Fifteen Credits

My school days are long since past, but I well recall the camaraderie each morning, the greeting of friends with whom we shared many secrets. Studies? I could have functioned well without them, and I was glad to see the end of them. 
A few short months later I enlisted in the Air Force. Four weeks into basic training the powers that be snatched me from there, and enrolled me in year of intense electronic school, far more intense than anything I’d experienced at home. It was difficult, very difficult, finishing up basic training four hour each morning before marching off to school. 
Somehow, I survived the endless year and went out to a permanent assignment into the real Air Force as an combat aircraft maintainer. This was were I experienced true camaraderie at its best. We lived together in a barracks, played together during off duty time, dined together in the chow hall, worked together on the flight line, and depended on each other to make every airplane airworthy within the time allotted by the powers that be.
That fellowship yielded a close friendship 1956. Even though fifteen hundred miles lay between our respective homes, our coalition lasted 52 years. Had he not passed away we would still be exchanging phone calls every holiday.