June 22nd, 1967, my first son was born. He was conceived in the suburbs of Athens Greece, and then nurtured by his mother, my wife, Val for nearly nine months. As the day that Milton III would enter the world approached, something was taking place that would change the world; it was called the “Seven Day War” between Israel and Egypt, and then supported by several Arab countries intent on eliminating this small Jewish State from the map. Due to the war medical facilities in Greece were limited as Americans stationed in Libya were being evacuated to Athens causing limited availability for hospitalization for those like Val, who was about to give birth.
I was stationed at Elefsis, Greece, where I worked, along with a small number of American soldiers, at the Greek Air Force Facility there. The nature of my assignment was and I imagine, still classified, but there were no medical facilities either there, or at the American Air Force Base, South of Athens, that could or would facilitate dependants who required medical treatment or giving birth. So, I had to arrange for Val to catch a hop on a Med-Evac aircraft from the American Air Force Base in Greece, to an American Air Force Base, located in Turkey, where she then would be provided transportation to an American Army Hospital, located in Ankara, Turkey, where my son would eventually be born and take his first breath. I was stuck in Greece, wondering what was happening to my young wife, now in another foreign land, while I was going crazy with anticipation.
I had recently been selected as SASCOM’s soldier of the quarter, and had a three day pass unused, which I thought I would try and take advantage of, then figure out a way to get over to Ankara, to be with my wife when my son entered the world. I did have a small problem, it was called money. My Commanding Officer, Major Pascarillo, came to my rescue and not only gave me the three day pass, but extended it to an administrative leave, and arranged for me to catch a Med-Evac flight over to Turkey, then transportation to the hospital in Ankara. Wow, I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I was and it did not take long for me to grab my tooth brush, my set of “Orders” allowing me the trip, at Government expense, and make it to the Air Force Base, to catch my flight. This was on, if my failing memory is correct, around the 19th of June, 1967, three days before the big day would come. When I arrived, I went straight to the Ankara Army hospital, where I found that Val was not there, but a block away, at very nice apartment complex, where pregnant dependents were kept while waiting for the moment that labor would start.
I was not allowed to stay at the apartment complex as it was for those waiting for labor to start only, no males allowed, except for specific visiting hours. I went to the hospital to find if there was a place I could camp out at as I only had about ten dollars on me, and I did not want to spend any of it not knowing what expense would be required. The medical staff was very kind and understanding, and one of the medics escorted me to the top floor (I think it was the 9th floor) where beds were prepared for expecting husbands and fathers of the lucky ladies who were accommodated at what was nearly a luxury apartment complex, where they were provided meals and staff to care for their needs, and when the time came, get them to the hospital. It felt strange for me to be in the hospital, when Val was the one about to have the baby. Such is life, but I would not complain, I had a bed, and was allowed to eat at the hospital cafeteria. I did have a limited time to be there so I was praying for a timely birth.
The doctor advised Val and I to take long walks each day until she started labor, as the walking and exercise might ensure a delivery within the four day period we had for a window of opportunity for me to witness my son’s birth. So, there we were, Val and I walking the roads of Ankara Turkey, with military vehicles, both armored and trucks, and troops at every street corner. With the war going on in the Middle East, Turkey was on high alert and state of readiness. Val and I were unsure about what might happen but we did know that we had a child coming and would enter the world during a period of time that would be historical. I doubt that Val ever looked more beautiful than she did when she was pregnant with Milt III. She was young, beautiful and with child. What more could a young soldier like me want? I guess, only to be sure that my son was born before time for my stay ran out. Well, after a couple of days, passed, Val thought she would not be able to walk any more, as she thought she might have nearing her labor, and we wanted to be careful.
I spent most of the day and evening on the 21st with Val at the Apartment and somehow we thought it would be soon, and the time would be at hand. I checked in early at the hospital, went to the 9th floor, climbed into my bed and fell into a deep sleep, with a prayer that our child would be born before I had to head back to Athens. My prayer was answered, somewhere early in the morning, a medic was shaking my shoulder and asking me if I was Sgt Gregory, and even before he got the words out, I was dressed and he took me to the delivery room where Val was waiting. Milt III was delivered while I was in the room, taking photographs (Polaroid Land Camera) and there he was, Milton F Gregory III, coming in at seven plus pounds. I was so excited I shook harder than I ever imagined a grown man could. There we were, a proud father, and a worn out, still beautiful, but very proud mother, holding our first, very be beautiful son. The timing was perfect, but close, so close that we had only a day at the hospital and we had to make the trip back, but not before paying seven dollars and fifty cents, leaving me with two dollars and fifty cents and about forty five drachma, the Greek currency, but amounted to a couple of bucks if I recall right. The trip to the Air Force Base in Turkey was a long one and Val was a bit weak from giving birth, and we had a young baby with a huge appetite. We were soon on the Med Evac air craft, on our way back to Athens, wondering how we would get home from the Air Force Base once landed.
We got off the Med Evac air craft and found our way to the main street, where we got a cab, and gave him all the money we had, both U.S., and Greek, telling him to take us towards our house until the money ran out. That turned out to be about two and a half miles, so we walked, Val, our new son, and I, with on small bag that Val took with her to Turkey, and walked making it home just in time to our collapsing on the bed, tired, dirty from dusty roads, but very happy parents of a child who would grow up to make us as proud as any parents could be. Milt III would serve fifteen plus years in the same Army Intelligence field that I and two of my brothers did, then go on to serve in Saudi, Kuwait, and Bahrain, as a civilian contactor, in a job that we can only think about, never discuss. It was not easy, and although it only cost seven dollars and fifty cents at the hospital, he was worth every penny to us, and a whole lot more. This has been the story of our first son, Milton III, who come to us one and a half months before I would deploy to Vietnam from Athens after volunteering five time, being turned down, but with my son came my wish to serve my country with my fellow soldiers in combat.
If you wonder how this relates to “Gregory’s Two Americas” it is the America that I love, that provided a military who cared enough about me to ensure I got to be with my wife when my first son was born, during a period that would be historical and they really could have used me at the Unit, but chose to allow me to be with my wife, Val, in our historical time when a child would be born, that would give back in so many ways. Milt III is a child of my America, God bless everyone on this Christmas Eve as I document what was one of the most important few days of my life. I thank God every day for blessing us with this child, who is home from Bahrain to share Christmas and New Years with his family before returning to continue his service at whatever he is doing, Val and I know he is doing it for “Both of Gregory’s Two Americas".
