"Well, you see that applies in the general case but if I were to go in it would be to work against the war and to encourage deserters, so I believe the ranks would be the best place for that. Don't you agree?"

"Huh?"

Our conversation continued in that tenor as I proceeded to question him about Vietnam, about which he knew incredibly little. Finally he sent me back to my testing. I protested that I was still feeling very badly and was sure that I couldn't finish the tests.

Sure enough, I could only complete 20 of 110 on the speed tests. But to my credit they were all correct. As we walked down to the second floor's commander I began to suspect that my effort didn't impress Captain Johnston. The second floor commander was more cheerful but then he had a window open.

I assured him that I was performing to the best of my ability under heavy mental and physical strain. He doubted my veracity and said I was to receive one more chance.

This time I got an individual test administrator and a private cubicle. I finished the tests as well as I could. After the ordeal I rejoined my original group for lunch. The Army careteria had all the rich atmosphere of a foxhole. The food was one grade below Central Kitchen's. The hot dogs and beans added a zesty tang to the ketchup. The bread had the buoyancy of a frisbee.

Surprise

After the meal we returned for our physical examinations. In preparation for the occasion I had written several negative remarks about the Army on my T-shirt as well as the phone number of the Boston Draft Resistance Group. To my surprise I was ordered to remove my T-shirt; to their surprise there was even more subversive literature written on my back.

Fearing that my fellow travelers were being indoctrinated, they gave me a bathrobe which I was encouraged to wear throughout the ceremony. Things built up to the climax slowly but surely. By the last station I was being examined alone. The doctor called me in. He marvelled at my history of infirmity and disease. He grimaced a bit at my answer to the question on my state of health. I had admitted there that "I have had very poor health since the war in Vietnam started. I am often extremely depressed and feel powerless."

The examination continued as he banged this and felt that. He came finally to my knee which was operated on four years ago and hasn't been the same since.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Right there."

"Here--does this hurt?"