Army Vaccines 

D. E. Larsen, DVM

Basic training, Fall of 1965, Fort Ord, California.

It was week of basic training. We were beginning to look like real soldiers. Even the fat guys were getting in shape after doing a hundred pushups every day during physical training. And the three mile marches to the rifle range every day for the last two weeks, mostly on loose sand trails, had done wonders for everyone’s conditioning.

Today was vaccine day. This had also been a weekly activity. Most of the  time it meant a long march down to the medical clinic, A long line waiting for a couple of tired medics to grab each arm and blast a vaccine into your upper arm with an automatic compressed air vaccine gun. Then to step forward to the next two medics.

But today, our Drill Instructor said things would be different. The medics were coming to our barracks, right after lunch. There was no further explanation. It sounded  like a relaxing afternoon. Lunch, vaccinations, and then out to physical training. 

When the medics arrived they busied themselves getting set up. Our DI was joined with a couple of other DIs and they got us lined up. They seemed to be a little more animated than usual.

Then our DI shouted out the instructions. 

“When you get your vaccine, you will immediately run out down the hall the out the front door of the company building. At full speed, you will run around the building to the overhead ladder leading into the mess hall. After doing the ladder, you can form up on the back lawn and wait of the entire platoon to get there.”

That sounded like a snap, only one shot and a good run. Far better than a long march and four traumatic shots in the arm.

Then it started. The first guy got his shot. All the DIs were immediately on his rear, running him out of the building. We had the instructions, it seems like a like a little over done. But no big deal. 

I was at the end of the first squad, so I was number ten in the line. The shot in the left arm, with a real needle, seems like pin prick compared to the airguns. 

Then the DI barked in my ear.

“Run!” He said, pointing to the open bay door.

I ran. There was another DI out in the hall, pointing to the corner of the hall leading to the door. 

“Run!” He said, almost pushing me along.

There was another DI, at the open door to the front of the building.

“Run!” He yelled, pointing me to the far corner of the building.

I ran hard and turned the corner and came upon a must unexpected sight. The entire squad in front of me was rolling on the ground.

What the hell, I thought. Then it hit me. The vaccination site was suddenly on fire and the pain was overwhelming. Not enough to put me on the ground but it brought me to my knees. The fire subsided in a few minutes but the pain continued. I grabbed my arm and staggered to the far side of the dog pile. 

The guys continued to arrive, a couple of them didn’t make it around the corner and a DI came along and moved them around the corner.

I looked at Carlson, who had managed to join me on the far side of the mass of moaning men.

“How the hell are we going to be able to do that ladder, with this arm?” Carlson asked.

“I’m more worried about the hundred pushups that little PT instructor is going to want us to do,” I said.

The entire platoon was on the lawn before anyone else joined us. First Kern, then Vandenacre and several others. Finally, our DI showed up and joined our small group.

“Sorry to do that to you guys,” he said. “But that is the only way to get everyone through that shot without a bunch passing out. You guys are free the the afternoon, no PT today.”

“What the heel was that shot?” I asked.

“Yellow Fever,” the DI said. “It’s probably the worst one you will ever get.”

It was several days before my arm felt normal.

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