I still remember that summer with a smile. I was in love with Sue. I had been her first. She was not my first but that was not important. I was going to graduate college in December after spending the last two summer taking classes so I could graduate early and start my life.

We had big plans. I would graduate and teach history at the local high school. Maybe I would coach the high school baseball team then in the summer I would coach little league. In three years Sue would graduate and teach 5^th grade. We laid on a blanket under a million stars and swore our love for each other as we listened to Jay and The Americans sing “Come a little bit closer” on my transistor radio. Sue had an idea. I sang the male parts and she sang the female parts. If Karaoke had existed back then we would have killed it!

I imagine God smiling at those plans!

The Beatles were conquering the world but we were not big fans. LBJ signed the civil rights act into law and declared a war on poverty. An incident happened half way around the world in the Gulf of Tonkin that would affect my life. But I was so naïve, so innocent. I did not give it a second thought.

We went back to school in September and I graduated as planned in December. In January I received a letter from my rural draft board. I was ordered to take a physical! This was not in the plans!

Of course I was in excellent health so I was listed as 1-A. My dad, who was a wounded combat vet from World War 2, gave me some advice.

“Get out ahead of this. You are a college graduate. Go down and join the Air Force. You’ll end up sitting in a bunker with an ICBM somewhere in South Dakota. If not you’ll be cannon fodder.”

The recruiting station had all four services in one big room separated by short walls. I found the Air Force officer sitting at his desk. I walked in and introduced myself. I started my speech about how I had just graduated and wanted to know what the Air Force could offer me.

He laughed.

“I’ll put you on a list. Maybe in 2 or 3 years I’ll give you a call. Right now I have way more people than I have billets for.”

He stood up and shook my hand and said, “Good luck.”

Next up was the Navy.

I shook hands with this guy who had wings on his chest. I imagined he was a pilot. He was and damn proud of it. He listened to my speech then started talking about me becoming a pilot. I would fly the fastest most powerful aircraft in the world. I thought he must not have listened to my speech. I am what was called at the time a “long haired country boy” I majored in history. No science courses except the basics. I really did not understand why a jet airplane could fly. Hell! I had never been to an airport in my life much less flown on a plane!

I thanked him and took a pamphlet. I told him I would think about it.

Next up was the Army.

He listened and nodded his head.

“We need helicopter pilots. You interested?”

I just looked at him like he was crazy. I figured I could shoot one of those things down with my deer rifle. I shook his hand and said, “Not really.”

There was no one in the Marine section.

I walked out into the hall and there was this Marine standing by the water fountain. He looked up and saw me.

“So which one did you decided to go with? The Army or the Navy?”

“Neither. I don’t want to fly.”

I started my speech. He stopped me.

“I heard it twice,”

“So what can the Marine Corps offer me?”

“The Marines will offer you a pack, a rifle and a hard way to go.”

At least he’s honest.

An hour later I had filled out all the paperwork and had a date set to leave for OCS at Quantico, Va.

Chapter 2: --Marine Training

Three weeks later I am in the lead car of a caravan of 3 cars heading for the airport. Why three cars? I was the first in my family to graduate college. I was going to be the first to ever get on an airplane. The entire family wanted to see that happen. My cousins were actually taking bets that I would chicken out at the last minute and not get on the plane.

Well I got on that plane and about 12 hours later I am standing at attention in front of my rack (bunkbed) in a squad bay. There is a Marine Lieutenant speaking to us.

“OCS is not the hardest school in the Marine Corps but it is one of the toughest to get thru. This school is run by Marine NCO’s. They will be rough on you. They are the ones who get to decide who they will take orders from in the future. Now you can quit anytime you want. I’ll have you on a plane the next day and at supper that night with your momma. You can tell your family all about how mean we were to you. If you cannot hack it one of the NCO’s will drop you out of the program. So look around. About half of you will not be here in 10 weeks.”

He was right. My platoon had 60 candidates in it that first night. We graduated 28.

After taking the oath and pinning on the yellow bars of a 2^nd Lt. I moved over to The Basic School. This was where we were taught to be Marine Officers. This school was run by officers. We hardly saw an NCO except maybe out on the ranges.

We were urged to do our best. The higher we placed in the class the more likely we would be allowed to choose our MOS (military occupational specialty). There were lots of good safe jobs available in the Marine Corps!

When the final rankings were posted I was 40^th in a class of 160. Not too bad for this country boy with a history major from a state university. I was rubbing shoulders with some of the finest and brightest men in the country.