Bringing It All Back Home by Philip F. Napoli

think about was the people telling you what to do. There were clerks, specialists, ordering you around like they were generals. I laugh about it now, but that was their job. We stayed there all day, paperwork and more paperwork. Buses, charter buses, came to the base and loaded us up. Took us to LaGuardia Airport and flew us to Fort Jackson … We were still filling out paperwork, I would say, until one in the morning. You were tired, hungry; I don’t think we really slept until the next day. Haircuts, uniforms, fatigues. Some folks were still shocked by the haircuts. In the meantime, while we’re doing all this, we had a meal or two, but then they put you out there to police the base. It was an awakening, the first day or two in the military.
    At Fort Jackson, South Carolina, Wallace was quickly recognized as someone with leadership potential and was made acting squad leader. He took responsibility for making sure everyone in his squad carried out his job; if one guy messed up, everybody suffered. In the best shape of his life, Wallace found the physical training easy. He remembers that he quickly determined that basic training was like a game, that he could learn from it, and that if he did his job as he was told, it could save his life.
    In March 1969, his basic training complete, Wallace was shipped by bus to Fort McClellan, Alabama, for Advanced Individual Training (AIT). Here he was taught navigational skills and how to use weapons. Once again, he was made acting squad leader and was asked to play reveille on a bugle every morning at the personal request of a lieutenant. One bonus of being squad leader was not having to do KP duty. However, as Wallace would prove his whole life, he has never been above doing the work he has asked others to do. Once, he took the KP duty of a soldier whose family had come for the weekend, and found it suited his sense of order. Leaders do not always have to lead from the front.
    Although Wallace does not like to speak about his experiences through the lens of race, one incident stands out for him from his AIT training. Having found the worship services at Fort McClellan unsatisfying due to their ecumenical nature, Wallace wanted to attend services at a Baptist church.
    I had a little portable radio and I picked up local stations and they were broadcasting a service from Anniston, Alabama. I recall it said, “Come to Anniston Street Baptist Church,” and they were singing and they were broadcasting a service. And it sounded good.
    So one Sunday morning he put on his uniform khakis and headed down to the church in Anniston.
    There was nobody outside, so I walked up the steps, and I remember it being a Gothic-type structure with one or two entrances. I walk up the steps, and to my surprise it was not a black Baptist church. It was a white congregation. So, of course, they were more than likely part of the Southern Baptists. Once I walked in, I almost had the sensation of saying, “Well, you don’t need to be here. You need to turn around and walk back out.” But that did not happen.
    An usher came up and escorted me all the way down, it seemed as if to the first or second pew. As I’m walking down the aisle, uniform on, it felt like my ears were burning because I didn’t want to look too much to the left or too much to the right. I felt like everybody was looking at me. I sat down and they gave me a program and I listened to the sermon. Then, after the sermon and the benediction, people came over to me and said, “Thank you for coming to our church.” And then they asked me if I would come downstairs and join them for dinner. Now, that was kind of them, but I said to myself, “If I go downstairs, there is a possibility that the base and my family may never hear from me again.”
    Despite the racial fear dominating the country, especially in the South, and despite his personal trepidation, Wallace believes he had found acceptance. While