Summer 2015
Did you know that, at one time, all docs had to serve in the military?
Beginning in the 1950's, the Korean War created need for congress to pass a law whereby, upon completing medical training in their chosen specialty, young docs were offered this choice: Serve two years active duty or six years in the reserves, during which time, they could be called to serve on the spare of a moment. This law has a name: The Berry Plan.
Summer 1968
Will 'chooses' two years active duty for this reason: In 1968, active duty proves his only option, because each branch of the military has need to draft every young doc. So, in truth, Will's only personal decision points to which branch of the armed forces he'll choose as his own, and even then, the final decision will be made by the national government, depending on supply and demand, suggesting that if too many docs opt for Will's first choice, his request to serve in The Air Force may be denied. Why The Air Force? In 1969, civilians, taking flight, is still so new to society as a whole as not to be taken for granted ... There's a kind of majesty to flying that appeals to Will, whereas his mindset feels differently when he imagines foot soldiering through the heat of the tropics, surrounded by Vietcong or feeling encased within a submarine or destroyer, clearly targeted as a sitting duck, awaiting falling bombs to explode, during a surprise enemy air strike.
1968 is the year of the Tet Offensive, and surgeons, ministering to the injured, helicoptered off battlefields, are in high demand. So, when papers, confirming his tour in The Air Force, arrive, Will considers himself fortunate and breathes a sigh of relief ... which proves short lived, because Hawkeye still has no clue where in this cockamamy, war torn world, he'll be serving, several months hence, when our first child is born.
You see, Will has learned that the whole Berry Plan, allowing him to complete his year of internship and four year surgical residency before serving his country, is not available during this dire time of hand to hand combat, when surgical knowledge proves desperately needed by our armed forces, and as my husband has elected to take a surgical internship (following his fourth year of med school, when, having rotated through each medical specialty, he chose Orthopaedic surgery as his best fit), we're close to certain that he'll be sent to serve his nation, overseas, barracked in one of the medical camps, erected just behind the 'front lines' (if that even exists, because hand to hand combat is taking place every place you look in Vietnam) where the injured are airovacked (sp?) to locations of relative safety.
With bated breath, Will and I await official notice, via the mail, as to whether we'll be sent to an air base, where we'll welcome the birth of our first child feeling safely housed, together, or whether fate will play tug of war with our hearts, suggesting my moving into my parents' home, where our unborn babe and I will slip back into my twin bed while sharing my childhood bedroom with twenty year old Lauren, who, hopefully, will not mind the inclusion of a crib if Will departs for foreign shores, where we imagine him bunking in a tent with danger lurking too close for comfort, 24/7, as had been true during The Korean War for Alan Alda in MASH, sans laugh track and Hot Lips, because, the harsh realities of combat during wartime is seriously terrifying for all concerned ...
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