# My 1102 Days of W.W. II/Chapter 10

X. REPORTING BACK IN
Having been home in Virginia with my parents for a few days and having seen almost everyone, I took another train ride to Tampa, Florida to see my "True Love", Rose, and friends at the plant where I had worked. I returned home to spend the remainder of my leave with my family and finally reported to the Navy Yard at Washington D. C. on 8-9-45.
Within a few days I became ill with pneumonia and was sent to the sick bay (hospital). While still there I heard the news that the Japanese had surrendered (8-15-45). After getting back on my feet I was shipped by train to Camp Endicott at Davisville, R.I., and arrived there the next morning, 8-27-45.
This camp was one huge place, and at that time it was being used mostly as a make-up area for units assigned to a second round of duty. I was moved around - from one place to another but finally placed with a group of men forming a company of about 125, and on 9-4-45 scheduled to leave by train for the west coast for overseas duty again.
On the very same day we were to leave someone discovered that ten of us, including me, had not had our required physical examinations. I was placed in charge of this group to take them "top side" on the double, to have this performed and return to the train station with our gear.
I was unable to convince any of several doctors to rush us through; I had no other recourse but to go to the base commander's office (Captain someone) with my problem. Things really began to happen fast; in less than two hours we had our physicals and were at the train station ready to go.
​There we were told to stand by until they received our reports on the physicals. When these arrived three of us had not passed and I was one of them, and to this day I don't know why. I was relieved knowing that I did not have to go through that again, at least not for the present.
When I told my company commander (a second lieutenant) what I had done to have the doctors perform the physicals, immediately he became nervous and shaky at the very thought of an enlisted man going to the Captain of the base to solve his problem. (Normally, one must go through proper channels with a request of this nature.)
After eight hectic days of being pushed around, I had it pretty soft from then on. Two other Chiefs and I were put in charge of a large barrack holding about a hundred young men just out of boot camp. These were being held back for correction of some medical defect, mostly bad teeth, before being assigned to an outfit. We took turns in going down each morning at 0800 to call muster (roll call), march them up to the drill field and turn them over to some work detail. Usually our work for the day was over other than seeing that the men kept the building shipshape.
I had several requests to take other jobs on the base, but I was short of only a few "points" to be eligible for discharge, and in this case they had rather not use me. This suited me fine!
​I received word one day to report to top side personnel office. I couldn't imagine what this was all about. I was informed that my request for Warrant Officer while overseas had been approved more than three months ago and had just caught up with me. If I had accepted this commission, I would have been eligible for more than three months of back pay and uniform allowance, but I would be required to put in at least 90 days of additional training. As I was anxious to be discharged and knowing that in about a month I would have my required points by remaining where I was, I refused the promotion.
Camp Endicott was about twenty miles out of Providence, R. I., our liberty town. I could go out on leave most any night or week-end I desired. Not knowing anyone in town it was not very exciting there, but it was some place to go and was better than sitting in camp.
They had electric trolley buses (like street cars) running between the camp and town. Going to town one day the bus driver pulled over to the curb to pick up a passenger. Another bus behind us decided to go on past, forgetting that his overhead trolley pole was on the same line as ours, causing the fire to fly from the trolley line, and from our bus driver, also. He called the other bus driver names I had never heard of before.