One Marine’s Life

By David Nay

“It was a wonderful life, complete with worldly adventures and my exceptional family”

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9781663229588

David Nay

Born: 29 November 1939 Education: Geneva College; Miami University, Oxford Ohio; Hawaii University, Honolulu Hawaii Military Service: US Navy, US Marine Corps (1957-1985) Employment: SAIC, Washington, DC; CIA, Technical Consultant

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ONE

MARINE’S

LIFE

LIEUTENANT COLONEL DAVID R. NAY USMC

One Marine’s Life

Copyright © 2023 David Nay.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical,

including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written

permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-2957-1 (sc)

           978-1-6632-2959-5 (hc)

         978-1-6632-2958-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023934467

iUniverse rev. date: 03/15/2023

DEDICATED TO MY PARENTS

Eugene D. and Mildred A. Nay

FOREWORD

The Pilot’s Prayer by John Gillespie Magee, Jr:

I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.

Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds, -and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,

I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.

Where never lark, or even eagle flew –

And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space.

Put out my hand and touched the face of God."

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Foreword

1957

1959

May 1959

1960

1961

Fall 1961

1963

September 1963

February 1964

1965

1967

1968

1970

1971

1972

1973

1975

1980

July 1985

1987

July 1987

Spring 1989

2012

2014

Spring 2019

FOREWORD

I had a stroke 20 April 2019. I spent from that date until 7 July in the New Hanover Regional Medical Center (NHRMC), Wilmington, North Carolina, when I was released to go home. During the time in the hospital, I got a chance to meet some great therapists, nurses, nurses’ assistants, and doctors. During one of the visits, by a night nurse, I was told I should author a book. She and I had spent time talking about my varied career. By coincidence, I had already thought of doing just that. I had initially met Howey Franklin, a former steward abroad Air Force One, when they were transporting myself and members of HMX-1 to the western White House, during the Nixon Administration. Mr. Franklin has authored a book detailing with his life and his service aboard Air Force One entitled Yes Sir, Mr. President. I have read his book twice. A member of my Sunday School Class sought him out and asked him if he would visit with me at my home. He graciously agreed and he came to the house. We sat and talked for two hours. When he left, I said to myself, Self, we’re going to write a book. I at once came up with the title One Marine’s Life.

While drafting this book, there were several things that I was not sure about, but it was amazing to me, that as I started thinking and writing about a certain time in my life, so many things popped up, as if it were yesterday. There are instances where I am sure I embellished for affect, so therefore this could be called the Fictious Life of One Marine. I have intentionally not placed certain names in the book, for fear that I would get the wrong name, or because I have not gotten each person’s permission to use his/her name. When I got into the part of life that dealt with the government, I intentionally left out names and exact locations, to help having the book approved.

The most exhilarating experience I have ever had in my life, was flying. To intentionally lift myself aloft into a situation where I had nothing but space all around me, and the ability to maneuver the craft in any direction. The senses received from flying can only be improved upon with more flying. I guess there has always been two things I ever wanted to do in life: 1) go to the United States Naval Academy and 2) learn how to fly. I fell short on the one and succeeded in the other. But as I say in this book, what may seem to be a defeat is merely a step along through the PERT Chart of life. I believe that in life we are given chances to make choices and through those choices we make, our destiny is defined by those decisions or the choices we make or that are made for us. Our life is laid out with defining moments where we must decide, or the decision is made for us. If you look back at your life you too can find these defining moments, which if a different decision had been made, your life would have gone in another direction. For example, while we were on an annual vacation to Cabins, West Virginia, I had always wanted to go to the Seneca Caverns which was near the campgrounds. When mom and dad said they were going to Seneca Caverns, I decided not to go. I would rather stay and swim in the river by our cabin. My choice to stay, resulted in a life being saved. I was there to save a young girl from drowning, when she got cramps and could not swim, and disappeared under the surface and did not come up. I pulled her to safety. She survived. Her parents submitted my name as a potential recipient of the Carnegie Medal. A year later I was awarded the Carnegie Medal.

Throughout my life there have been those decision points where I have made a choice and only in a few have I regretted the choice I had made. I will not go as far as to say my life has been ideal, but everything that I have experienced in my life has been noteworthy. I have lived my life to the best of my abilities. I have a wonderful wife, I have two wonderful children, two remarkable granddaughters and two grand cats to show for it all. I would like to believe that I have touched a few lives, along the way, in a unique way. I have enjoyed all academic level exchanges during my educational experiences, and those that I have had during my years teaching on a variety of subjects in my military/government career, as a Sunday School teacher, and as a coach of various sports during my life and in the lives of my children.

I hope you enjoy this book and that it might leave you with feeling; that you too, can have the life that people will say to you: You should write a book!

ONE MARINE’S LIFE

1939

I was born, Stanley Robert Horan, at the Women’s Hospital, in Washington DC on 29 November 1939. My mother gave me up to the orphanage in DC, from there I was adopted by Eugene and Mildred Nay in 1941. My new mom and dad were related to my birth mother. Dad was from a family consisting of 9 brothers and two sisters. He had graduated from Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (Pa.) as an Electrical Engineer and worked for Duquesne Light Power Company, in Rochester, Pa. Mom was from Pittsburgh (where they met), from a family of 3 sisters. Mom did not go to college but worked as a secretary/clerk. She was a terrific mom. I was taken with them to my new home at 699 6 th Street Beaver, Pennsylvania in Western Pennsylvania. My name was changed to David Robert Nay. Beaver is the County Seat of Beaver County. It is one of the smallest towns in the county but has the rare distinction of having no bars; however, we did have the largest distributor of wines and spirits in the county. Because of this distinction, no bars, we were referred to as the Cake Eaters, a rough and tumble name for one of Western Pa. football power houses. I was too small to play football, but I did play drums in the marching band. Our band had a good reputation in the county for being a premier band, having won many awards at band competitions. I have a brother and a sister. We got along quite well; however, there is a significant difference in our ages. My sister, Judy, was adopted in 1950, and my brother, John, was born in 1956. He was the natural son of Eugene and Mildred’s, a real Nay. I did not get to spend much time with them: however, the time we had together was very memorable. There were not periods in high school that are worthy of being noting in this document. However, there is one incident I will always remember: I was working at the scout camp in Marionville, Pa., preparing a campsite for the scouts that were arriving the following week. I saw our family car come up the road to the camp. My family got out of the car, and we met near the campsite. They had come to inform me that they were going to Florida. I had always wanted to go to Florida. It was evident I was upset, and I told them so. Mom in her mild manner informed me that I should not fret because in my lifetime I would travel more and see more of the world than she could ever read about in her National Geographic magazine’s. This did not make me feel any better. What insight! They drove away, I was upset, and nearly cried, but there was work that had to be done. As it turns out that statement could not have more of a predictor of my future than I ever could have imagined. My family got along quite well. We had many good times together. My brother and I used to wrestle. My sister and I spent time walking and talking. She was always authoring poems or short stories.

1957

O ne of my friends from high school was Wayne, he lived across the street. He played football and was a good offensive lineman, but he felt he was not good enough for a college football scholarship. After graduation, the two of us entered Geneva College in Beaver Falls, Pa. We both were enrolled in pre-engineering. Our class schedules included classes in math, engineering drawing, chemistry, literature, and religion. We drove to Geneva every day with four of our high school classmates. Wayne and I both tried out for cross country, but after numerous practices and one match, we decided we were not cut out to be cross country runners, since you were doing the running against the clock. They did not have a stopwatch that went that high. Miracles of miracles, Wayne and I lasted through the first academic year at Geneva, but our interest in school was waning.

Beaver is a one main street town with a main corner, formed by 3rd Street and College. Our town’s only stoplight was at this corner. On this corner, two stores down from Springer’s Drug Store, where I worked as a Soda Jerk, there was a grassy area with a pipe railing around it, where the guys spent time together, and discussed our concerns, thoughts on current events, what girls were available, and other topics which were of interest to boys at the time. Vietnam was becoming a news item, but the US was not involved yet. One evening, our discussions included the possibilities of enlisting in the military. We did not think either of us was going to win any academic awards, and we were not sure we would last out our next semester. We discussed our assorted options, to stay in school, or just take a road trip. After thinking on those options, and others, we returned to the idea of enlisting. We thought we would enlist in any of the military services, if we could get to travel, see the world, and if we joined the Navy, we could sail the seven seas. That sounded like something we might enjoy, so we decided we would go over to Rochester and see the Navy recruiter the following day.

The following day came, I drove (two houses down) over to meet Wayne at his house, said hello to his mom, then we got into the car, and started off for Rochester. Next stop the Navy recruiter. We entered the little store front which served all the armed forces recruiting stations. We asked for the Navy recruiter, and a Marine stood up. He had a chest full of medals, and his arm had many gold stripes. After we asked what it all meant, he informed us that the diagonal stripes stood for the number of years in the Marine Corps, each stripe was equal to 4 years of service. He had 5 of the diagonal stripes, 20 years. He said the insignia above the diagonal stripes was indicative of his grade, he was a Master Gunnery Sargent. He was the senior person in the office and asked if he could help us. We said we were interested in enlisting in the Navy. He asked if we would rather consider joining the Marine Corps. We both said that was not what we had in mind, we wanted to sail the Seven Seas and see the world. He gave a little chuckle, and then gave us some material outlining the enlistment programs that were available to us. He said we would need our parent’s permission if we were thinking about enlisting. We asked about his service. He had been in Japan, Okinawa to be specific, and Korea, as well as Hawaii and several stateside assignments. We thanked him for the information and left. Once outside and in the car, we decided to go to Bert’s for lunch. At Bert’s we ordered the barbecue special. We looked at the material we had gotten from the recruiter. Both of us were certain we were making the right decision, and we were going to talk to our parents that evening, then tomorrow we would go over and enlist in the Navy.

That evening after dinner, I asked dad if we could talk about something. He agreed. We sat in the living room, he lit his pipe and asked what was this all about. I told him about how Wayne and I thought we would join the Navy. He sat there for a few minutes, put his pipe down and got up from his chair. What was this? He made a phone call then came back to his chair and said, Since it is okay with Wayne’s dad, I guess I won’t stand your way, good luck. I was not too sure what to say. All I could say was Thank you! I explained we had to go to the recruiter station, in Rochester, tomorrow morning. I went up to my room, packed some clothes, said my prayers, and went to bed. Mom came back from choir practice and came up to my room. She said dad had told her what I wanted to do and if that were so, she would support that decision. I thanked her, gave her a big hug and kiss, and said Thank you! The next morning, I awoke to the smell of bacon. Why is that unusual, you might ask! Our household was on a strict weekly schedule of meals: Sunday – a roasted chicken with all the fixings; Monday – leftovers from Sunday; Tuesday – spaghetti, meat balls and salad; Wednesday – pancakes and bacon; Thursday – grilled cheese with bacon; Friday – usually homemade soup; and Saturday – everyone was on their own to make they wanted. So therefore, bacon for breakfast on Tuesday morning was special! We talked about what I was going to do, I helped with dishes, said goodbye, gave hugs and kisses, then dad and I left for the recruiters. We arrived at the recruiters just before Wayne and his dad. We asked each other if we still wanted to do this. We said, yes let’s do this! Without any hesitation we entered the recruiter station and was greeted by the Master Gunnery Sargent, we introduced him to our fathers. There was a brief discussion with our dads and then he turned to us said Are you positive that this is what you want to do? And not join the Marine Corps? We both looked at each other and then said, Yes and No! There was some laughter and then the Master Gunnery Sargent gave us a rundown of our schedule. After we are sworn in, we would catch the train for Chicago at the Beaver Rail Station at 1330. I will give you your tickets for the train, $20 cash, and chits for purchasing your meals. You should arrive in Chicago at 0730 tomorrow morning and there, you will be met by someone from the training center to take you both out to the Great Lakes Naval Training Center (GLNTC). After that we raised our right hand and took the oath of enlistment I, David Robert Nay, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States of America of all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me. We shook hands and departed. Recruits of the United States Navy!

We got on the 1300 train from Beaver to Chicago. The train ride was my first major trip out of Beaver, except for the trips to Fairmont, West Virginia, where dad’s family lives, scout camp at Marionville and the church camp, Jumonville, at Uniontown. The seats on the train were genuinely nice and we had access to the dining car, with cloth table coverings and real cloth napkins. What a treat. The scenery along the way was spectacular, grass fields and flowering hills, cattle all over, it was a city boy’s true adventure. And did I mention that cost of everything was taken care of through chits provided by the Master Gunnery Sargent. This military, or Navy life, was going to be more than Wayne or I had ever imagined. As we pulled into the train station in Chicago the next morning, we marveled at the size of the station. The station in Beaver had a small station building and only two sets of tracks. This station had at least ten sets of tracks, was in a big building, and a loudspeaker announcing trains coming and going into the station. Soon after the train stopped a service member in a Marine uniform came aboard and called out Seaman recruits Thomas and Nay! Wayne and I said together: Here we are. We were soon to regret that response. We were to say something different because he yelled at us and told us to get off the train, turn right and join the others. As we got off the train, we saw about twenty other guys our age standing outside, in two lines. We got at the rear of the group and waited with the others. We were not sure if we could talk, but we did anyway, introducing ourselves to a couple of the guys around us. After about thirty minutes the Marine, which had entered our train, brought about 10 other guys to join our group. and they surrounded us. Then he shouted Attention. We just stood there, looking at each other. He then spoke in a manner that made you want to listen, explaining just what Attention meant. That now, we were in the military, so he would explain. He showed us how we were supposed stand erect, with straight backs. He explained that we were to place our thumbs of each hand along the seams of our trousers and keep our eyes looking straight ahead. Then, when he shouted: Attention!. We all snapped to, assuming the position as he had just explained. He then said, As I say Forward March, you will step forward with your left foot and keep in step with a cadence I will provide left, right. Oh, my if this was the military, or the Navy life, what have I done?

The bus ride took about an hour. During that hour you could have heard a pin drop. No one said a word. It was like you might imagine a bus load of individuals being taken off to prison. When we drove under the arch Great Lakes Naval Training Center, our home for the next 12 weeks, I thought, what have I done. We got off the bus and at once formed our two lines. The Marine that was with us said, Welcome to your home for the next twelve weeks. It can be as enjoyable as a summer camp, or it can be your worst nightmare. I am Sargent Wright, USMC, and it is going be my privilege to be a part of your nightmare, or your camp counselor at this wonderful resort, where you will learn everything, about everything, you ever wanted to know about military life, and somethings you did not want to know about it. Remember, you are Seamen Recruits, there is nothing lower than a Seamen Recruit. Now, Attention! You will turn to the right and walk smartly to my count of left, right. Forward March! A phrase I imagined we would hear quite often. We arrived at what the Sargent Wright said was the chow hall where we were to have our lunch. It was a huge building about the size of a couple of football fields. There were a considerable number of guys in uniform already there. They made wise remarks to us as we passed them to the serving line. The serving lines were like a large cafeteria line. We were handed steel trays with five compartments. We were told to go through the line, hold our tray out, take what was placed on our tray by the persons behind the line, get our drinks and then go to the table as we were directed. The tables sat 8 persons, four to a side. The seats swiveled out so you could sit down. Sargent Wright said we had thirty minutes to eat. The meal was a little bit of everything, meat, potatoes and gravy, carrots, and spiced cake, all thrown together. There seemed to have been no purpose for the tray compartments since all was dumped together on the tray. I was lucky to not get any on my clothes. Welcome to the Navy life!

We completed lunch and then went outside and got into our two lines; however, this time, we were told to arrange ourselves from the tallest to the shortest, left to right. Once we had done that, we heard the now all familiar: Attention, Left Face, Forward March. After 30 minutes or so we heard Halt. We were in front of building that said, Barber Shop. We entered the building single file and stood behind the ten barber chairs. One at a time they shaved our heads, we were now officially skin heads. We formed up in our two lines and heard those solemn words, Attention, Right Face, Forward March! This time we stopped in front of sign that said Dispensary. We entered the building, went into a large room, where we were told to strip down to our underwear, carry our clothes in our right hand, and form a line to the right. There were five men in white coats, who checked us from head to toe, had us cough when one of them grabbed our private parts, then he said, turn around, bend over, spread your cheeks. The only time I had ever had that done was back home at a medical exam and therefore I was not surprised when he stuck something up my rear end. Then we entered another room where there was this pretty nurse, armed with a gun of sorts, she smiled ever so nicely and placed gun on my left shoulder and ‘wham!’ It really hurt, but the line kept moving. We got dressed, went outside, and formed our two lines. Again, we heard those, now, familiar words and we did what the Sargent said and off we went. We stopped in front of another building with sign that said, Supply. Inside they asked each of us our waist, height, neck size, what our hat size was and then what was our shoe size. We got a large canvas duffel bag, they called it a sea bag. We filled it with three towels and a washcloth and all the clothes they gave us, and two sheets, one blanket, one pillow and a pillowcase. We went outside formed our two lines, slung the sea bag over our shoulder, and hearing those now familiar words, we marched (I assume you could call it marching) off to our next destination.

The next destination turned out to be our barracks. We were on the second floor, in a large room, with single beds lined up and down each side of the room, with foot lockers at the foot of each bed. We went in and stood by the bed where we arrived, in keeping with our lineup. The Sargent told us to place our sea bag on the lockers, and remove the sheets, the blanket and pillow. A sailor dressed in the Navy whites with the scarf, was with the Sargent. He was going to show us how to make up our racks. When he was done, he took a quarter out of his pocket, and bounced it off the made-up rack. "When you make up your rack, see if can bounce a quarter off yours. I was thinking, why would I want to bounce a quarter off my bed? When he was done, he removed the sheets and blanket and gave them to that individual, for him to now make up his own bed. We were then told we had 1 hour to make our bed and then wash up for evening mess. An hour later we formed up outside in our two lines, and off we marched to the mess hall. We were given what seemed like a break, the Sargent gave us a whole hour for dinner. The dinner was fried chicken and all the fixings, with peach cobbler and ice cream. After the hour we formed our two lines and marched back to the barracks. Upon arrival we were told to assemble in the recreation room of the barracks and the Sargent said he was going to tell us how to put our clothes in the locker boxes. I assumed we would just throw them in and that would be it. Boy was I wrong. The Sargent took an hour showing how you folded the clothes and how you placed them in the locker box. Underwear had to be folded in thirds, socks had their special folds, shirts were to be folded with a fold crease down the middle of each breast pocket, and trousers had to be folded on the seams. Miscellaneous items were placed on the bottom, not visible when the locker box was opened. When we were finished with the class, we were informed lights out at 2200 (10 PM). This left only enough time for a shower, to put our clothes away, and read a little in my Bible, then go to bed. End of the first day.

The next day started with a loud noise in the barracks. Somebody was beating on the trash cans and yelling about getting up, showering, shaving and be outside in formation in 45 minutes. You have never seen 30 guys move so fast. Beds made, bouncing a quarter as we had been instructed, getting dressed in our new clothes, and shoes. We made the appointed time, and Sargent Wright came out, and said those words we will never forget: Attention, Right Face, Forward March. We thought we were on our way to the chow hall, but instead we went to a large, asphalted area, called the grinder, where there were other groups of recruits present. After Halt, we were told to take two arms-length distances from each other. We then began a series of exercises; jumping jacks, running in place, push ups and then we started to run around the grinder. We did one lap, which I later found out it was 1 mile. We ended our little run just across from the chow hall. We marched to the entrance way and then entered single file to the serving line, got our metal trays and then went through the serving line. Breakfast was tossed onto our five compartment trays, why they have compartments I will never know. After they pileup our trays with what resembled, something (I will not speculate). The mound was a mixture of scrambled eggs, sausage gravy, link sausages, oatmeal (turned out to be grits), and two pieces of toast. We went to the same tables where we had sat last night at dinner. We were told we had 30 minutes to eat and then form up out in front of the mess hall.

30 minutes came and it found all 30 of us in our formation. Then we heard the familiar words again, Attention, Right Face, Forward March. Instead of running around the grinder, we marched around it, doing obliques, left and right, to the rear, columns right and columns left. I do not know for how far or how long we did that. Then we continued marching to the armory. Here we were issued a rifle, an M-1, with sling, and a serial number. Mine was 213054, I would remember that number for rest of my life, along with my service number 491-10-47. We got our rifle and got into our formation. We were instructed on the various maneuvers under arms: right shoulder, left shoulder, parade rest, port arms and of course marching under arms. Next, we sat down on the grinder and were instructed on how to sight the weapon, trigger pull technique, and firing positions, standing, kneeling, prone and sitting. After about two and half hours, we got into formation, slung our rifles over our left shoulder and then proceeded to the chow hall. Once at the chow hall we learned how to stack our weapon. After we stacked the rifles, we were going into the mess hall, everyone except Wayne and I, we were going to stand guard over the rifles. After 30 minutes we were relieved by two other guys from our platoon, and Wayne and I then got our second evening meal. After dinner we got into our formation, with our rifles, and proceeded to the barrack. We got to the barrack in record time because we went to ‘port arms’, and then doubled timed to the barracks. When we arrived at the barracks, we were told to gather 30 minutes later in the recreation room in the barracks and bring our rifles. Now we were going to find out why the wooden racks were in the room. I was correct to a point, what the racks were for, was a small detail, the main reason we met in the recreation room was so we could learn how to strip a rifle, clean it, and then reassemble the rifle, without having any extra parts. When we finished that we placed our M-1’s in the rack, were dismissed, and informed lights out would be at 2200 hrs.

The next day started like the last two with Sargent Wright banging on the trash cans and giving us 45 minutes to get everything done in the barracks and still make formation. The main difference was this morning we had to get our rifle. We were getting familiar with the routine, even this early in our first week of recruit training. We got to attention, and then port arms. And double timed over to the grinder, stacked the rifles and then started PT. This routine became the usual, until the third week when were introduced to KP. This meant we were assigned to the mess hall for the likes of cleaning the pots and pans, scrubbing the floors, and serving line duty. Ah, it was our turn to treat those going through the line, to our sad attempts at getting the food in the five spaces on the tray. We spent twelve hours a day for the next seven days. We learned that the other half of our platoon was going to the rifle range and doing PT. The next week we changed tasks. The usual day began with PT then a port arms quick time march to the range. The first day we spent going over the firing positions, while dry firing our rifles at steel barrels with targets painted on them. The reminder, of the week we fired our rifles with live ammunition. I was amazed at my abilities with the rifle. I qualified as an expert by the end of the week. The last day, when we arrived at the barracks there was a note on the activity board that they were having tryouts for the drum and bugle corps. I asked the Sargent if I could tryout. He said yes and try outs were this Saturday morning. I attended the tryouts and was selected as member of the Great Lakes Naval Training Center Drum and Bugle Corps. This was a chance to get away from all the constant regimen, at least I thought it would be that way. Our practices were every other night including marching and playing in parades on Saturdays. It did give me an opportunity to get off base from time to time. We performed in local functions in, Chicago. Illinois, Kenosha, Wisconsin as well other locations.

Once the routine was established it became very rote in performing the military aspect of training. In fact, what seemed like a horrible mistake, was turning into a good adventure that Wayne and I still had no regrets. During the eleventh week of training, they gave us a class on what options were available for our selection of a military occupational specialty (MOS). Wayne selected Aviation Electronics training and I selected to attend Hospital Corpsman School. During week 12 we were advised that our selections had been accepted. Wayne would leave for Treasure Island or Monterey, California for 20-26 weeks, upon graduation, while I would remain at GLINT to attend the hospital corpsman school for 12 weeks. Graduation day came, we conducted the graduation ceremony/parade on the grinder, which had some good and some bad memories. Wayne and I said our goodbyes, he to the airport and I across the street where the corpsman school is located.

I went across the street to check in. I had been promoted to Seaman at the graduation ceremony, so check in was a little easier than recruit training. I was assigned a room in the barracks for the corpsman school. A room to myself was more than I could have hoped for, after barracks life at recruit training. I received my schedule that began the next day at 0800; however, no PT was on the schedule. Classes were scheduled through the day until 1700 with a myriad of subjects, anatomy, chemistry, wound dressing, administering shots and various other subjects. Each class was to last for an hour with 10 minutes break until the next class. I also learned there were to be exams every week, and homework! I felt like I might have selected the wrong MOS. After the first day, I knew I was in the wrong MOS, but I decided this was what I wanted to do, so I told myself I would put in the effort and see what happens. The first test, in every subject, was on Friday. The tests lasted an hour, just like the classes. It turned out the tests were in fact, a review of all the subject material we had covered through the week. Surprisingly, I did quite well, I found out that studying made quite a difference. If I had studied this same way in high school, who knows what I would now be doing with my life. The school was interesting, and included time spent on the floor in the hospital, I thought most rewarding. This was going to be interesting beyond my wildest dreams. The best part was we had nothing to do on the weekend, except studying and having a little fun.

I took the first weekend to go outside the gates and see what there was to offer. Not much, except for bars, uniform shops, tattoo parlors, restaurants and other little shops selling memorabilia. The guys and I went into a bar, had few beers, and decided to go to one of the restaurants we all seemed to like. It was tasty food, a lot better than chow hall food. We finished dinner and went back to the barracks. I got changed to workout clothes and went for a run around the grinder. It seemed weird doing this without Sargent Wright yelling something in your ear. The next day was Sunday. I got up early, went to the chow hall for breakfast, nice and leisure like with no time limits. I went to the base chapel for the Protestant service. After that I went to the barracks to study. At 1700 I went over to the chow hall and met with the other students in my classes. We decided after dinner we would go a movie at the base theater. Admission was only 10 cents and a bag popcorn, and a Coke was a quarter. What a deal!

Corpsmen school was exceedingly difficult and required a great deal of studying. Something I never had to do in high school. But as time went on, I really liked the field of medicine. With all my current experience, the subject was the same as being in nursing training. As for my studies in the various classes I was pleased with my class standing. Doing duty on the ward was interesting. I remember we had one individual who had been in the ward since I started. Every day at 1500 he got a shot in his rear. One day we entered the room to give him his shot and he was laying on his stomach with his butt up in the air. On his butt he had drawn a bullseye. He said, Bet you cannot score a bullseye! So, I held the syringe about 24" above the bullseye, dropped it, and hit the center circle. The patient let out a yell! During the tenth week I was in the Exchange and saw an announcement that there was going to be a test given on Saturday for entrance into the Naval Academy Preparatory School. This was interesting because I had always wanted to go to the Naval Academy. I got permission to take the exam, and on Saturday I took the exam. It was eight hours long with a one-hour break for lunch. The exam was remarkably like the college board exams with a math section, an English word definition section, a reading comprehension section and one last section on word comparative, such as hand is to glove as foot is to shoe, but they were not that easy. Some of the words I had never heard of or seen before, let alone make comparisons of them. Once the test was over, I went to town for a beer and a hot dog. I was very tired because it had been exhausting.

The next two weeks went by very quickly. The final exams were the most difficult exams I could imagine. I found out that this exam could decide if I remained as a corpsman or would go elsewhere. I checked out the postings of the scores and my standing at the end of the class. I was number two, I could select my next assignment, plus I was promoted to Petty Officer, 3rd Class. I thought it would be neat to be a hospital corpsman with the Marine Corps. I was granted an assignment to the Naval Hospital at Camp Jejune, North Carolina. My trip to Camp Jejune was another train, in reverse. I had stopped off in Beaver to see my family and friends. After several days at home, I left for Camp Lejeune, via train, I will not bore you with a description of trip and checked in and received my room assignment. I was further informed that I was to attend an orientation the next morning at 0700. The next morning, I had breakfast at the hospital chow hall, which was more like a restaurant, it was not like any chow I had been to so far. The briefing was at 0700 in the hospital conference room. There were 20 of us, newly assigned corpsmen, in attendance. The Chief Petty Officer told us what our duties were going to be here at the hospital. Additionally, he gave us information so that we could complete the check-in procedure. After his briefing he asked that three of us remain in the conference room. The Chief congratulated the three of us for being selected for Fleet Marine Force Atlantic, and specifically to the Regiment, here on Camp Lejeune. We were to take our gear and report the Sargent-Major by 1300 today, we would be given our duties and assigned to quarters with the regiment.

I went down to my room to pack and then I went to the chow hall for lunch. After that I got the hospital driver to take to the Regimental Headquarters. The other guys had also asked for the driver to take them to the headquarters also. It was short ride, only lasted 15 minutes. We reported to the administrative office, with our transfer orders, and then we were told to take a seat, minutes later someone would be coming to take us to the Sargent-Major’s office. Shortly a Corporal came to the office and said to follow him. We went two buildings down and entered the offices of the Regimental Commanding Officer and the Sargent-Major. We entered his office one at time, he spent 15 minutes with each of us, and I should have known, I would be last. I was a nervous wreck by the time he called me in to the office. I stood at the front of his desk, and said Hospital Corpsmen 3rd Class Nay, reporting Sir. He gave me a cordial welcome to the Regiment and said he hoped I would have a successful tour of duty. He said I would have the luxury of spending time with the presently assigned corpsmen for a couple of days before he left for his new assignment in Okinawa, Japan. The corporal who had escorted the three of us was told to take me to Commanding Officer, 1st Battalion. I was dismissed and I told the Sargent-Major thanks and left with the corporal. Upon arriving at the 1st Battalion office, I was met by another Sargent-Major. He told me go over to admin and check-in, then over to supply and get a real uniform, I was with the Marine