Army Surplus

Here's a bit of nostalgia written by classmate Sheila Tracey's brother, Kevin, from the class of '65. Perhaps some of the "guys" can relate!

Army Surplus
Written February 5th, 2011

It was the summer of 1957 as best I can remember. I was nine and Dan was thirteen. Dan was just about at the height of his career as a Boy Scout, Troop #7, and I was just entering my career as a fisherman.

Both of us loved camping. Dan had the knowledge and I was a willing student. Over time we had accumulated enough camping equipment to live in the woods, off the land. At least we thought we had. We had kerosene lamps stolen from the railroad. We had a small Coleman stove, portable, green, with a tiny propane tank. We had a cooler. We had tents, yes tents, a pup tent and a four man tent. We had ponchos. We had everything you could possibly need to live in the woods.

We spent every allowance at West's in Needham buying Army surplus equipment. West's opened in Needham in the fifties. The front of the store had clothing. The back of the store had Army surplus items. There you could buy Sterno, Deet insect repellent, mess kits, canteens, canvas belts, waterproof match holders, flashlights, sleeping bags. The list seemed endless. Over time we had accumulated all that a boy would ever need and more. We had two fold up cots made of canvas, wood and brass hinges. We had entrenching tools. We had hunting knives.

We would camp out in our back yard learning to use our equipment, building small fires. Our dog and Sheila's pet rabbit often spent the night with us. Dan would tell ghost stories. We would read our supply of comics, Boy's Life, Sport Magazine. We would heat up Chef Boyardee ravioli for our dinner toast marshmallows for dessert. In the morning we would cook eggs for breakfast using our army surplus mess kits, drinking Kool-aid out of our canteens. I loved it.

Dan had a friend back then, a borderline juvenile delinquent. His name was Charlie Hut. He lived for a period of time in our old garage. Our parents never found out. He had a DA haircut, rolled his t-shirt sleeves up and kept his pack of cigarettes in one of the sleeves. He could light a match with his fingernail or with his dungarees, two skills I never mastered. He was also a "fisherman."

The three of us went camping on the Charles river that summer. A camping trip I will never forget. We packed everything we needed -- cots, four man tent, cooler, sleeping bags and so on. We planned to "eat what we killed." I remember Dan "waterproofing" matches in the kitchen with melted paraffin and starting a small fire on the stove. We stole cans of soup, ravioli, eggs, bacon, and bread just in case from our kitchen. Our Mom got us down to the river and off we went. No parent knew where we would wind up camping or exactly how long we would be gone. The one promise we made was we would call our Mom from a pay phone in South Natick once we got situated.

We picked a camp site on the banks of the Charles River. It was located on the property of either a Catholic Seminary or retirement home -- can't remember. There was a dirt road we could follow that led to the South Natick dam and the town of South Natick. There was a general store there where we could buy cokes, comic books, a pay phone. Down the street was a restaurant that sold hamburgers and hot dogs. We set up our four man tent. We gathered firewood. We fished for our dinner. We caught nothing that first night.

When darkness fell, I was scared. If you left the tent to pee, it was pitch black out. You heard the night sounds coming from the woods, the river. I heard monsters, ghosts, vampires and worse. The next morning everything was soaking wet as ground fog had formed. You couldn't see to fish so we went to our back up plan of fried egg sandwiches.

That day we walked to South Natick and bought lunch at the restaurant. That evening I landed the largest Large Mouth Bass I would ever catch. We had our dinner. I don't remember how long we stayed there, it was at least two nights. I don't remember what happened to Charlie Hut or why he lived in our garage. I don't remember when West's stopped selling Army surplus equipment. I don't remember what happened to all our camping equipment. What I remember is two brothers and a friend camping on the Charles River. I can smell the campfire, see us cleaning our mess kits with sand, see the fog coming off the river, see that bass taking the lure as I reeled it in and how proud I felt when I showed it to my big brother and his friend. I was nine and Dan was thirteen.

--- end ---

Kevin sent in the following note in March, 2011 ...

Seems Sheila sent Army Surplus to you and you posted it. Please understand that the story is simply an un-edited "thought bubble" and I make no claims as to their veracity. I throw these bubbles down and send them to friends and family. They are what I remember, the fragments of my youth growing up in Needham. For example, the little stove did not run on propane, it ran on white gas which we bought at the Amoco station. Charlie lived in our garage at least two weeks, we would sneak food out to him and he would sneak into our house to use the bathroom, etc.

What boy growing up in Needham didn't spend his allowance at West's, Frank's Hardware, steal penny candy from the Five and Ten and so on.

I miss it

Kevin Tracey '65

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