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Why I Joined the Navy
I was a third semester senior at NC State — a physics major. I had applied for graduate school in physics at State and the University of Virginia, but hadn’t received word on acceptance. Later that October, I was sitting outside a classroom waiting for my next class, when I glanced up at a poster on the bulletin board. It showed a picture of a guy looking through a periscope, with words like “Join the Navy” and “Nuclear Power.” It sounded cool to me. I was taking nuclear physics and quantum mechanics at the time, and I thought “This sounds like a job opportunity.” I pulled off one of the tear-away post cards, filled it out, and mailed it in to the local recruiter in Raleigh.
Things happened fast after that. I got a call from the local recruiting office. They wanted to meet me. I drove there one afternoon, met my recruiter — a Navy pilot — and we got down to business. I took some kind of standardized test and had an interview. I must have scored well. A few days later, I was invited to fly to DC for a series of additional tests, and possibly an interview with … Admiral Hyman Rickover, the father of the nuclear navy.
So, I flew up to Washington, did the tests and interviews, and the rest was history — I got accepted into the US Navy’s Nuclear Propulsion Officer Candidate program. Now, we get to the meat of this post’s title — why did I join in the first place?
As I stated before, I had applied for graduate school, but no word yet on acceptance. What was I going to do in December after I graduated without a path forward? After talking with the recruiter, I realized a few things that added up to my decision:
- I was tired of going to school and I wanted to get out there and earn a living.
- I didn’t know if I was going to grad school, so my academic future was uncertain.
- Well … being an officer on a nuclear submarine actually sounded kind of cool. It appealed to the kid in me that used to play war with all my friends — except this time, I could do it with real weapons!
So there you have it. No patriotic motive like joining after 9/11 (although my patriotism increased 1000 percent shortly after I joined), no initial desire to serve my country (I cringe when I hear liberals talk about writing a bill to introduce mandatory “National Service” when a kid turns 18), no family tradition to uphold (although I had tons of older relatives who served in the Navy and the Marines during WW2 (including one great uncle was in the Naval Academy when Rickover was there). No, my initial reason was simply to get a job. Ironically, my first one and a half years in the Navy was spent going to school (see Reason #1). However, getting paid to go to school made a big difference…
Fellow Ricochetti who have served in the military — what stories do you have about why you joined? Chasing the dollar as I started out, or patriotism from the git-go?
Regardless of the reasons you folks joined, my military service ended up with me loving this country with all my heart and soul.
Published in General
Today is a big day, militarily, for my family. My oldest daughter has been dating a boy for a couple of years. Today he flies out to San Antonio for basic training in the Air Force. Ultimately he’ll work on fighter avionics (he’s a bright kid), see the world, etc…but more importantly he’s taking the first step today on his journey into manhood. He’s let go the apron strings of his mother, his father can no longer compel free and forced labor out of him for the family business, and he becomes solely responsible for himself starting today. I was not amused that my daughter started dating before I had authorized it, but she chose well, and I am proud of Zach for taking the initiative to make a go at life.
First lottery. Number 15. Greetings two weeks later. Yikes, methinks! So I decided to enlist, aiming to avoid the infantry in 1970. Signed for three years, choosing Chinook helicopter maintenance and aircrew duties as my MOS. During initial processing, they discovered that I had a real education and some aptitudes, so attempted to convinced me to attend OCS and become a real live 2nd lieutenant. Unfortunately for them, the only branch choice was infantry, so I demurred, and fixed and crewed Chinooks.
Big fun, with the notable exception of incoming .51 caliber machine gun fire in Viet Nam, so I stayed for eight years. Was planning on a long career, and was ahead of the curve, destined for command sergeant rank. Then Carter happened, we had hardly any parts or fuel, and began marching in circles. They even made me wear a hat on the flightline. So I left, sadly.
Take aways? Great people, important missions, challenged to excel, and fun. Made me a better person.
The continuous social engineering did it for me. Merit began to play a lesser part and race and gender more and more a determining factor in assignment and promotions. Also the Air Force has an identity problem. Constant reclassification of enlisted ranks and changes to the uniform are on going. My E-4 airman 1st class crew chief became an E-4 sergeant the next day and now they are called a senior airman. It also became obvious we didn’t intend to “win” wars. So what’s the point? Spend the nation’s fortune in money and lives. Seemed noble at the time, pointless now.
This is obviously true in every context in or out of the military. Many (most?) of my fellow employees at a tire plant in Oklahoma made themselves miserable by only seeing the downsides of their situation instead of being thankful for the opportunity to make a good living in exchange for an honest day’s work. Attitude means a lot and has more to do with one’s happiness than just about any circumstance, I believe.
BTW, thank you, thank you, thank you to all Veterans for the contribution you made to preserving my freedom. I had a lottery number of 360 in 1968 (if I remember the year correctly) and was advised not to enlist if I didn’t have to. I’ve never been sure if that was a good decision or not; there are more than two ways to look at it, but I will be forever grateful to those who serve.
Yeah, I understand. I went from a specialist 6 to a staff sergeant overnight. At least I was in roles both technical and leadership, but I still found such a change kinda strange. Thankfully, during my time in the Army, the social BS hadn’t really started yet.
My birthday is December 7th. How could I have not joined the Navy?
From a 4F to all of you Ricochetti who served: A thousand thanks and God bless you all!
Growing up in suburban Massachusetts, I probably would never have learned of ROTC if not for my grandfather. He had enlisted in Navy at the tail end of WWII and stayed in for only a couple of years, but he often talked about his experiences and the family members in lost in the war.
Additionally, like many teenagers I was always trying to assert my independence from my parents. Having the Navy pay my tuition at Cornell, instead of my parents, was incredibly attractive.
As a mechanical engineering student, I was strongly steered towards submarines by the NROTC staff. I also welcomed the unique challenges that come with being a JO on a submarine and the nuclear training pipeline. My experiences as a submarine officer were a mixed bag to say the least, but hugely valuable at the same time.
Doug Watt
Thanks for posting the end of the war announcement. I got chills reading it.
And thanks to all the current and former servicemen (& women) among the Ricochet ranks – we all owe you a debt of gratitude for your service.
I graduated from high school in Orlando in May of 1965. One night in November my buddy and I started talking about the Navy reserves and the submarine service. I can’t really remember the attraction. It just seemed like an exciting thing to do. The next morning we were signing up at the local Naval Reserve Center. My initial plan was to go to college, do the ROTC thing, and then go on active duty as an officer. That didn’t happen. One year and one semester later I was headed to New London. Then to Key West for two years active duty on a vintage WWII sub (SS403) as an MM. Back in those days there were only six sub bases, if memory serves me: New London, Norfolk, Charleston, Key West, San Diego, Honolulu. There were two more in Holy Locks, Scotland and Rota, Spain for FBMs.
Upon graduating from Sub School, my buddy put in for Key West, Charleston, and Norfolk. He was a home boy. I put in for Honolulu, San Diego, New London (1st, 2nd, and 3rd choices). In typical military fashion, he was sent to San Diego and I ended up in Key West.
Ironically, Viet Nam was the last thing on our minds in late 1965. Six months later, in the spring of 1966, at least six of our high school buddies were dead in Viet Nam and there was a six-month waiting list to get in the reserves.
In 1966, I was busy dropping out of college, having come to the conclusion that I was wasting my time and my Dad’s money. I felt a need to change my environment and challenge myself, so I visited the local recruiting office, told them I wanted to qualify for OCS. They sent me to take the battery of tests before I signed up. I passed, so I enlisted. I may be the only enlistee in 1966 who asked for and was guaranteed an 11B MOS — light weapons infantry. I didn’t see the point of being in the Army and not getting to play with all the weapons. During AIT, those of us who showed any math aptitude were put into the 11C platoon (indirect fire – mortars) and I went through most of that course before they discovered I was guaranteed 11B. I had to qualify on all the weapons in one week. So I was able to learn even more weapons than I had intended. This was helpful when I got to infantry OCS, as I already knew a lot of the “technical” stuff. I spent 2 years in Alaska and 1 year in Korea: the only known instance of the Army making an intelligent assignment decision. Who knows how much harm I might have done in Viet Nam.
I stayed in the Army Reserve another 11 years. It helped pay for college when I returned. Attitude is everything; college was much easier after 4 years active duty.
Thanks Stad, for an excellent post.
And thank you all for your honest and heartfelt responses.
“An honest answer is like a kiss on the lips.” Proverbs 24:26
I was finishing up law school and ran into a dentist who had just exited the Air Force. He touted his experience and this intrigued me. Although my preference was the Air Force as my dad had been Army Air Corps in WWII, I was open to the other services. Attorneys entered the service with the rank of Captain in the Air Force. When I talked to a Navy recruiter he said that attorneys in the Navy start out as lieutenants. When I mentioned that in the Air Force they started at the rank of Captain, the recruiter’s response was “Yeah, I heard that. I don’t know how they do it.” So, Q.E.D. I joined the Air Force. It was only during my orientation that I discovered that an Air Force Captain and a Navy Lieutenant were equivalent ranks. Funny that the Navy recruiter didn’t know that.
Oh too bad – if you’d only known, you could’ve been on the TV!
My recruiter told me I’d almost for sure get to ride on the Space Shuttle some day.
October, 1977. I entered the NUPOC-C program (Nuclear Propulsion Officer Candidate . . . I guess the last “C” stood for “Cash”). Reported to OCS in Newport, R.I. early January, 1978 – right when the blizzard hit.
He did make “Recruiter of the Year” that year. I can only assume it was because . . .
Amen to that. Just saying I was an ex-Navy Nuke opened all sorts of doors and job opportunites. Hey Jon, you should make a post “Why I Left The Navy”. I was thinking of doing that this weekend, but I’m kinda busy with some editing ATM . . .
Doors?
Lasagna. The Navy was downsizing and I wasn’t.
Up or out. Hit high year tenure at 24 years as a CPO, couldn’t make senior chief. Would have done 30 if they’d let me.
I guess “doors and job opportunites” were the same thing when I thought about it and typed it in. Saying you are an ex-Navy nuke, especially to job interviewers who either were, or knew of, what being a nuclear-trained person went through, gave me more than an edge when it came to job offers.
It’s a gift . . .
Sorry, Stad. Should have said “doors, not hatches?” Sad, I know. I got a million of ’em.
I had a similar problem. After I had been out for five years, I joined the Navy Reserve. I was in a great unit and doing very well. However, after two years, I was forced out. Why? I got passed over twice for promotion to Lieutenant Commander, which means adios . . .
Apparently, the “time in service” clock was still ticking even though I left the Navy and was inactive. When I joined the Reserves, my name came up before the promotion board with the info that I had not joined the Reserves right after I got out. I can’t argue with their logic – people that joined the Reserves right after active duty should get preference.
Anyway, I had a good send-off from my Reserve buddies, and my Reserve CO remined me of that old saying:
“There’s a right way, a wrong way, and the Navy way.”
I have it on good authority (mindless repetition, for the most part) that it should be: right way/wrong way/Army way. I figure ‘Navy way’ must be one of those ‘wrong’ ways.
Oh boy I heard stories and rumors of things with Rickover. I heard that the interviews were something else. Was yours distressingly normal?