THE BRIDGE OF DEATHS
by M.C.V. Egan
OVERVIEW
Follow Bill and Maggie in London 2010 as they
explore the events of August 15th 1939. When at the brink of World War II,
an English plane crashed and sunk in Danish waters. Five deaths were reported:
two Standard Oil of New Jersey employees, a German Corporate Lawyer, an English
member of Parliament, and a crew member for the airline. Bill and Maggie
find a conceivable version of the events.
PURCHASE LINKS
AUTHOR LINK
The Bridge of Deaths Facebook Page
The
story really starts in 1971, when I was 18.
At that time, United States male citizens were required to register for
the draft within five days of their 18th birthday. The reality of my life still had not hit me.
I was a senior in high school and life was comfortable.
The
next year (my 19th) I received a “random sequence number”. This placed your order of call for
induction. The process was fair. There were two large baskets, each with 365
ping pong balls. The first basket of
balls contained every calendar day of the year.
The second basket of balls was individually numbered 1-365. A ball would be drawn out of basket one (the
date) and then a ball out of basket two (your number). The first date drawn was November 5 and the
matching number was 245. That meant all
those males, in this registration, born on November 5 would be the 245 group to
be drafted. My birthdate (January 3) was
matched with the sequence number of 42.
Reality started to set in—but not much.
I was
attending Towson State College then, my freshman year. I had a tee shirt that had T.S.C. on the
chest. I gloatingly joked that it stood
for “Tough Shit Charlie”. Several weeks
after that lottery drawing, I received a letter from the Selective Service
System requiring me to report to Fort Halberd, MD for a draft physical. There was no chance of getting a deferral for
the draft. The South East Asia conflict
was going strong and sentiment was strong on both sides of the fence regarding
support.
I
passed the physical without any issues and then received my new draft card with
the classification of “1-A”. I remember
sitting on the back porch that night and asking myself: “Is this real?”
Resigned
to the fact I was to be drafted, I went to the local selective service board to
see what options I had. I came home as an enlisted in The United States Marine
Corps. Mom was upset and crying and Dad
said nothing.
