One day in 1984 I, being a typical very awkward freshman in high school, walked into my World History class and sat down. This would have been fine in and of itself, but prior to walking in I had been talking with one of my classmates who happened to also sit behind me in class. I liked her and like many awkward teenage boys, I wanted to continue said conversation. I was, of course, totally oblivious to the possibility that she actually liked me as well–in spite of the fact that she was willing to continue talking to me, which should have been a clue but wasn’t. Such are the lives of awkward high school freshmen. Note for girls in school–if you like a boy, you will probably have to hit him over the head with 2×4 and drag him away, figuratively speaking of course…we are clueless oafs in such matters and in many ways this will not change with age. Sorry. That’s just how it is.
Anyway, we continued our conversation as others filed into class and sat down. This conversation was abruptly brought to a halt by the sound of the teacher, Mrs Few…..”Robert! …since you seem to know all about today’s lesson, why don’t you come up here and explain to the class all of the items on the board and when you get to one you can’t explain you can sit back down and pay attention to what I have to say!”
Now teachers, take note– this IS a good tactic. Very intimidating, and almost sure to get a student in line. BUT….you must also have a pretty good idea about your student before attempting this. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred it will have the intended effect almost instantaneously. …but not always. What was on the board to discuss that day was World War Two. What poor Mrs Few did not know about me was that WWII and that entire period was not only an interest of mine but somewhat of a passion. She was also woefully unaware that for me, WWII was not something from a book or an old black and white movie or an old radio program, WWII was very much real and in spite of chronological spans of time it was, for me, very recent.
Part of the reason for this is the fact that my father and I would regularly take trips to a salvage company that used to be on Old Spanish Trail in Houston….aside from military surplus there was a lot of large engines, generators, etc that spanned the decades and this was always an interest to me. My mother introduced me to listening to old radio shows from the 1930-1950 era and I still enjoy these today. In addition my uncle (who was also a history teacher at another school) had a friend who owned an army-navy surplus store. This was back in the days when army-navy stores had really cool stuff in them! Not just boots and uniforms and helmets. These places had all varieties of amazing parts, tools, and equipment. Lamps, radio gear, airplane parts, gas masks, tools for checking the bore of Howitzers, tents, pack stoves, guns and grenades….you name it, it was in there someplace! During one visit I even found a REAL submarine TORPEDO outside on a trailer!! It is a true testament to the industrial capacity that this country used to possess that nearly 40 years after the conflict ended I could still find unused items in their original packaging.
It was, however, not just the regular stops at the surplus stores to lighten my wallet and provide parts and stuff to tinker with. There were the “War Stories” told in the back room. That’s right, the mystical back room of the store where the shop owner and his friends sat around smoking their pipes and cigars, drinking whiskey, and telling war stories. Often these weren’t stories of combat but just the week’s events as told among friends….with a few dirty jokes thrown in for good measure. The thing was…as I wandered around the shop exploring bins of machine gun parts, medals and insignia, pilot’s goggles and radios; I would sometimes stumble across an unfamiliar object and bring it to the back to ask the owner and his friends, “What’s this?” And they would tell me. In amazing detail. What it was. Why it was made. How it was used. Where it was used. Etc. Etc. Sometimes they’d throw in a first or second hand account of some event that took place during the war in which this otherwise mundane looking item out of a bin had saved the day, or at least lessened the pain of battle for someone. These stories and that period are still very much real for me.
Mrs Few was, of course, completely unaware of my unique education in this topic. She had no idea that from the age of about 6 onward I had been making pilgrimages to surplus and salvage stores with more regularity than most kids attended Sunday school. So, when tasked with, “Robert! …since you seem to know all about today’s lesson, why don’t you come up here and explain to the class all of the items on the board and when you get to one you can’t explain you can sit back down and pay attention to what I have to say!” I naturally (and naively) took her up on the request and proceeded to explain everything she had on the board for that day’s lesson about part of WWII. I not only defined terms, I gave examples and specifications, explaining the significance as I went along–even retelling some of the war stories I had been told as a kid. Clearly this was not what Mrs Few had in mind. I was, not surprisingly, invited to stay after class to explain myself. Even so, while the necessities of keeping unruly students in line prevented any expression of it, I suspect she was at least slightly impressed at the details I was able to offer on the subject and this no doubt lessened the pain of battle over my unruliness that day.
And as for the girl I was talking to at the beginning of class?….well…maybe she was impressed too. Although I’d never have known it, being oblivious to such things as most awkward high school freshmen are.