When I graduated from Rochester (PA) High School in 1960, my opportunities were limited. I could not afford to attend college, and I did not want to become a steelworker or coal miner like the rest of my family. The Army draft was also hanging over my head! I chose the Coast Guard for its humanitarian and peacetime missions.
The draft was on! I dreamed of being an Air Force pilot… had several training flights during my first two years of Air Force ROTC at Gettysburg College (PA), a detachment that trained only pilots in 1956-1957. After completing my second year of ROTC, I was subjected to a complete physical, in which I discovered that I was color-blind and consequently would never be able to fly as an Air Force pilot. I was disappointed, but shortly thereafter learned that the Navy had an easier-to-pass color-blindness test… so I arranged for a physical at the Philadelphia Navy Base… it was an all-day exercise; the last event was the color-blindness test. The testers brought out what I knew was the same test the Air Force testers used. Surprised, I asked about the different tests and replied, “Oh, we found out that this one is more reliable.” And so ended my desire to be a military pilot. I put the whole idea of military service on the back burner until my senior year, in the spring of 1962…following two dropouts for lack of funds to return.
One of my family members served with Washington in the Revolutionary War, John Cahoes. He was actually on a sortie to capture an English General. They had to cross from New York to New Jersey in a rowboat, crossing between English warships in the dark of night. Intel had it that the British general had a kept maiden at a local pub, and the Americans caught him with his pants down. His troops were encamped just down from the pub. They caught him in bed and hauled him back down to the bay before they let him put his pants on. Then they rowed back across the bay between the warships.
My decision to join the Navy was heavily influenced by my stepfather, a seasoned World War II and Korean War Navy veteran who retired as a Boatswain’s Mate First Class (BM1). After my mother remarried, he was transferred from the Navy shipyard in Boston to the Navy shipyard in Portsmouth, Virginia, just when I started high school, and it was not an easy transition for me. During my senior year of high school, his no-nonsense advice was clear: he strongly encouraged me to enlist, telling me to visit the recruiter because, upon graduating from high school, I’d need to leave his house. His experience as a crusty old salt and his ‘firm guidance’ (nice way of saying it) steered me toward a Navy enlistment.
I’ve traced my family history back to the Battle of Hastings – my family has chosen military service for as far back as I have been able to trace. I guess it’s in the blood. But really, my decision to enlist in the Army was deeply shaped by the unwavering support and inspiration from my family and friends. Growing up, I was surrounded by loved ones who valued service, discipline, and patriotism, with many sharing stories of their own experiences or expressing admiration for those who served.
One of the most significant influences on my decision to join the Air Force was witnessing the United States Air Force Thunderbirds perform at Otis Air Base in Massachusetts when I was a child. The impressive aerial maneuvers and the skill demonstrated by the pilots left a lasting impression on me, sparking a deep interest in aviation and the military.
Well, it’s the summer of 1966, and I just graduated from high school — then I got accepted to college in September and couldn’t wrap my head back in the books again, so I quit halfway through that semester. During that time, I kept getting notices in the mail to report to draft headquarters and going to college deferred 10 notices in 2 months — So, the day I quit, I went back home to visit my parents and, while I was doing that, I ran into a high school friend of mine and asked him what you doing – he says to me, I’m heading down to the Navy recruiting office and I say wait I’m going with ya – so that’s what we did – join the Navy because I didn’t want to carry a gun and get shot at.
I had worked as a fingerprint technician with the FBI in Washington, DC, from June 1962 through August 1964. I then called an ARMY RECRUITER and volunteered to join the Army. When speaking with the recruiter, I also selected the US ARMY SECURITY AGENCY. He warned me that I had to score at least 112 on my battery tests to be in the ASA MOS. Luckily, I scored 114.5. By the way, I was in the ARMY SECURITY AGENCY Honor Guard while going through my MOS schooling for THE ENTIRE year of 1965. I started out as just an honor guard member, then became a squad leader, a platoon Sergeant, and ultimately, the Field First, overseeing the entire Honor Guard, Companies A & B. The Honor Guard was Company “G” at Fort Devens. The attached picture was taken when I was Field First on NCO Day, when all companies marched to Soldier’s Field to listen to various speakers.
I grew up an adopted child in a dysfunctional family and was compelled to leave home at age 16. I managed to finish high school while paying for room and board earned from working two part-time jobs. In 1953, at age 17, I joined the Army National Guard (Combat Engineers, Charlestown, MA) to earn extra money and its drill team for the same reason, getting my first taste of military service. I was Captain of my high school hockey team, earned league All-Star honors, but had a passing but unimpressive academic record. Playing at the college level required remediation in prep school, which was unaffordable. So, I decided to test myself in the Marine Corps, a better option than the projected path that lay ahead. That decision changed my life!
Just before I graduated from high school, at 17 years old, I was home. It was just Mom and me, and she said to me, “I think you need to call the ‘recruiter’ and enlist in the Air Force. Since my Dad served in the Army Air Forces during WWII, there was no other choice but to join the Air Force. Mom knew that the best thing for me was to get away from home, and we could not afford college tuition, so this was the logical step.
I grew up in Santa Ana, CA (1970s) near MCAS El Toro and watched the Blue Angels every year, and I always admired the Marines. A strange thing happened around 1971, when my dad was a taxi driver picking up Marines from El Toro who were directly returning from Vietnam. This is something that’s terrible. However, it sheds light on what was going on with our veterans returning from war at this time.
I graduated from high school when I was 17, and when I started Junior College, I was still 17. Just before my 18th birthday, dad asked what I was going to do in the spring, and I told him I sure wasn’t going back to college and that I was going to apply for a job with one of the many aerospace companies in the area (Rocketdyne, Thompson-Ramo-Wooldridge, Lockheed, et al). Dad then said that no one was going to hire an 18-year-old, with the draft hanging over his head (there was no lottery in late 1963, and I’d never even heard of Vietnam), and I had no college deferment. He said I ought to just enlist, get my military service out of the way, and learn a skill.
