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Pentagon is not my fondest memory



As a contributing writer for The Mountain Eagle, I’ve had the opportunity to find many cousins I never knew I had.

I write and talk to many new friends since I retired from the military. Some of these folks never knew anyone who had been assigned to the Pentagon before. They want to know about my job there.

I was always told that being assigned to the Pentagon was like being accepted to the Non-commissioned Officers Academy; only the top 5 percent of military personnel are approved to be there.

I’ve been to both.

Near the end of the Vietnam War, I worked the swing shift in one large wing with civilians and military men and women with top secret clearance. I was assigned this shift as it had the largest workload.

I was the only one from my department that was allowed to go anywhere in the Pentagon.

After 5 p.m. no repairmen could enter the Pentagon to work on any printing equipment, so I was called on to repair a printing press or a copy machine that was malfunctioning in any office. This extra work kept me away from my department for long periods of time.

Every Friday morning at 7 a.m., I had to be at the Pentagon for a meeting with all my NCOs and officers for whatever time it lasted.

My working the night before, trying to get a few hours of sleep, then driving the 50-mile round trip to work, and getting many phone calls from the Pentagon at home caused this old boy to be worn out.

I put in for my retirement and was out in 90 days.

Contributing writer Everett Vanover lives in Fairfield, Calif.



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