saddleback autobiography by saddleback autobiography

Carl and I were inducted into the Army from different areas of the country, Utah and Illinois respectively. We took basic training for replacements for either infantry or weapons company. Since we both had Reserve Officer Training Corp (ROTC) credits at UC Berkeley, we were selected as Acting Corporals. We were in charge of our respective squads during the seventeen weeks of training. During this period we both applied for OCS and passed the three oral boards of review, which were elimination steps in the selection for Officer Candidate School. From the training unit of over 120 men, four were selected for Infantry OCS, and Carl and I were honored with selection to the Engineers OCS in Baltimore. After the degrading 17-weeks of hell of basic training—the army was trying to make men out of ordinary kids—Carl and I were feeling quite proud that not only did we survive this training but we were selected for officer’s school. After basic, any additional training would be duck soup and as officer candidates we would be treated with some respect, at least that was what we thought.
We boarded an overnight express train in Florida and arrived in Virginia the next morning on our way to the site of our training. We nonchalantly got off the train with our suitcases and duffel bags and with our personal appearance in some disarray. All we had to do this day was take our possessions and walk to the camp office and sign in. We could then look the place over, our new home for seventeen weeks.
We observed a lieutenant standing near our train. We saluted not knowing that he came to greet us and to harass us. We were told to snap to attention and to get in formation of two with a “dress right dress” command. While at attention the lieutenant proceeded to abrade us for our appearance. “Don’t you know you are being trained to be officers? Why didn’t you dress with more care? By the way who is in charge?” Carl and I didn’t know that one of us outranked the other. We never thought of rank among privates. Puzzled I said, “Sir, we’re privates.” “I could see that. It’s damn obvious.” Carl was quick enough to figure it out and asked me when I was inducted. “January 9th,” I said. Carl then said, “Sir, I am in charge.” He was inducted on January 4th. The Lieutenant was all over Carl. Did he get it! After all, technically he was in charge of me and hence responsible for the way I looked and acted…. The lieutenant told us to pick up our duffel bags and suitcases. He then double-timed us about a half a mile to the Orderly Room (Camp office) in step and counting cadence. We reported in, standing in a line of candidates at attention waiting to be checked in and assigned a barrack. We were programmed for the rest of the day.
That evening after lights out, when we finally were able to talk informally to each other, we commiserated over our sudden misfortune. This was not at all what we had expected, to be verbally flogged and physically stressed for the smallest inconsequential act. After all, weren’t we being trained to be officers? Shouldn’t we be treated with some respect? We confessed to each other that if we had known what was in store for us, we wouldn’t have come.
Early next morning, our first morning of the training class, we were in company formation. They called me out of the ranks of 100 new candidates. I was told to drill the candidates in close order drill. I was picked out to do this chore right out of the shoot at our first company assembly. To say I felt panicky is to put it mildly.
Left face! Forward Harch! "hut hoop hip hore" (1,2,3,4) To the rear Harch! By the right flank Harch! By the left flank Harch! Company halt! Le-eft face! Four steps forward, Harch! Dress right dress! Ready front!—and we were back where we started. It was about all I could do since the space we were in was restricting, making close order drill with such a large group difficult. I guess I was loud enough and sounded military enough to have passed. My high school marching band skills came into play. I knew how to time the movements. I was not called down for my performance nor was I told that I did the commands acceptably. I learned later that no call-down meant I had executed this first task satisfactorily…I often wondered if they were trying to eliminate me and make an example out of me to impress the candidates that they meant business. They did something similar to two other candidates in the first weeks and they were soon gone.
Personal cruelty, emotional and physical, handed out by the “Tac” officers at OCS in an attempt to break us was a horrendous experience. Basic training for an ordinary civilian was tough enough. The attitude we learned in basic, however, to surround ourselves with a shield to protect our sanity was just the right thing to endure OCS. We were not threatened with a possibility of death if we did not succeed in a particular task. Only our pride was at stake because the dressing down that one received was mentally painful. This was quite a serious challenge. I suppose for anyone to get washed out of a unit would be demeaning. For a Nisei, who had endured a degrading period in his life (incarceration), and had received the honor of being invited to Officer Candidate School, to be dismissed would have been devastating. In the Nisei's case this could mentally cripple him for life.
As I remember, I was gigged for the first five weekends of training for the total weekend doing “K P” (Kitchen Patrol-basically cook’s helpers) and latrine duty. Carl got it for one weekend more than I. Since we had classes on Saturday mornings, weekends lasted from Saturday noon until Sunday night. That meant no passes to leave the camp to relax at a U.S.O. in the neighboring community. We didn’t know that this was standard procedure to deprive the new candidates for a month or so of free weekends to see if we were the correct candidates for obedience training.
About the 14th week with graduation three weeks off our class was down 35% due to training attrition. Carl and I were told that while we passed all tests to that point, we might not get our commission. We were being trained for the 442nd Regiment (a segregated Nisei unit in Europe) but the war in Europe had ended. They were beginning to think about sending the 442nd home. What were they going to do with two lieutenants of Japanese extraction?
On the 15th week the final seventeen people were washed out resulting in a 50% total attrition. It must have been devastating to these seventeen after they were so close to completing the course successfully. Part of the reason may have been that the wars were over and they didn’t need as many officers. Or it could have been the standard goal at OCS of 50% washout.
As for Carl and I, during the 16th week of our training we were told that if we agreed to transfer to the Military Intelligence branch of the Army, we could get our commission. They had learned upon further investigation that they needed Nisei officers for occupation duty in Japan in the Counter Intelligence Corp. The war had ended in Japan about the 10th week of our training. Of course, Carl and I were elated and we accepted.
To survive the seventeen weeks of physical and mental abuse and to be given a commission at its conclusion was a feeling that comes rarely in one’s life. It was an extremely emotional high for a youth. It taught me that I am capable of withstanding a great deal of stress and still remain functional. This understanding of myself served me well in my career. I also believe that getting my U.S. Army commission had the most impact on my professional life. It turns out that seventeen weeks of abuse and persecution was well worth it compared to all the benefits gained for years to come for having been an officer in the service.

Footnote: After service Carl Tamaki eventually obtained a job by ranking second in a competitive engineering exam at Los Angeles Power and Lighting. He was employed there for over 35 years and served for many years as the Chief Engineer and then as second in charge, the person who really ran the company. These were the years of fantastic growth in electric power needs in Los Angeles. Finally just before his retirement he reluctantly agreed to temporarily head the company. The top job is a public relations job and he preferred the management of the company.…… Carl is no longer living.