The time came for me to leave. They took me to Fremont where I caught the train to Chicago where I changed trains for Miami Beach. Mary, Herb, and Gertie headed back to Los Angeles. Trains were full. I had to stand much of the way. People were very courteous, however, and would share their seats so we could all get a little rest.
It was Sunday morning when we got into the Miami railway station. I caught an air corps bus to Miami Beach for this Sunday afternoon OCS check-in. I was in luck again. At rigid attention. Focusing straight ahead. The freshman class was going through the traditional hazing by the seniors. I had heard about this on the train. A senior class man recognized me from my Hollywood days, knew my name, tugged and pulled me through the line. I was assigned to Squadron 17, based in a small four-story hotel on a side street off the main drag. Most squadrons were based in the OCS small hotels on the main Miami Beach boulevard.
My room assignment was a corner room on the first floor. One roommate was Vic Hardin, an older guy from Southgate, California, who had been appointed squadron commander. It was the start of a close friendship that would last our lifetimes. The first two months were rough and tough, but also fun. We underclassmen were off on Sunday. After the first two months it was easier and we had some free time. I made a lot of new friends.
On December 28, 1944, I was commissioned a second lieutenant in the Army Air Corps with classifications of music officer, special services and intelligence. At that time, there was only one other music officer in the Army Air Corps. Capt. Glenn Miller had received a direct commission from the president, and most of his big hit band of musicians enlisted to serve under him. They were now stationed in London.

My first assignment was Malden Missouri Air Base, a basic flight training base southwest of Cape Giarardo. I caught a shuttle flight from Miami Beach to Malden. It was a nice, Midwest small town base. I fit right in. I was assigned to special services under Capt. Moss, a former owner/operator of movie theaters in Texas who had received a direct commission. He did not know squat about the military, but was a good man and boss. We had two nice local ladies working with me who ran the base USO service center. Mary sent me my cornet/ trumpet so the first thing I did was find some musicians on base and started a little six-piece band. From that day on, my horn was always with me, even overseas. I had always wanted to learn to fly, so off the record the instructors taught me. I loved it, but no wings.
In May I was transferred as music officer/special services to the Smyrna Army Air Corps base south of Nashville. Its Number Three runway was on land that had been owned by Alexander Neely, my great grandpa Neely’s brother who settled the land back in the 1880s when Nashville was formed. In the 1880s, three Neely brothers from West Virginia migrated to Tennessee. One settled in the fort in what is now Sumner County. William Neely, the oldest, helped found the city of Nashville and settled on a farm nearby. Thomas established a lumber business on the bend of the river. The village of Neely’s Bend is still a suburb of Nashville. I expected to be at Smyrna for a good tour of duty. I took over a nice little furnished apartment near the base from another officer who had received his overseas orders. I called Mary in LA. She took a leave from her job and was able to get on a train to Nashville.
A week later I got my orders for overseas to ship out of Hampton Roads. Mary would have to go back to Los Angeles. Hampton Roads was fun, nothing to do but play ball and go into town several nights a week, awaiting orders. Just to sack out and bum around. Again luck was with me. I got a “secret” visit from a captain. My mentor, the general, was now the Air Corps chief in the China-Burma-India (CBI) theater based in Calcutta. He wanted me to join his staff to be the Army Air Corps Music Officer and in charge of all USO and other shows performing for Air Corps troops in the CBI. I would also carry an extra G2 “undercover top secret assignment.” I readily agreed and would await my orders for transfer to the Norfolk Navy Base pending a projected early June sailing from Norfolk to the CBI.
I transferred to Norfolk. It was a fun several weeks. Most every soldier and airman was destined for Europe. Not much to do but have some fun. We were free and easy, awaiting ships. Norfolk was a very relaxed station. The orders came through. I would be booked on the SS General Hodges, the biggest and fastest troop carrier ship in the Navy, which would soon be departing from Hampton Roads. It was designed to be capable of sailing without escort.
We boarded. Bright, sunny, a typical Virginia summer day. By this time in the war, loading troop ships and convoy ships was sort of “old hat”. The Nazi subs were always out there, “but if luck held, you made it.” Almost everyone thought they were going to London for later assignment. I was one of the few on the special orders who knew the Hodges was bound for India. We departed, traveling alone without escort. A few hours out to sea, the ship’s captain came on the horn:
“Attention all personnel and troops, we are not going to London but to the China-Burma-India theater. We will land in Bombay, India. That’s the way it is. Your officers will instruct and help you to trade in your woolens for new khaki uniforms. Good luck.”
There was consternation and almost a riot, but good soldiers knew orders were to be obeyed. Everything was okay. The plan was to go through the Panama Canal, stop at Pearl Harbor, Wellington, New Zealand; Sydney, Australia and then on to Bombay, India. In the first officers meeting, we were assigned troop duties on a rotating basis. The Hodges housed the troops in five holds where they would live during the voyage. They would be restricted to a strict on-deck schedule where they could lounge around on deck. The rest of the time they were sacked out in their bunks, playing cards … all the things bored GIs found to do. Several times during the voyage I drew Hold Number Five on the bottom of the ship. It was loud, rocked with all the ship’s motion in inclement weather, and scary during a Japanese submarine attack of which there were several.
I had Hold Number Five duty one night. I always had a MP on duty with a submachine gun to keep order. No nonsense. We had a sub scare alert. They (the troops under my command) went “bonkers,” had claustrophobia, were scared, and wanted to get topside. The duty officer had orders to do whatever was necessary to keep order. I got it calmed down and order restored, but it was scary. I think it was my really first personal true test of courage.
As a music officer, I made a call for musicians, girl singers, dancers etc. so I could build two shows per day. We had placed instruments, lights, amplifiers etc. on ship for just such purposes. Part of the troops could come up each show. The ship ran with no lights at night. These were long nights in the holds–the forerunner for many of them later spent in foxholes. I was invited to sit on the bridge with ship’s officers on our way through the Panama Canal I got to go ashore in Pearl Harbor, Wellington, and Sydney. In Pearl Harbor, we did our show that afternoon for the Navy guys. By now we had a good polished show. It was appreciated. We docked in Bombay. A full Air Corps military band greeted us.