When I was drafted I had to report to an armory and there were all kinds of soldiers and the armory was right on the train tracks that went to California. And we got out and we were put on the train and all the windows were blacked out and when we got to Camp Roberts—oh it was March, I told you, and the wind was coming off of Lake Michigan—cold, snow, and ice—and it was just a miserable winter. We got on the train and when we reached California, they told us to get off and here everything was green and beautiful and there were birds; meadow, Larks, and all kinds of birds singing—so different from the wintery Chicago—it was a shock actually. And when I saw that I said I'm not coming back to Chicago to live. I became a Californian right then.