The End

On The Way to Train Station

The author vividly remembers the day we departed Corvallis. We assembled in front of our Barracks (Men's Dorm for me) with one duffle bag to carry all our belongings and then marched as smartly as we could to the Rail Road Station where, to our surprise and joy, there was a large crowd of Oregonians to see us off and wish us luck. Girl friends and some newly wed wives hugged their loved ones and cried profusely. It was like a Hollywood picture and even an old girl friend I hadn't dated for months found me out and kissed me passionately on the train steps. Apparently she didn't want to be left out of the drama.

Ray Kitchell Packing Up

As the train departed, we had much to think about. Some were bitter about the promises of promotion and education that had been broken by the Army and if they had any rank before they came to OSC, it had been taken away from them so all students would be on an equal status. Obviously, there was a range of deep personal emotions but for me, particularly knowing I was never going to make it as an engineering student, it was not demoralizing. In fact, I was pleased to be rejoining the Army (I had been a gunner in a Tank Destroyer Battalion before) and with the prospect of going overseas but was not quite prepared for the shock of reentering military life in the abrupt manner most of us did.

A small number of ASTPers were reassigned to units needing their particular specialties but most of us were destined to join infantry divisions as buck privates, far from the expectations we had when arriving in Corvallis. As the troop train lumbered along we had plenty to think about but it didn't take long before we were "shaped up" after the shock wore off. Our first destination was Camp Roberts near the California towns of Lompoc and Paso Robles (I had my basic training there in Jan-Feb 1943) where we were assigned to temporary barracks awaiting other arrivals pending transfer and shipment of some to other units but the vast majority of us were headed for the 89th Light Division which was on maneuvers with the 71st Light Division in the rugged mountains of the Hunter-Liggett Military Reservation testing/comparing the usefulness of light divisions with their prime carriers being jeeps (the 89th) or hand carts (the 71st). The War Department had finally decided that light divisions (9,000 men) had a very limited role (only the 10th Mountain was retained out of five experiments) and the remainder were being converted back to regular, i.e., heavy, infantry divisions of about 15,000 soldiers each.

Most of ex-Beavers were headed for the 89th. Within a couple of days, in the early morning we were loaded on to 2x4 trucks and began the uncomfortable journey into the mountains. Non-coms and junior officer were eagerly awaiting our arrival and made us feel most welcome, army style. The regulars slept in triangular tents but we had only our pup tents. The divisions continued their maneuvers while waiting for new orders and we marched up and down steep trails, often in the rain and mud, and it was generally a miserable time but the point is, and I was fortunate to have some of my buddies from OSC in my outfit or nearby, almost to the man we shaped up in a bonding we didn't quite realize at the time and exists to this day.

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