High School had just ended and my classmates were either wandering around the streets wondering what to do next or had plans that they were implementing. I had plans, plans that I had been working on for the past two years. The Chief of Police had connections with congress through the county attorney Bob Dole. There were attempts made at getting me an appointment to the Annapolis Naval Academy. I really believed it was going to happen because of all of the encouragement and positive reports from the chief. But it had all fallen through and I wound up wandering the streets with my classmates.

I was very focused on getting an education, but money was a scarce commodity in my life. I was in the Post Office one day visiting my Dad and noticed the Naval recruiting office. It was open so I went in and talked with the recruiter and shared my goals with him for further education. He told me about a new program offered by the Navy where they would send a recruit off for one year of intense college work. Survivors of this program would have a good chance of becoming an officer by taking training known as Officers Candidate School [OCS]. The only catch was that you had to enlist for six years. I told him it sounded good but that I was hesitant because of being so far from home. He came up with a quick solution; I could join with the Navy's buddy system. [Join with a friend from home.] And so it was, I joined the navy for six years with a friend he created and connected me with, Larry Bangert my new buddy.

I spent some time packing all of my precious things into a footlocker, which Dad said he would store and protect for me. I put blocks under my old 1951 Ford Victoria and bade Russell goodbye. I had not known Larry Bangert closely before this but we packed our things onto the bus and headed off to the recruiting office in Kansas City, Kansas where, after physicals, we were sworn in. The very next day we were on a Greyhound bound for San Diego, California. The date was June 6, 1958.

My awareness of the world really began to open up when I joined the U.S. Navy. The travel to many different states and cities, learning of new skills and technologies then meeting people from all over the US and world. All of these things were like seeing the world for the first time through a wide-angle lens.

My first experience was the bus trip to San Diego California to attend boot camp. Just getting off of the bus with all of those strangers and facing crude orders coming from the reception crew was a terrifying experience. The first order of business were haircuts, inoculations and then issuing clothing followed by returning everything we were wearing to our home. I sent my clothes to Dad's home. Then came the battery of aptitude tests, the navy's way of putting you into a "correct" skill discipline. My narrow worldly view and experience in auto mechanics lead me to become a "Machinist's Mate". And so it was.

The next big event in boot camp came immediately after all of the marching. I came down with bursitis of a knee-joint. This little mishap cost me a few weeks in sickbay and my buddy and company went on to graduate without me. I never saw Larry Bangert again. I graduated three weeks after Larry in company 410. Boot camp was over and since I joined in the Nuclear Power program I was set on a course for Nuclear Power school, either in Gorton, Connecticut or Mare Island, California. But first I had orders to be in Waukegan, Illinois in 15 days to attend my first class for my assigned discipline, "Machinist".

Russell was on the way and became my first visit on the way from San Diego, California to Waukegan, Illinois. I came home to Dad's small house and because there was no room and two stepsisters in the house I was asked not to stay there. So I went to Grandma's house. This was the first of many visits to Russell where I stayed with Grandma. She became home to me because Mom and Dad were absorbed in their new lives and I felt unwelcome in their homes.

The bus ride on to Waukegan, Illinois was a continuation of my education about the big world. Arrival in Chicago was another view of city life. The buses seem to be everywhere. They were huge imposing and unfriendly things that would belch exhaust gasses right at you when standing on the sidewalk. It seems that the bigger the city, the less I liked it. The Navy had arranged transportation from the Chicago bus station to the Training facility in Waukegan.

The weather was starting to get cold and there were hard blowing bitter cold winds coming off of Lake Superior. Our barracks were several blocks from the classrooms so we got a taste of the wind in the face every day. The class hours were long and monotonous. This led to the problem of falling asleep in class. To stave off the sleep we would run around the school building during hourly breaks. The bitter cold would wake you very quickly.

On one weekend in Waukegan I had a portrait of myself taken and prepared for Christmas presents for Mom and Dad. I was still a seaman, "two white stripes", and brand new dress blue uniform. My white hat was so new that it was still stiff and looked like a Dixie cup on my head.

About mid-term in the class we had a long weekend. I went with a classmate to visit his home in Bowling Green, Kentucky. We hitchhiked our way down there but took a bus back. His father took us both hunting squirrels. Then we went to one of his favorite high school hangouts. This was another view of the world and another broadening experience.

Machinists Mate school was a school to train machinists how to maintain steam propulsion plants on warship. The water in the steam cycle is boiled and superheated then used to turn huge turbines, which drive the propeller through huge reduction gears. The steam then passes into a seawater cooled condenser and is turned back to freshwater. My friend from Kentucky said the boiler and condenser would make a lot of moonshine. The use of steam for propulsion was very fascinating to me. We learned about all of the components in the plant including oil and coal fired boilers. However there was one thing certain on a war ship, at some point you are likely to be without parts needed for a repair. So we learned how to make your own parts with hand tools and steel stock. There was a project wherein we made a very precision piece of steel. We all called the thing a "Ker-Plunk", as in thrown over the side of a ship.

The school came to an end and I finished near the top of my class. I was promoted to fireman, "three red stripes". I was given orders for my next school in the "Nuclear Power" chain. This school was in New London, Connecticut. Submarine school was to prepare for my next assignment as crewmember aboard a WWII class submarine.

I left the naval training center just before Christmas and caught the bus to Kansas City. With my newfound skill of hitchhiking I started the trip from KC to Olathe, Kansas where Mom was now living. At some dark corner between KC and Olathe I got stranded. So I called Mom from a nice farmer family's home and asked for help. Mom and the chief came and rescued me. It was wonderful getting out of the cold snowy weather. This was almost my last hitchhiking experience.

After Christmas I packed up and went to Russell then went to work at getting my old 1951 Ford Victoria ready to go to New London with me. I really missed having my transportation. Dad helped me by getting the car insured. Now this car was a real sight! It was black with a white hardtop. It was lowered and had chromed side exhaust pipes, which were capped. When the caps were removed the side pipes were unmuffled straight pipes. Like in a scene right out of The Beverly Hillbillies I started off from Kansas to New London, CT.

After leaving Russell I traveled the highway US 40 eastbound. While I was traveling across Missouri I decided to stop in Columbia to see Melinda Kirkman. I met her in her dorm's hospitality room. We talked about what I was up to, what she was learning and went out on the town doing something like having a sandwich. I continued on east and eventually got onto the Pennsylvania turnpike. My eyes were being opened again. This road was my first experience of driving on a restricted access road, like the interstates are today. There were few roads like this in 1958.

It was a shocking experience when I got to the end of the Penn pike. After exiting at the last tollbooth you are right in the thick of New York City traffic. The road I picked from the map to get to New London transverses right through New York City. And so it was a new experience. I drove through the Holland tunnel and through the city. After passing north of NYC things got reasonable again. But, wow, my small town attitudes about the ease of driving went right out of the window in NYC.

I arrived at the submarine base in New London at night. Of course my first problem was parking. Without a base pass entry to the base is not possible. So I parked in a pay-for-parking lot across from the main gate. I walked up to the main gate carrying my very heavy sea bag only to find I needed to check in during the day. So having little experience in these matters I returned to my car and slept the night in the car.

Checking in the next day was a breeze and I was assigned a bunk in the school barracks. I learned that I did not have the proper insurance papers to get my car on base so I just kept it in the lot across the street for the remainder of the time I was in school there. The school was physically challenging and required a degree of coordination but it was fun. Learning to control the depth of a ship with wing like planes and pumping out or letting in ballast water required coordination. But mainly we had to learn to work as a team and do things in unison to obtain the desired results.

After learning how to operate a submarine we were getting pretty cocky. Then the real submarine school started. First for claustrophobia testing we were put in a sound proof booth large enough for a chair and an occupant. The door closed while you sat there for what seemed like hours. I think it was fifteen minutes. Next was the free assent training to qualify you to escape from a sunken submarine. They had a specially designed tower with a 100-foot column of water and a room at the bottom of the structure. The tower had little escape chambers spaced about every 30 feet. The escape chambers were designed to pull a student out of the water if he were having trouble ascending. The rules were very simple. All you had to do was inflate your life jacket and step under the escape hatch bell in the room at the bottom of the 100-foot tower. Your assent would begin as soon as you pass through the hatch. But you must blow air out of your lungs all of the way to the surface to keep your lungs from exploding. For your safety there are observers watching for those all-important stream of bubbles coming from your mouth. The will jerk you into one of the safety chambers should you stop blowing. I made it on the first pass but many were there for days trying to get it right.

The next lesson about submarines is that you must learn every system on the ship in case you get trapped in a compartment should the ship sink. We started with the ballast controls, flooding and blowing water from the main ballast. Then went on to fuel tanks that can be converted to ballast tanks and fuel systems to feed the diesel engines, hydraulic oil pressure supply and control valves, ventilation and air conditioning, battery wells, electric propulsion controls, diesel engines and snorkel controls. There were so many systems in a small three hundred-foot ship that it was mind numbing. This experience continued to take this young boy from Kansas and expand my universe of engineering before my eyes.

On to school, problem with parking car off base. Trip to NYC, trip to Scynectity , NY with school mate. Trip around New England and to Vassar campus. Roller skating, free assent, sub-theory another portrait. Assigned USS Spinax. Visit Flo and Joe in Hartford, CT. Joe helped me get tires for front of Ford.

Notes:

Trip home in Russell. Repair 51 Ford

Join USS Spinax in Vallejo, CA., in shipyard. Stopped at Fast food on Tennessee Street. Problem getting car on base parked off base in back gate parking lot. Sold 51 Ford to Jim Borsch. After a little time, bought 50 Buick Roadmaster. Sleeping in barge. Fire watches. Meet girl near Tennessee Street gate. Date… Skinny thing, black hair.