampson Air Force
Base in New York.

My basic training was at Sampson Air Force Base in New York. The base was on Lake Geneva and the
night before I arrived there it was thirty below zero. When I left Louisville, it was sixty-five degrees. I was
wearing a light wind breaker. It was several days before we were issued warm clothing. Basic lasted
from February 18, 1954, till May 8, 1954. Basic was tough. We never had time to get home sick. While
training, I spent most of my time in school and marched everywhere I went. I had very good instructors;
they were strict, but fair. I’ll never forget my first meal in the Air Force. It was a baked potato. I was
going through the chow line, scooting my tray along, and they were not putting anything on it. This ole
boy behind me took his potato and gave it to me. I didn’t know I was supposed to hold my tray up to get
food. So, you could say my first military meal was a “hot potato”. I learned quickly to stick that tray over
to get served.