In the 1960s, young men were facing a dire possibility of being drafted to serve in the military with the probability of going to Vietnam. Two Andrew Lewis graduates of 1961, Bill Metzler and Joe Grant Jr., were exempt at the time because of their education, but with so many troops being called up, they didn't know how long that would last.About a year after high school, Joe was going to Southern Business College and working at Sears, and Bill had just finished his first semester at Virginia Western.
Knowing that he'd probably be better off if he called Uncle Sam before Sam called him, Bill went to the Air Force recruiter to find out what possible incentives there were if they went ahead and enlisted before being called up for the draft.
"You either got drafted and did two years and got the worst jobs ... or you enlisted and got three years with a better job," Joe said.
"I did not dilly-dally around, but called Joe Grant, one of my closest friends and told him that if we enlisted together that we could spend our entire tenure of duty in the Air Force together, absent some undefined national crisis," Bill wrote in a short description of their experience. "Youth is blind."
They soon found themselves on the way to San Antonio, Texas, completely unaware that after they got off their flight and received their bunk assignments in basic training that it would be nearly 45 years before they saw or spoke to one another again.
Joe was assigned as squad leader of the 4th squad in the lower level of the basic training barracks, and Bill was upstairs in the same building. Although Joe spent 9 weeks and Bill spent 12 weeks there, the rules prevented them from being buddies once they got split up.
The exercise and drills were just as intense as anybody, veteran, soldier or avid-military-movie watcher will tell you. Even while resting, they couldn't cross their arms, lean against the wall, stick their hands in their pockets, and about 20 other orders they had to learn or face being written up.
"I understand why they call them fatigues - because I was tired as soon as I put ‘em on," said Joe, as he and Bill laughed about their nearly shared experience.
They may have seen one another briefly during a "patio break" where recruits from several squads took a short break from marching drills, but other than that, they never heard from one another until September 19, 2009.
Joe was a mechanic during his service, and he remembered the days their ground support members were "mortar magnets" in the hangars. Bill ended up working as an engineer, and both served tours in Vietnam.
After the war, Joe worked for Piedmont Airlines (not as a pilot) for 39 years, and Bill continued his career as an engineer. Meeting with the two at a coffeeshop on a sunny afternoon, no one would ever guess they hadn't seen each other in so long.
"Of course, I am thankful we are both alive to see each other again, but it would take very few words to articulate, in fact, what I think of the infamous recruitment tool called the "Buddy Plan." This tidbit of my life is in no way intended as a negative; rather a reminder of promises made and forgotten in this immense design of life and what our dedicated men and women of the armed forces did at that time and presently face today. Inherent in all of this is a moment to pause, reflect and laugh," Bill wrote.
