Ironically, Comparison Can Stiffen One's Resolve

Dad while in basic training at Sheppard Field in Wichita
Falls, Texas, from late 1941 until April of 1942.

          As I anticipated the most recent winter storm, the forecast gave hope it would only last three-four days with its wintery precipitation and subfreezing temperatures. Relativity and comparison played a role in my hope. Since last February of 2021, I compare all weather to that record-breaking lengthy streak of bitterly cold temperatures.

 My father, Edmund Gates, Jr., often compared what he was experiencing with much more challenging times earlier in his life. When this came to mind, I pulled his World War II military memoirs from the shelf. In Okie Over Europe, I turned to the second chapter and began reading of his basic training at Sheppard Field north of Wichita Falls, Texas. My eyes fell on these words capturing his experiences 80 years, ago.

The only marching he did was twice a day to “chow” in step with the cadence that he heard as he marched. Sheppard Field, a new base in 1942, was quite undeveloped; this made the predawn marching from the barracks to the chow hall for breakfast difficult over the rough terrain. It went from bad to worse in rainy weather when the ground became quite slick and muddy, creating a miry challenge for Dad and the other young recruits.

Often, he saw masses of ground troops training on a separate forty acres of the base. These army recruits dressed in fatigues appeared to Dad like a huge, gray lethargic creature moving across the landscape as they marched. This was just another reason for Dad to applaud himself for choosing the relatively new army air force.

Calisthenics were required daily. Dad considered it a “snap” for a farm boy acquainted with a rigorously demanding work regimen. At home on the farm, he had worked from daylight to dark seldom taking a day off. His day had begun milking cows, working hard all day usually in the field, and climaxed the day milking the same six to eight cows. It was during basic training that Dad learned what the phrase “time off” meant. He could just relax on his bunk when not involved in training. He had not done much of that at home on the farm.

Dad had very little KP duty or kitchen police duty during his military stint. He did have one experience of being caught dousing a large basket of flatware in a sink full of water. He had assessed and decided this was the most time-efficient method of washing them. After all, with two older sisters and three younger sisters, he had no experience at home with the correct method of doing chores like this. Dad was told by the sergeant in charge of the kitchen, “Soldier, get around here and wash them one at a time. We’re in for the duration. What’s your hurry?” The only KP duty he was assigned during his entire military career was a couple of weeks while at Sheppard Field north of Wichita Falls, Texas.

It brings a smile to my face as I recall Dad being the only veteran I knew who characterized his basic training as a “vacation.” When he compared his experience on the farm, the requirements in the military paled. Often, this approach of comparing the demands of a present challenge with a past one gave him courage and strength. This week, Dad’s practice of diminishing the difficulty of a present incident by comparing it with the past memory of a much more trial-ladened occurrence stiffened my resolve during the cold weather. It certainly provided some emotional and mental comfort and strength when I practiced Dad’s method this week.

Paul wrote of comparisons in Romans 8:18. He compared sufferings to the future glory awaiting believers with these inspired words. 

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.

Here on earth, others viewing our difficulties frequently give glory to God. What more could a believer desire! May our meditation on this verse bolster our strength and courage no matter what we face.