Any normal person would've become resigned to the fact that they were pursuing a pipe dream. Not this girl. I was approaching my teen years and we were moving back to San Antonio, where Fort Sam Houston was within spitting distance of our home. I would finally see WACs in action.
When not in school, I spent every chance I could get out at Fort Sam mingling, talking, observing, and befriending soldiers. Even on an Army base it was hard to make contact with a WAC. But that didn't matter because I was learning more and more about the Army. Each new thing learned only reinforced my resolve to join.
As one enters high school in Texas, its school system begins tracking students toward their future. In spite of my declaration that I would join the Army, I was counseled time and again that the military is a dead end for women. It would be a waste of my brains and talent, I was told. College was the path to which I was directed. I still wasn't being taken seriously.
During these same years the war in Viet Nam was reaching its peak. I watched with envy. I resented my inability to join right now as my friends in the Army were shipped off and school chums were drafted. I wanted to be with them and contribute.
The final blow that cemented my resolve to join came when my brother went to enlist but was disqualified for medical reasons. This meant the end of a family tradition. I couldn't accept that when I was willing and able to serve.
By the time I reached my senior year, I received support from only one sector — my father. To appease my mother and the school, I went through the motions of appearing to apply for colleges and musical conservatories. For giggles, the only applications I mailed were to the conservatories.
I was accepted at both Eastman and Julliard, but I knew there was no way my parents could afford to send me. With my mother's blessing, I declined acceptance. It wasn't until it was too late to apply that she realized I had not applied to any colleges. To say she was furious would be an understatement. You'd think with all my manipulations, my mother would cave and consent for me to enlist. Not my mother.
To let the smoke clear a bit, Dad arranged for me to live with my sister in Chicago immediately following graduation. There I became a nanny to my niece, but I refused to get a job because I was going to join the Army.
