Part 13

My mistrust of the Oxnard draft board soon proved accurate. I received a letter headed "Greetings" that advised me to report to my nearest draft board for a physical exam preparatory to induction in the Armed Services of The United States of America.

The notice came before I had time to look for a job. I was disturbed, distressed, and angry, yet once the notice came I was also resigned - even though I was confidant that I'd make a miserable soldier. Several days passed before I was to report for a physical exam. I used that time looking into ways to avoid military service, however not one of these proved honest enough for my taste, so I put them out of mind.

A week later I exercised my choice to enlist instead of being drafted, and chose Machinist's Mate with the Navy as what I'd sign up for. I reported to the Navy recruitment office for exams, and after the written portion of the exam was complete I waited my turn to be called for oral questioning.

My name was called and I went into an office where an Officer said, "I see you've noted a proficiency in flying airplanes. Why waste this skill? We need pilots badly in the Air Transport Command to ferry ships where they are needed. You will have to take six months of schooling and be checked out in the various types of aircraft you would be flying. Would you be interested?" My immediate response was "Yes, I would." "O.K. then," the Officer said. "Be here a week from today at this same time. Goodbye until then."

I left his office somewhat relieved. Nevertheless a nagging feeling that fate was still toying with me as far as a flying career was concerned was tough to shake off. While walking down the hallway away from the Navy recruiting office I suddenly recalled the man Henry had asked me to make contact with in Phoenix. I checked the card in my wallet just to make sure, because I thought the building I was in might be the same building where Henry's friend worked.

Indeed the building was the same, and I figured now was as good a time as any to stop by, if for no other reason than to introduce myself and pass along Henry's regards. Upon locating the suite I read the name "Western Farm Management Co." emblazoned on the door.

On entering the office I asked for the fellow Henry had referred me to, only to be informed by the receptionist that Henry's friend no longer worked for Western Farm Management Co. Then she asked if there might be anyone else I'd like to talk with. On an impulse I said, "Yes, I'd like to talk with someone about employment in your organization."

A few minutes later I was introduced to Mr. Everett Barkley, the man in charge of farming programs on various properties the company managed for out of state and out of country owners. We talked a long time, well over an hour, and I learned he desperately needed experienced help. He offered to hire me on the spot, and put forward a much better opportunity than the Navy ever could have.

Mr. Barkley said that if I agreed to work for him he would immediately arrange for a reinstatement of my agricultural worker deferment status. I said yes, confidant that I could best serve my country by managing the production of crops here at home. Anyone could quickly learn to fly an airplane, but it took years to make a good farmer, and they were a lot scarcer right now than air jockeys. Two hours later things had been fully arranged, and soon I was on my way to the Snyder Ranch in Yuma County to get a behind schedule farming operation back on track.

Working from dawn until dark every day to get the needed work done and the ranch operating as it should, it was not until the first night when I came back home about a month later that I found I had a bleeding ulcer. I'd been pushing way too hard, well beyond any reasonable limits, for a long time, all while eating improperly. A good diet and some overdue rest soon had me well again.