I remember I was around eight years old. Our family was living in Los Angeles, CA. I went outside because I heard low-flying jet aircraft. It turned out to be a flight of newly commissioned B-52s on their way to March AFB, and I just sat and watched them go by in awe of these beautiful aircraft. I knew then that I wanted to join the Air Force and work on those aircraft.
When I turned 17 in October of 1969, I hadn’t much going for me. In fact, I had nothing going for me except trouble. I dropped out of high school in my junior year. I had not held any job longer than receiving my first paycheck. I had been arrested for grand larceny and was given the chance to leave home by joining the Army.
I was released to my father’s custody to make my decision. While talking about it with one of my friends, we decided to visit the recruiting station on our own. We signed right up for the prospect of leaving our hometown, getting away, and starting a life on our own.
We joined on the buddy basic program for training as Cooks. e enlisted on the very last day of the ’60s, 31 December 1969. It was a special ceremony, and we spent the next five days on administrative leave, then reported for basic training. I like the old cadence song I joined the Army to, “Go to war or go to jail.” Who influenced them? Well, the Judge, my friend Mike Hoyden, and my Father. Then my Dad dropped me off and told me, “This is not just another job you can quit.” I didn’t…. for 29 years and two months.
I was 7 years old when Pearl Harbor was hit. I grew up wishing I could get involved. We did in the ways kids could, collecting scrap medals and tinfoil (from cigarette packs) and learning and practicing the “Scout Run” to be able to act as messengers as Scouts in England, if necessary.
When graduating from high school I couldn’t wait to join. Korea was going then (1954). I missed Korea but, made the Navy a career and was involved in Vietnam.
No one person influenced me to join the Navy. World events played that role.
Well, I was a little bored with school for starters even though I was a very good student. If I had followed my older brother’s lead I would have done two years at St. Pete JC in Clearwater, FL. After that who knows; he went into the USAF.
I suppose I was also ready to get away from my life as a shy-loner-dateless nobody in high school. My best friend Jeff (RIP 2006) and I somehow ended up climbing the stairs to the Armed Forces recruiting offices in downtown Clearwater, Florida in the early spring of 1972. We were actually looking for the Air Force recruiter, but I don’t recall exactly what our motivation was. As it happened the Air Force guy was out of the office, but the Marine recruiter, Gunny Bill Goddell, right across the hall, was in.
I’ve always chalked it up to fate. When I was a kid one of my favorite books to check out of the elementary school library, which I now have a copy was ‘Leatherneck’, a picture book about life in the Marine Corps by well-known author C. B. Colby. Quite a coincidence. When we found out the Marines had an Air Force too we were hooked. We delay-enlisted for aircraft maintenance guarantees in April 1972 and shipped to boot camp in October.
I was influenced by the girl that I was dating, her father was a full-bird Colonel in the Army by the name of Col. Austin Yerks. He felt that with Vietnam, it was a patriotic thing for me to do. I was planning to go into the Air Force with a buddy of mine, but at the truly last minute, I got off the bus and went to a Marine Corps recruiter. Joined on my birthday, August 18th, and never missed not joining the Air Force except for the extra pay that they received for uncomfortable living conditions in Vietnam and their unlimited supply of food.
I joined the Coast Guard in 1967 and that was due to the conversation with the recruiter. He let me know just what the Coast Guard was all about and filled me in on the history of the Guard.
It was everything that I wanted and signed up.
Growing up in Delaware, I spent a few weeks every summer at Dewey Beach. I recall seeing a 44-foot motor lifeboat from Indian River Inlet Station on patrol and then working with an HH-52A helicopter from Air Station Cape May, N.J.
Over the radio, I learned that some folks were rescued by the Coast Guard that day and that I had probably seen part of the rescue procedure. One summer, a high school friend and his father were fishing in the Atlantic about 12 miles offshore when their boat sank. They were ultimately saved by the Coast Guard and that made a distinct impression on me.
I received a Draft Notice and decided that traveling on the water was better than traveling on my feet in the mud.
My first look at the military was with an Air National Guard Unit in Mansfield, Ohio. It looked very promising and in an area that interested me (computer programming). They showed me the computer and how it requires to be programmed (wires). But the reason that I didn’t choose to go this route was that they wanted me to cut my hair (still attending OSU) just for a photo. It was still over six months until I would enter basic. I couldn’t let my hair go.
The military draft lottery drawing held August 5, 1971, to determine the order in which men born in 1952 were called to report for induction into the military.
The highest lottery number called for this group (year) was 95; all men assigned that lottery number or any lower number, and who were classified 1-A or 1-A-O (available for military service), were called to report for possible induction. My draft number was 17. I was also classified as 1-A.
26 August 1971 I signed my enlistment contract for delayed entry into the US Army. I enlisted for four years which got me my choice of military occupational specialty (MOS) and where I wanted to be stationed. My choice for MOS was communications, specifically Communication center specialist. My choice of where I was to be located was Europe. It also meant that I entered active duty as an E-2.
There were several reasons why I chose military service in general and the Marines in particular. My father was an engineer on a B-29 in WWII. He felt that his military experience was a major turning point in his life. He encouraged me to consider military service and actively lobbied that I should apply to the USMA.
I chose the Marines to make a statement that I supported the Vietnam War. I attended an elite college prep school where it was fashionable to be anti-war and anti-military. I supported America’s role in Vietnam and the worldwide battle against communism. Many members of my mothers family lived under communist oppression in Poland and I felt it was my duty to defend the American way of life. I had heard horror stories as to the break down in the Army and felt that Marine discipline, training, and esprit de corps was superior to all the other armed forces. Also, I felt challenged to do something big and demanding. I could have easily hidden out in college until the war was over but I chose a more difficult route.
There were several events that occurred in my life which contributed to my decision to join the navy. The first occurred in 1958 when I was a young thirteen years old. My oldest brother was serving in the Navy; he joined in 1956 and in February 1958 he was on his way home on leave from his duty station in Norfolk, Va.; unfortunately, he was killed in a car accident. In my young mind, I swore I would join the Navy to finish what he had started. You see, he had only been in for two years.
Family members who served in the Army had the greatest influence on me. My brother, Bill Turnbow, my uncle, Stanley Scott, and another uncle, Leland Scott, all served in the Army. I was from a small town in southwest Kentucky called Hickman, and there wasn’t much opportunity for a young man there, so I had pretty much decided I was going in the Army after school. Four days after getting out of high school, one of my best friends decided he was going to enlist in the Navy. He wanted me to go with him, and even though I really didn’t want to go in the Navy, he finally talked me into it. The Navy recruiter was from our hometown, so we went to see him. On May 29th, 1962 Eddie Cagle and I were on a Greyhound bus headed to Memphis, Tennessee for our physicals.
