March 9, 2011, this year, quite obviously, I was invited to the New Soldier's Awards and banquet program which was held in the local American Legion, Bartlesville, Oklahoma.  I am a photographer so I took my camera and I took many photographs of the young men and women who were to receive various awards for their accomplishments as new soldiers.  Also, Major Paul Clark was retiring after twenty-five years of service in the United States Army. Major Clark, Sergeant First Class Robert Kowal, and Staff Sergeant Ricky Stewart, the Bartlesville Station Commander presented awards to the individuals.  Major Clark took time to tell the young soldiers and their families his story.  He began as an enlisted soldier, served in his assignments and as he moved along in commands, he began to take college courses.  He told the young soldiers, and old veterans who attended, about his success in college and how it eventually led to his becoming an officer.  He spoke at length about the opportunities he had received from the army and he said that he was the first person in his family to have a college education.  I took photographs of Major Clark and his two sergeants standing in front of the great American flag adorning most of one wall in the American Legion post. 

Coincidentally, the date of this presentation fell on the 50th anniversary of the date upon which I stood, with three other new sailors, raised my right hand and took the oath of enlistment.  It was a somber moment, one filled with both fear and pride, and not a small sense of accomplishment as a navy Captain with four full stripes shook hands with each of us and offered, "Congratulations.  You are now men of the United States Navy."  I was seventeen and by less than a month so anyone using my name and man in the same sentence was bound to impress me as I was still struggling to figure out what I was.  Major Clark and the sergeants knew that the day would be my anniversary and they chose to let me celebrate it with brothers, new brothers, young ones, but brothers by virtue of the oath of enlistment, by virtue of the uniform I had worn, and they one they would soon wear.  Different of course, one a sailor's uniform, one a soldier's uniform, but they represented many of the same things and a common understanding existed among us of what that brotherhood meant.  It meant boot camp, non-commissioned officers, being shouted out, abused--in the name of discipline--long hours, little rest, long lines, eating in mess halls, sleeping with a hundred men in a small room, and pride.

In the end, it is impossible not to feel pride.  There is pride in the uniform, in the colors, in marching, in hearing your song for your service branch, pride in just knowing that you served, that you did your duty, somehow.

That evening, not only did they join me in celebrating that fifty year mark in my life, from seventeen to sixty-seven, but the soldiers gave me an award which I was told each of them had contributed to.  It was a clock contained in a wooden enclosure with a plaque marking not only my service but my Military Service Bible Project. It is a beautiful instrument and I photographed it, that's what we photographers do, photograph, everything and often.  I was both embarrassed and filled with pride.  Embarrassed because I did not feel I had done anything to deserve their reward, filled with pride just because they had given me an award.  I give Bibles, but not with expectation for anything.  When I began I wanted to get others to help and to also give Bibles, and that has happened as people learn from me about the military Bibles.  After I had given about ten, I set a formal goal to give one hundred to the Marine Corps and see where it went from there.  Along the way, I also gave some to soldiers, sailors, airmen and a coast-guards man.  I have kept track of them and we have now given 120 Military Service Bibles; 84 have gone to marines, 19 to soldiers, 10 to sailors and the rest divided up in various ways.  With 84 having gone to marines, 16 more will meet that goal and I will concentrate on the army for a while with a change in my goal.  When will I quit?  I don't think I will. not as long as I am able.  The project has cost me $3,155.64 so far, just in Bibles and I still have shipping costs with some of them, and I don't monitor the shipping, packing and other costs, just the costs of the Bibles.  I shared my numbers with Sergeant Kowal recently; he has become a friend as well as a soldier I know.  Sergeant Kowal digested the figure I had shown him and he said, "That's a lot of money."  And I said, "It's worth it."

I am glad to do it, small as it is, but I feel good about it and I take a lot of pride in doing it.  I am also proud of the gift the soldiers have given me.  It is an honor.

Stephen J. Payne

Why is it Called Red Boots?

Like anything, our project needed a name.  We at first considered The Marine's Bible Project, but that was rejected because it was too specific and omitted other branches of the service.  But, we also thought that we might have a Marine's and then a Soldier's and perhaps more, but that became too many isolated projects and because there will always be new marines, new soldiers and sailors, we knew that a single project would never be concluded.

I wear Red Boots and so I have acquired that as a nickname and also a trademark of sorts.  Some people with whom I have interaction don't know my name, or they don't remember it, because they are in public and deal with too many people.  But few forget my Red Boots, so after I give my name and hear "Who?" I will say "Red Boots" and I am usually remembered. from that.  I considered naming the project after my son but he was a musician and far from any association with the military.  In fact, his health would have prevented his enlistment had he wanted to enlist.  My son, Stephen William Payne (1967-2003) was diagnosed with Type I (Juvenile) Diabetes at age fourteen so he had acquired the disease when he was thirteen, and it shaped the rest of his life.

Somehow affixing Red Boots to it became natural to me since often the soldiers and marines also knew me as either Red Boots, The Photographer, or in some cases, just "The old guy."  That's alright as many years separate us, the young soldiers and marines from me.  In fact, March 9, 2011 marked the day, fifty years ago that I stood with my right hand raised before a navy captain and took the oath of enlistment.  I did not remember all of the words, only, "I, Stephen Joe Payne, do solemnly..." and at or near the end, "...so help me God."  I heard "Congratulations men, you are now men of the United States Navy."  At the word men, we must have been looking around to see to whom he was talking for we were boys, seventeen in my case, with the eldest of the group of four only nineteen.  There was a lot of distance then too between seventeen and nineteen.  From my vantage point today, seventeen and twenty-nine are almost the same.

Red Boots makes as much sense to me as almost anything I can think of, so Red Boots it is.  I, and we, are not yet a non-profit organization, nor exactly a charity.  We are just one person with a specific mission, and as a friend told me, an evolving mission.  My mission here is to give Military Branch Service Bibles to the enlisted men and women, and officers, of the United States Armed Forces to the best of my ability for as long as I am able, and if it evolves into an organization that continues to do so, then I will feel blessed for having contributed in a small way to something bigger than I am.

Red Boots it is.

Stephen Joe Payne