J. D. Salinger_ A Life - Kenneth Slawenski [27]
Salinger’s sudden switch from writer to soldier caused the first in a series of subtle rifts with Burnett. Citing his military education and ROTC service, Salinger felt it natural that he be commissioned as an officer rather than remain a private, and in June he applied for acceptance into the Officer Candidate School. To help secure a commission, Salinger requested letters of recommendation from Burnett and Valley Forge headmaster Colonel Baker. Baker’s response was enthusiastic:
I am of the opinion that he possesses all of the traits and character which will qualify him as an outstanding officer in the army. Private Salinger has a very attractive personality, is mentally keen, has above-average athletic ability, is a diligent worker and thoroughly loyal and dependable.… I believe he would be a genuine credit to the country.12
In contrast, Burnett’s recommendation was more tentative:
I have known Jerry Salinger, who has taken work under me at Columbia University, for three years, and he is a person of imagination, intelligence, and capable of quick and decisive action. He is a responsible individual and it seems he would be a credit to an officer’s rank if he sets his mind in that direction.13
If Salinger recognized the ambiguity in Burnett’s last line, he did not let on; perhaps he understood the editor’s reluctance. In the same letter in which Salinger requested support, he admitted to having stopped writing since his induction. Burnett’s halfhearted endorsement came along with a note to the effect that he had received “The Long Debut of Lois Taggett” and liked it very much. Burnett appeared to be playing a subtle game of carrots and sticks, to keep Salinger in the writers’ ring.
“Lois Taggett” was accepted for publication by Story, rescuing it from oblivion and pleasing Salinger. But Salinger had been denied enrollment by the OCS, which pleased Burnett. If Salinger blamed his editor at all for the OCS rejection, the feelings were veiled. Writing to Burnett on July 12, Salinger thanked him “for letters, acceptances, and Burnettery in general” but concluded by announcing that he had been accepted into the Army Aviation Cadets. This military advancement would require a transfer far away from New Jersey, from weekends on Park Avenue and the offices of Story Press.
Summer’s end found Salinger aboard a troop train heading into the Deep South. He switched trains in Waycross, Georgia, a thousand miles from Fort Monmouth, and traveled west, through the town of Valdosta, until he reached his final stop, the U.S. Army Air Forces base in Bainbridge, Georgia, home for the next nine months.
In many ways Bainbridge resembled Fort Monmouth. At Bainbridge, the clamor of construction was replaced by the constant noise of aircraft. Giant water towers cast long shadows over the camp. The barracks were wooden but ramshackle and roofed with sticky black tar paper. Even though the base had been built on a swamp, the air at Bainbridge was thick with dust and hot close to the point of suffocation. To escape, soldiers took their leave across the river into downtown Bainbridge, the seat of Decatur County. Downtown was a drowsy place, complete with a town square, ornate courthouse, and Confederate war monument. It even boasted a lacy gazebo. The town might have appeared quaint to those passing through, a throwback to a bygone era, but to Salinger it was exile to Saint Helena. Decades later, when asked to recall the place, he would quip, “Bainbridge wasn’t exactly Tara.”14
Salinger complained to Burnett that the base was the kind of place in which Faulkner and Caldwell “could have a literary picnic” but one that a boy from New York longed to leave.