For my fourth year at Penn State I moved off campus to a townhouse at Southgate with three roommates. While I started off the first term with high hopes and a strong incentive to work harder, it didn’t last, and when the term ended, my average had fallen low enough that I was terminated.

I scrambled to try to get readmitted and get the student deferment back by taking a correspondence course, but my heart just wasn’t in it anymore.

Eventually I received my induction notice with instructions on when to report for my physical.

Given all the things that I’ve managed to save over the years, I’m surprised that I haven’t saved that notice, but perhaps I shouldn’t be.

In any case I had some time, I don’t really remember how long it was, but certainly it was a few weeks before I had to report for the physical, so I had time to explore my options.

One option was my weight.

I had always been thin, and now I discovered that I was only about seven pounds (if I recall correctly) above the minimum weight for my height. Could I lose those pounds before the day of the physical?

I could sure give it the old college try.

If you’ve ever tried to lose weight, you know how hard it is. If you’ve ever gone around without eating, you know it can cause headaches. I basically had a continuous headache from then until the day of the physical. I think I lived on water, vitamins, and aspirin.

And I managed to lose the weight. On the day of the physical I was a couple pounds below the minimum weight.

By the way, according to his biographer, Oscar Hammerstein II was rejected for army service for the First World War, you know, The Great War, because he was underweight. Just thought I’d mention that.

But I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to lose that weight, and I also wasn’t sure if it would disqualify me if I did, as I knew that the Army was really bending the rules in many cases to qualify young men.

So Carl, one of my roommates, and I went to a local counseling service to see what other options might be available for me. Sadly, the counselor wasn’t too optimistic about my prospects. About the best thing he could suggest for me, which he admitted was a crummy one, was to flee to Canada.

For many reasons, I rejected that one out of hand.

When Carl and I left that counselor, I was more depressed than ever.

But time marches on, and the day I was dreading arrived.

It was to hold some truly unexpected surprises.