The Christy Collection
Military Stories and Articles
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.
I was influenced by a few factors. I was brought up in a patriotic New England family. I had uncles who fought in Vietnam, Korea, and WWII, and my grandfather on my mother’s side fought in WWI. I remember as a young boy going with most of them to the local Memorial Day parade. We would always stand near a bridge where the parade would stop and a wreath would be thrown into the water.
The other factor that influenced me was the 6 o’clock news. As I was growing up in the ’60s, the Vietnam War was in full swing, and the daily body count of US GI’s and Viet Cong would always be announced. I remember how it bothered me when there were more GI’s killed on any given day than VC. My mind was made up just as I started high school. I wanted to go over there and even the odds. Having grown up on a farm and already having handled rifles and shotguns, I felt I was ready.
As a kid, I always liked the military. As a young kid, I wanted to join the Navy. When I got to high school, we had Army JROTC, and my interest changed to Army or Marines. My dad, who was in the Army, convinced me that the Army was the way to go because it was bigger and promoted faster. He was a tanker and tried to steer me to armor. I wanted to be an airborne ranger, and my dad said whatever you do, ensure you get what you want in your contract. When I went to the recruiter, I scored very high on the ASVAB. The career counselor told me that he didn’t have airborne infantry available. He said the only thing with airborne was the 31C Radio Operator, probably because of the high GT. I believed him and felt good about getting guaranteed airborne. It first took me to the 82nd, and as soon as I got there, I started applying for a Ranger assignment because I got put in the Engineer Battalion, and it wasn’t what I wanted. After a year and a half, I got my wish and orders for Ranger Indoctrination and the 2nd Ranger Battalion.
In July 1955, the day after my 17th birthday, a long-time friend, Mac Viars, and I enlisted in the U.S. Air Force, and before the day was over, we were on a train headed for Lackland Air Force Base near San Antonio, Texas.
Our original plan was to enlist in the Navy, but the Navy recruiter told us we couldn’t go until later. The Air Force recruiter said we could leave “today,” so that was decided. We needed a parent’s signature on an Air Force form when we enlisted. At that time, my mother was living in Baxter Springs, Kansas. So, Mac’s mother signed my mother’s name on my form.
After completing a physical exam, swearing in, and some paperwork, we boarded a train at Union Station in St. Louis wearing jeans, white T-shirts, “throw-away” shoes, and a few packs of cigarettes. We counted on getting all new clothes when we got there, and that did come true.
