new recruits "We're not Nazi thugs and we're not dupes of the Kremlin, either. We're free agents, educated men who understand the price you have to pay for democracy." Commander Happy Jack was giving a speech to his new recruits. He'd taken them off the street, out of the bus stations and all-night donut joints of places like Atlanta, Minneapolis, Denver. He wouldn't take anyone under fifteen. He didn't like charges that he was exploiting runaways. "Look at where they'd be if it wasn't for this operation. Here they get three good meals a day, clothes, companionship, a place to sleep. They learn how to make it on their own in rough country. They learn to take pride in their appearance. Without me they'd be junkies, car burglars, sleeping in parks with no blanket. Or they'd end up back with their parents, which is worse. Some of those parents in the poorer classes, living with them is a lot worse than the Army. Believe me, I've been there." Jack had grown up in a clapboard shack, he was quick to remind people. His dad had tried to make it as a car mechanic, but sometimes his hands trembled so much from drinking that he couldn't even change tires. Jack ran away at sixteen. He hung around garages in Des Moines until he was old enough to join the Army. His big regret was that he'd missed Vietnam by five years. When he came in, the army was demoralized and didn't know what to do with itself. After a while he got tired of waiting for action that never came, so he quit and went to Angola to look for some. He was captured and mutilated and sent back to Iowa. "At least they didn't touch my face," he said cheerfully. He'd expected recognition, interviews on the local news, a speech in his honor by the mayor of his hometown. Instead he was on the streets again, living off a disability pension. No one would hire him. He felt cheated. "The big boys used me and threw me away," he said. He vowed to help kids so they wouldn't make the same mistakes he'd made. "The Army doesn't prepare you for life in the jungle. And the whole world is a jungle. You've got to fight to survive. You've got to be stronger, faster, smarter than the next guy. The Army doesn't tell you what life is really like." He went around to his old haunts and talked to the kids. "You dropped out of high school. I know why you did it, you can't stand living at home. Who can blame you? But do you want to spend the rest of your life looking for food? In and out of jail? I've been where you are, it's no good." He knew what they wanted. Each new recruit got a portable tape player and a stack of magazines filled with "split beavers" and "heavy tongue action." "If you've got what it takes to be a soldier, I don't care if you jerk off in the shower. On your own time, of course. But if you're drunk on duty, always getting in fights, if you're lazy or just plain weak, then you don't belong here. I'm not your mom and dad."
	location: San Francisco date: November 1986 average rating: [not rated] your rating (0-10):