Being drafted during World War II was a public affair. There would be a notice in the local newspaper listing the names of those called up during the previous week. I didn't know my husband before the war, so I don't have that notice from the newspaper. But I do have my cousin Grove's notice. Answering our country's call was locally a public affair. I remember when Grove's turn came. In our small cross-roads town (four corners and one side street); it was a celebrated event.

There were always one or two small bands that could be called on to play for celebrations. The original school house was no longer used since the pretty brick two room school had been built on one of the four corners. It seemed something was going on at that old school house all the time. Official township meetings were held there, too.

That was where the going away party for my cousin was held. Every person going into the service from our area was given a send-off party. The daughter of one of my folks' friends joined up. Since she was a nurse, she received a picture and article about her in the newspaper as well. My cousin was just a farm boy. He was happy with the party.

This was a time when we all were at war. We did our part on the home front, too. Not at all like the Korean or Viet Nam conflicts. By then the country was sick of war. Those drafted didn't get the patriotic treatment those of the WWII era did, although they certainly deserved it.

At the end of WWII , the returning soldiers had to sign up for five years in the Reserves. It was part of the mustering out procedure, if they hadn't completed their tour of duty. Most didn't mind. My husband signed for the Reserves. It was not like the National Guard is now. There was no Week-end Warrior duty. It was just showing your availability to serve. You were experienced, so you would be called up first. Then the Korean Conflict reared its ugly head. It wasn't a full-fledged war, they said, just a conflict. It would be over soon. How wrong they were.

My husband had received his re-enlistment papers for the next five years in the mail. As I walked in from the mailbox, my mind was made up. Those papers went in the trash. I didn't tell my husband about them. A year or so later when the call to arms came again, some of my husband's friends that had served with him were drafted. He wondered why he wasn't called up as well. It was then I told him about receiving the papers and burning them. Not all his friends returned home. The Korean Conflict was a brutal one. To me it didn't seem fair that my husband, who had served aboard ship in the South Pacific, would have been ordered to war again.

Some will say that what I did was wrong. That would be looking back on it from almost sixty years with the Korean Conflict still not settled. I did what I thought best at the time.