Published Monday, May 12, 2008

Youngblood talked his way into Army, despite eyesight

The Times-Herald

Homer Youngblood should have seen it coming.

He was young and strong and just months out of high school when America went to war. He had a promising job with Georgia Power. But he was also prime material for the military draft. Sure enough, he was called.

When he arrived at Atlanta's Fort McPherson for preliminary testing and a physical, Youngblood hoped the Army wouldn't notice his "problem." But an Army doctor immediately ruled him ineligible.

Youngblood had been born with extremely bad vision in one eye. But that hadn't held him back in school or kept him from doing anything else he wanted. With some help, he had even been able to talk a civilian doctor into looking the other way so he could land the job at which he was doing just fine.

But the military doctor could not be swayed. The Army needed men desperately, but Youngblood didn't qualify. He was refused and sent home.

"I was relieved at first," he says. "But that didn't last long. In those days, everybody wanted to serve; and I didn't want my friends to think I was trying to avoid my duty. And the worst part was, I knew if I had a chance I could do just fine."

Youngblood had always done fine. He was born in 1923 in the Orchard Knob community of south Fulton County. He couldn't see as well as some of his friends, but never had any trouble keeping up in the classroom or around the neighborhood, where the local boys performed daredevil maneuvers on their bicycles, imitating automotive stunt driver Lucky Teeter, who often performed at the Lakewood Fairgrounds.

Youngblood had no problem working at his uncle's grocery store or at the Atlanta Municipal Market, where he earned $1 a day (plus 25 cents for meals).

When Youngblood graduated from Fulton High School in 1940 he looked forward to joining his father at Georgia Power Company as soon as he turned 18. Until then, he took a job at Rich's department store.

It was only when he went for his Georgia Power physical that Youngblood learned his vision was a potential problem. The doctor doing company physicals said Youngblood's eyesight made him ineligible for work.

"He turned me down," Youngblood says. "I couldn't believe it."

But Youngblood's dad and coworkers weren't about to take "no" for an answer. They did some behind-the-scenes wrangling, and Youngblood was called back for another physical.

"They told me it was possible the doctor made a mistake," he says. "Sure enough, the next time I passed."

But when he was drafted, the Army doctors weren't swayed.

As more and more of his peers poured into the military, Youngblood grew dejected. He moved north hoping a change of scenery would brighten his mood. He visited an uncle in Virginia and then went to Charleston, S. C., where his eyesight was good enough to land a job at the local Navy yard. But Youngblood couldn't escape the problem that had haunted him since he was turned down for the draft.

"It was very unpleasant to be a young man walking the streets and not be in uniform at the time," Youngblood says. "People looked at you, and you knew they wondered why you weren't in the service. I had to try something else."

Youngblood returned to Atlanta and went back to Fort MacPherson, determined to talk his way into the Army. He was again turned down, but didn't walk away. He kept pleading his case to anyone who would listen.

Finally an Army officer agreed to talk to him. He said bad vision was a serious problem for a military man and asked Youngblood what kind of job he thought he was capable of doing for the Army.

"I told him I was going to be doing something," Youngblood says, "and whatever I did I could do it in the Army as well as I could anywhere else."

The officer agreed, and Youngblood was allowed to sign up.

"I don't know many people who got turned down for the draft and went back and got to enlist," he says. "But I'm glad it happened."

Youngblood was sent to basic training at Camp Crowder, Mo.. Since he had worked for Georgia Power before enlisting, the Army figured Youngblood was skilled at communications and put him in the Signal Corps. He continued to train at Camp Crowder, learning how to repair communications equipment, scrambling up and down power poles and spending days in the field setting up communications stations and stringing wire.

On his few days off, Youngblood took advantage of local recreation opportunities and often went swimming at a place called Reddings Mills. He mentioned the swimming hole in his letters home -- including letters to Martha Jackson, a young lady he had grown up with in Orchard Knob.

Homer and Martha had gone to the same church and dated in high school. They had seen each other occasionally since he joined the service. But when Martha had hinted at making the relationship more permanent, Homer kept dodging the question.

When Martha heard about Homer's swimming exploits at Reddings Mills, that changed.

"I could read between the lines," she says. "I knew something was going on, and I figured I'd better do something about it."

In early April 1945, Martha informed her parents she was going to Missouri to get married. She packed up her best pink dress, bought a new pair of white shoes and went to Joplin. Homer met her; and the two set out for Neosho, Mo., just outside Camp Crowder.

When Martha informed Homer she had matrimony on her mind, he didn't complain.

"I figured I'd run about as far as I could," he says. "And I was ready to settle down."

Martha got a marriage license and found a church and an Army chaplain to do the honors. On April 12, 1945, the two were married in Neosho.

Homer only got one night off for a honeymoon, but says he was happy about that.

"Time was definitely of the essence," he says. "We needed to get it done. In those days, there was no time to wait for anything."

The couple found out later that President Franklin Roosevelt had died on their wedding day.

Married life was good. The only problem was finding the right groceries. The neighborhood market carried what passed for basics in Missouri, but lacked a few Southern staples. Martha was astonished when she couldn't find any corn meal.

"I said how in the world am I going to make cornbread?" Martha says. "After that when they saw me, they said 'here comes that Georgia peach.' But we did fine anyway."

When the war ended in Europe, activity picked up at Camp Crowder. Word spread that members of Youngblood's unit were headed for the Pacific as replacement troops. As soon as Homer received orders to ship out, Martha went back to Georgia.

Youngblood made it as far as Sacramento, Calif. During normal processing prior to overseas deployment, an Army doctor peeked at Youngblood's eyes and said "What are you doing in the Army?" Youngblood explained what happened and said his sight hadn't been a problem at all. This time, though, the Army doctor wouldn't budge.

"He said there was no way I was going overseas," Youngblood says. "He said I'd get myself killed or somebody else. And that was that."

Youngblood was sent to a post near Seattle where he helped set up a communications post for shipment to Alaska's Aleutian Islands. Before the equipment was put to use, the Japanese surrendered and the war ended.

In early 1946, Youngblood was sent to Fort Monmouth, N. J., and assigned to a job across the Hudson River in a Manhattan office building. When he arrived, he was puzzled because the office was full of civilians doing civilian business.

Then Youngblood met his boss, an Army major who owned and operated the business and had kept it going while he was supposedly on active Army duty.

"We were really just working to run the guy's civilian business," Youngblood says. "He must have had some good connections is all I can say."

Youngblood hadn't been in New York long before he was assigned to tape record meetings of a new organization called the United Nations. The U.N. had first been proposed at a 1943 meeting of Allied leaders including Roosevelt, Stalin and Churchill. By the time the war ended, the U.N. included 50 nations, led by a Security Council dominated by the U.S., Britain, the Soviet Union, France and the Republic of China.

The U.N. had not yet built its signature headquarters on Manhattan's lower east side and was meeting at several buildings and conference rooms at a local college.

Although World War II was over, there were major differences between the Allies who had conquered Germany and Japan. Youngblood recalls recording one meeting when Soviet representative Andrei Gromyko and his delegation stormed out, a move that would become familiar as the Cold War deepened over the next three and a half decades.

"I was right there when Gromyko walked out, and nobody liked that," Youngblood says. "Even back then, they weren't looking to get along."

When Youngblood was finally discharged he returned to Georgia Power. His first job was repairing small appliances for any customer who walked in. He later moved to large appliance sales and then on to the company's engineering department, where he supervised line extensions as new suburbs began to bloom around Atlanta.

Youngblood was eventually made supervisor of Georgia Power's Airport District, which covered everything from Atlanta to Macon. He moved to Coweta County in 1980 and retired eight years later.

Youngblood says he is the only person he knows who was turned down for the draft and had to beg to be accepted as a volunteer.

"I'd have been sorry if I hadn't gone into the service," he says. "That's what you did back then. I'm one of those patriotic people who think it's good to love your country, And I'm glad I got to serve."