The Crucial and Happy Years of 1944 to 1949 by Alexander A. Scarborough
The Crucial and Happy Years of 1944 to 1949
Alexander Alan Scarborough, June 2015
Author: Origins of Universal Systems (2008)
Graduation Day at the University of Georgia in Athens (June 7, 1944) occurred the day after the D-day invasion. As a science major I had been allowed to graduate via an accelerated course in three years; Japan had bombed Pearl Harbor during my first quarter at the University of Georgia (Dec. 7, 1941). During my last two quarters I served as interim President of the 1944 Senior Class – serving in place of the drafted President.
The next month (July) found me on a troop train headed to Camp Wheeler close to my hometown, Macon, for a 16-week infantry training. Being in top shape via athletics at the University of Georgia, I enjoyed it – even voluntarily going around the obstacle course twice for the fun of it.
Training was completed about the middle of November, and we had two or three weeks off before going overseas. I met and dated a beautiful girl three times. We fell in love, but agreed to be engaged until I returned to the USA.
On a cold night in early December our troop ship filled with troops. Each of us was assigned a canvas bunk bed, and we sailed away. On the morning of December 23rd, 1944 we entered Naples Bay where Mount Vesuvius was still smoking from its eruption in January – a beautiful sight. We vacated the ship, loaded onto trucks and headed to a tent camp in Italy. If I remember right each large tent held about 20 canvas bunk beds.
Every morning we lined up for roll call. The roster changed – it seems almost every few days. On name day Sagnabene was called just ahead of my name. Yes, when we met later that day we reminisced about our high school, Lanier High, where he always sat in front of me in homeroom. But he soon left for other duties.
We trained on building pontoon bridges across the Po River and learned to drive a big truck and a small Jeep. And Marilyn and I continued a busy correspondence via love letters. Mail call was always a happy time.
In the camp rifle match, I happened to win first place with my M-1 rifle. The prize was a pint of Scotch and a $25 war bond. Being a teetotaler, I sold the pint to a happy soldier, but never received the bond.
Early in August, 1945 we loaded ships to invade Japan. As we came aboard we received the Army newspaper with its headlines shouting “Atom Bomb”. That was good news; I knew the war was over – just a question of time.
Very soon after the second bomb was dropped Japan surrendered, and our ship was diverted into Boston Harbor. That was a night of full moon; we were a happy bunch of troops.
I was sent to Camp Campbell to spend out my two years. I soon took a trip to Atlanta and Macon where Marilyn and I married in a chapel. The first week in July 1946 ended my two years of service time. I left with a happy feeling that I did not kill anybody and even happier that I did not get killed.
My talent and choice for a happy career in research and problem-solving was influenced early in life by two events other than the daydreams of youth. Both happened during my two tuition-free years at Georgia Tech (1947-1949): The only A+ received at Tech was earned in a research project to be selected and accomplished individually by each student.
My idea of finding a process involving the conversion of green pine needles into a useful end product was successful. Second, in the aptitude test my highest score was in research. Both events were convincing, and the resultant lifetime of discoveries has been happy, successful and perhaps worthwhile.
In the spring of 1949, I played the shortstop position on an intramural softball team at Georgia Tech. In the first inning of the season, a low line drive was hit to my right side. Taking two quick steps and reaching down for the ball, it hit the middle finger of my right hand and dropped to the ground. Quickly picking it up, my throw was a hard liner to first base for the out. The swollen finger slowly healed by the time the championship game was played.
We won the final game by a score of 10 to 4. The tying and winning runs came in when my fake bunt caused the third baseman to charge in as the ball was hit right down the third base line for a double and two RBIs, the tying and winning runs, as it turned out.
The third baseman was Frank Zeigler, an all-SEC fullback on the Tech football team. Frank had hit a line drive home run some 12-14 feet high over my head, and the ball landed near the top of an oak tree beyond left field to give his team an early lead. The next time at bat, he hit one much higher but not as far. Running out as it went ever higher, my eyes locked on the ball that soon landed in my glove while standing in the normal position of our left fielder. The two hits were the hardest and the highest ever experienced in my short career. The joy of going undefeated the entire season and winning the championship game were memorable events.
I was happy in later years to discover the Fourth and Fifth Laws of Planetary Motion, along with the repetitive ongoing 15-stage SO-FLINE-BEC model of universal origins: a concept that exposes fallacies of the Big Bang myth, and opens the floodgates for discovering the “simple and beautiful right answers” predicted by Einstein.
Other than saving more lives (including mine) than were killed by the two atomic bombs, they also saved the long-sought answers that are proving beneficial to a definitive future for truth in science. Now at age 92 I look back fondly on these crucial and happy and productive years.