On January 3, 1970, I left Kalamazoo for Fort Huachuca. I’d graduated from Signal School in early December, spent Christmas at home, and was assigned to Huachuca to wait for further assignment.
I don’t remember the trip, properly, though I do recall arriving in Tucson after dark. The last leg of the flight was via Apache Airlines on a plane (I hope not this one) which held a handful of passengers. I imagine there were Signal School classmates on the flight, but no longer remember those details. Since we arrived at Libby Field late in the evening, long after the staff had headed home, CQ put those of us who were new to the post into an empty office on the Old Fort and told us to get comfortable; someone would come for us in the morning. We stretched out on the hardwood floor and eventually caught some sleep.
Sunrise, and we discovered the Huachuca Mountains, like an unexpected island in the plains. Never–never–have I been so astonished by the morning.
This little reminiscence was provoked, of course, by my recent foray into Tombstone Territory.