I'm Not A Non-Com and Won't Be One

Wednesday, October 25, 1942

My first entry in almost a month. I can’t account for that. Those things just happen. I was released from the hospital on October 17th. My jaw was operated on the 13th. I remember it well. In fact I’ll probably never forget it. I was in terrible shape the day they chopped me open having sneaked out of the hospital the night before with “Ollie” Olstad and gotten gloriously plastered. He was released from the hospital the next day and I was practically put under arrest.

I rejoined the company at our new station outside of the town of Five Mile Town at Camp Blessingborn. It wasn’t long before I was back in the old grind again. I suffered awfully at first from the long marches. I had no idea I’d softened up so.

Shortly after I arrived back I wen to see our new C.O. (we’d lost Tuma) and asked him for permission to apply for O.C.S. He questioned me for a while and then gave her permission and I made out all the necessary papers. I found out later he didn’t sign them because I wasn’t a non-com. So I’m still bucking a lot of small town bigotry and jealousy. Because I’m no non-com I can’t apply. Because I’m not one of their crowd from Owatonna, Minn. I’m not a non-com and won’t be one.