How Arnold Schwarzenegger served in the army

In 1965, Arnold Schwarzenegger was drafted into the Austrian army at the age of 18. According to Arnie's own recollections, he aspired to join the army himself — just to leave his parents' house. Schwarzenegger was assigned to serve in a tank division. It was there that he gained knowledge about the basics of mechanics and, in addition to the tank, learned how to drive a motorcycle, a car and a truck, and even a tractor with a trailer.

Here's how the former Terminator General of California himself remembers his service.

One day I went awol, drove to Stuttgart and won the title of the Young athlete of Europe with the best physique in 1965. Unfortunately, when I returned to the training camp, I was sent to the guardhouse, and I spent the whole day in the cell. Then news of my victory reached the authorities, and I was released.

I carefully performed all the maneuvers, but various troubles happened to me. It happened that the drivers-mechanics had to stay overnight with their tanks. We dug a shallow hole in the ground, put a blanket in it, and drove a tank on top. This was done in order to protect themselves from wild boars.

One morning I started the engine, adjusted the seat and felt that the tank was shaking a little. I thought: "Probably, we need to add gas to make it work more steadily." So I accelerated, but the shaking only intensified. Then I noticed that dust was swirling in the air. Leaning out of the hatch, I found that instead of just warming up the engine, I turned on the gear, and the tank ran into the wall of the hangar. Then some pipe burst, water splashed in all directions, and the smell of gasoline.

I knocked on his door and said:

"Sir, I think I messed up a bit.

He was still in a great mood:

— Don't worry about it! What is it, Arnold?

"Well, you'd better take a look for yourself.

He replied:

— Come on.

As we walked, he slapped me on the back, still in a great mood, as if to let me know: "You're doing well."

Then he saw the gushing water, guys running around, and a tank in the breach of the wall. His attitude towards me changed at that moment: he yelled, called me all sorts of things, mentioned that he was going to call my father and tell him about the same thing that he mentioned earlier, but exactly the opposite. The veins in his neck were even swollen. Then he cooled down and said sharply: "When I come back from lunch, everything should be restored. This is the only way for you to get away from punishment. Gather the soldiers and do it."

The good thing about the army is that it is self-sufficient. The division had its own masons, plumbers and building materials. Fortunately, the roof didn't collapse and something terrible like this didn't happen. And my tank was made of steel, of course, so it had no damage. The guys thought that the incident was very funny, everyone was eager to help, so I didn't have to strain too much to organize the process. By noon, the pipes and the wall were restored, it remained to wait until everything was dry to start plastering. I was in a normal mood, because I got the opportunity to get acquainted with the preparation of mortar and the laying of cinder blocks. Of course, I had to put up with the fact that the whole base teased me: "Ah, I heard about your tank." I also spent the whole week in outfits out of turn: peeling potatoes with other guilty people in a place where everyone could see us when they went to a meal.

By the spring of 1966, I began to think that the army was not so obligatory for me. I filed a report on early dismissal, but he lay motionless for several months. At the end of spring, we had a twelve-hour night exercise. By two o'clock in the morning, the company moved to positions on the top of the hill, and the order for a halt was received.

As soon as I got out of the hatch, all three officers started shouting at me at once. I stood at attention until they finished. When the screams finally died down, one officer stepped forward, glared at me, and then burst out laughing.

—Driver-mechanic Schwarzenegger," he ordered, "bring your tank over here.

— I'm listening!

I put the tank where he indicated. When I got out of the hatch, I found myself standing in deep, viscous mud.

— And now, driver-mechanic Schwarzenegger, I want you to crawl under the bottom of your tank. When you get out from under the stern, climb onto the tank, go down through the tower inside and leave the tank through the emergency hatch in the bottom. Then do it all over again.

The officer ordered me to perform this circle 50 times.

When I finished four hours later, I had 10 kilograms of dirt on me and I could hardly move. I left another 50 kilograms of dirt inside the tank, crawling through it. I had to clean everything up at the base. That officer could have put me in the guardhouse for a week, but I must admit, this punishment turned out to be much more effective.

A few weeks after this incident, I was called to the authorities. The officer told me with a smile: "Since your presence here poses a certain danger to others, we decided to satisfy your report and release you ahead of schedule. We don't need you to continue destroying tanks."

Many years later, Iron Arnie found the very tank on which he served, bought it and put it in his backyard — as a keepsake