Though my orders were to Adak, I was required to visit the Naval Security Group Command (NAVSECGRUCOM) 40 Department on Nebraska Avenue in Washington, DC, prior to departing for Adak. I had to go twice.

I spent nearly two hours in the morning and again in the afternoon traveling between FT Meade and NAVSECGRUCOM. I dreaded the thought of an assignment here and facing the daily drive.

While visiting, I learned a lieutenant in the 40 Department met the requirements to go to Adak, but his department head prevented it. So, the detailer went down the list to me… short-touring me. The typical tour at NSA was three years for enlisted and for officers. I was completing two years there as an officer, so being given orders now met the definition of a short tour.

The 40 Department Staff briefed me that I would fly to Adak, relieve the Electronic Material Officer (EMO), and then report to Naval Security Group Activity, Skaggs Island, California, to attend an (EMO) conference. I had to report in early October to meet this requirement.

I flew to Elmendorf, Alaska, where I changed to a Reeve Aleutian Airlines plane. Reeve served many locations in Alaska and was known for their bush pilots. The flight landed in Adak in the early afternoon. The lieutenant I was relieving met me, and we spent the rest of the day touring the base, meeting the Commanding Officer, and discussing other job-related things.

The next flight from Adak took me to Elmendorf, where I transferred to a flight to San Francisco, California. There, I rented a car at the airport and drove to the Skaggs Island site to attend the EMO conference.

Before I left home for Adak, Lori and I planned for her to join me in California. While I met with my counterparts at the conference, she toured Napa Valley wineries with some of her cousins and did other things I don’t remember. One day near the end of the conference, Lori and I visited San Francisco, saw the sights, and rode the cable cars. The conference finished, and Lori headed home while I returned to Adak.

Back on the island, I began learning about my department. A Senior Chief Petty Officer (SCPO) ran the office, assisted by Petty Officer (PO) Third Class from the Administrative Department. The department had three divisions, two led by Chief Petty Officers (CPO) and one by a PO First Class. I had fifty-five men and women out of sixty-three billets. Later in the tour, I found that eighty-seven percent of manning caused a problem later in the tour.

When I took over the department, there were qualified technicians working days and staffed the watch sections. Things remained stable until eight of the female Petty Officers became pregnant. Medical gave them limited duty “chits.” There were limits on what they could lift, how long they could stand, and what hours they could work. This disrupted watch section personnel assignments and made allowing leave or days off a problem. It required some innovative personnel assignments, but we met the women’s and operation’s needs.

Being on an unaccompanied tour, they assigned me a room in the Bachelor Officer Quarters (BOQ). I settled into my room, unpacking and setting up my Amiga computer, which I used to play games and write programs with the C and FORTRAN language compilers I brought. What programs I wrote are a mystery (time dulls the memory), but it kept me from complete boredom.

Anyone who read the previous sections knows I have never been away from the family for long. The longest was on transfers. I went first to Iceland, Pensacola, and Panama. In each case, Lori came after I had housing for the family.

Though intended to be eighteen consecutive months apart, it turned out there was a project that had me return to Washington, DC, several times, and I could combine them with leave. The first meeting was in December 1987, and I took leave injunction and was home for Christmas. Over the eighteen months, I got three free trips home, making life easier for the family and me.

The major military construction project moved operations from the Zeto Point building to a mountain slope site. The meetings I mentioned were to coordinate between the site and NAVSECGRUCOM. An operations officer and I, representing the site, gave the status of our preparations for the move, and our hosts told us about their preparations.

The preparations made on and off the island resulted in a smooth transition to the new location. The weather cooperated with low-velocity winds when we moved the antennas and their large antenna domes. Their move was one thing we were most concerned about. The rest of the equipment de-installation and subsequent reinstallation went smoothly. The operations and management staff received letters of commendation for completing the move and returning to operations thirty days earlier than planned. Unfortunately, we found out later that we missed an important item.

A heavy rain kept me in my room until I got a frantic call from the Classic Wizard division officer. She called to tell me that my technicians were powering down the equipment and shutting off power to the building. There were inches of water under the raised flooring the equipment sat on, and a danger of reaching the underfloor power distribution boxes.

We had installed the antennas on the mountainside above the building and the cable antenna team placed the cables from the antennas into trenches and ducting. Our public works dug the trenches directly to the building, creating a sluice for the rainwater to reach and enter the building. Our public works department took several days to create a breakwater and dig trenches to redirect water away from the building. While they worked, we pumped out the flood water. It took several days to get back in operation.

My first interaction with my Commanding Officer (CO), a Navy captain, came a few days after I returned from the EMO conference. He visited each department for a weekly brief. I was touring the building when my administrative assistant found me and told me the CO was waiting in my office. I was late for an appointment with the CO.

So I returned to my office and apologized for not being there when he arrived. I settled and asked how I could help him. The Captain reminded me I should read the Plan of the Week, and I would know when he would visit. I remained outwardly calm, but I suspect my face was red. Inside, my stomach was roiling, full of all manner of insects.

Unprepared to brief my department’s status, I asked for a moment. I used that moment to bring my Department Senior Chief into the office and directed him to brief the CO. I learned the status of my department as he informed the Captain.

Before the CO left, he complimented me for not trying to bluff my way through. His last comment was to tell me this was my department, and I was to run it as I saw fit. The only proviso was operations must be our primary focus.

The Captain never came to my office for another briefing. Apparently, he was happy with how I ran the department and never felt a need to.

My first staff meeting was fun for me. I brought in the department SCPO, and the CPOs in charge of three divisions. Each of them briefed the happenings in their division related to personnel and equipment status. After they finished, I watched them as I told them how I intended to run the department.

I am not a micromanager. I told the division CPOs that they ran their divisions. They would ensure their people did their best to keep equipment running and operations happy. Then, I floored them when I said they had the authority to grant time off to their personnel, even to grant three-day passes. I saw the confusion on several faces before the department SCPO questioned his hearing.

It seemed only my predecessor could grant time off. I told them to manage their personnel, their schedules, and their personnel’s time off. Don’t abuse it, and they will continue to have this authority.

Some things that happened tested my confidence, making me wonder if I should have retired instead of taking the commission.

Lord knows I am basically a people person. I avoided real personnel issues during my enlisted time for over nineteen years. The officers above me dealt with them except when I was department head in Panama, I had no personnel issues there. Now, I was the officer who had to deal with personnel issues.

I was on Adak for less than two weeks when someone knocked, waking me. The visitor was a security person asking me to come to the quarterdeck. There, I learned from the duty officer that one of my female Third Class Petty Officers (PO) attempted suicide.

She had walked into the lagoon, intending to drown. The medical staff took her to the hospital for evaluation before sending her to Elmendorf. I never met the woman and never got a replacement to fill the vacancy she caused.

The Classic Wizard CPO came one day with a personnel issue he couldn’t solve. Much like when I was a CPO, he wanted the officer, me, to handle it. The problem was a Second Class Petty Officer with orders to Japan who refused to be tested for HIV. In 1988, the Navy required the test for one to serve in Japan. The PO claimed a religious exemption, but only for this test. He accepted other vaccinations and blood tests without complaint.

I directed the CPO to order the PO to have the test, and if he refused to “write him up” for refusing a direct order. So, the stubborn PO faced Captain’s Mast for refusing the order. As his Department Head, I counseled him to ensure he understood the ramifications of refusing the test. After that interview, I provided the Captain with my recommendation for punishment fitting for the offense. Thankfully, the PO changed his mind and took the HIV test, and he avoided Captain’s Mast.

Another time, the officer in charge of the command security department notified me base security had arrested one of my POs on a driving under the influence (DUI) charge. Well, my CO had no tolerance for anyone DUI. Those caught faced a Captain’s Mast and punishments, including a reduction in rank and a hefty fine.

I faced a dilemma. The PO was going to Captain’s Mast, and I had to provide a recommendation for punishment. What should I recommend?

The man was a third-class PO who had taken the promotion exam and was waiting for the results. He would receive orders to a base in Puerto Rico near his home if he passed the test and was selected for promotion.

The investigator’s report said he drove himself and some friends to the club on the main base. One of his friends was the designated driver who would drive his car back to the barracks. However, the designated driver and other friends found another ride back, leaving the PO several miles from the barracks with a car he shouldn’t drive. Prudence said don’t drive, but he did, and Military Police pulled him over. He received a ticket for driving under the influence of alcohol. The report also reported that the PO attended college classes twice weekly and drove to class.

I asked the man’s division officer for his thoughts. He spoke highly of the PO, calling him one of his best technicians. I checked, and the man’s evaluations reflected his professionalism and technical ability.

So, I debated what to recommend in my input to the Captain’s Mast. If the man suffered a reduction in rank, it would cost him the orders home. Restriction to barracks would prevent him from attending classes, while the loss of pay would hurt.

Finally, after much soul-searching, I sent my recommendation to the Captain and worried about what the Captain would think of it.

At the Captain’s Mast, the PO received a lecture outlining the Captain’s feelings about DUI and the punishments he gave to others. Then, the Captain told the man my firm support for the defendant as the reason the man received the punishments he did now.

He didn’t reduce his rate but took one-half month’s pay for two months. The CO also restricted him to barracks for thirty days, but allowed the man to drive to college classes. I felt pride when I realized the captain had accepted my recommendations. This saga ended when the man was promoted and received orders to Puerto Rico.

Adak is an island in the Aleutians. Besides a military base, half the island was, and still is, an animal refuge.

The Navy stationed a squadron of P-3 Orion aircraft on the island, which conducted anti-submarine patrols in nearby and further waters. The immediate area around the only airport on the island contained housing for dependents, barracks for the unaccompanied, the officer and enlisted clubs, the Navy Exchange, a personnel office, and other facilities making up a Naval Air Facility.

I lived in the Bachelor Officers Quarters (BOQ) “downtown,” which referred to the Air Facilities area. My transportation on the island was a red Cherokee that I shipped from home. The four-wheel capability proved helpful after each snowfall. I remember getting stuck only once at the operations building. I pulled through a pile of snow covering my parking place. When I went to leave, I learned I couldn’t. Unfortunately, the Jeep was on a patch of ice, and the snowbank slightly lifted the Jeep, taking away the traction needed to pull itself off the snowbank. Thankfully, it was watch change, and several enlisted sailors helped push me out.

Coming from the BOQ, I had to go up a steep hill to get to work. It wasn’t usually a problem, but occasionally, it became snow and ice-covered. Then, there was an agreed-upon process the commuters used. We would line up a safe distance from the bottom of the hill and let one vehicle attempt climbing the hill. Four-wheel and all-wheel vehicles often made it by going slowly in low gear. My jeep always made the hill, LOL, but many other cars ended up parked out of the way at the bottom of the hill, and their driver caught a ride to work.

The time came to transfer, and I had to arrange the shipment of my car and personal effects. I neared an intersection after a recent storm and found the Jeep skidded on the ice when I braked. Complicating things, there was a car coming on the crossroad. I feared not stopping in time and that we would collide. I had nothing to lose, so I stopped trying to brake. To my surprise, the Jeep gained traction, and I steered behind the car as it crossed in front of me. I had avoided the accident and later scheduled the shipments.

Bowling and working on my computer were my primary entertainment. I joined a league for a night out. Usually, when not making unscheduled evening or night visits to my work centers, I worked on developing a program to keep bowling stats.

My department had a cabin for social events. The division officers could reserve it for parties or cookouts. Whenever one scheduled such, I felt obligated to stop in for “morale” purposes. I routinely stayed only long enough to have my favorite drink, Coca-Cola. Leaving kept me from seeing things that were better not seen by a department head.

An interesting fact about Adak is the number of eagles there. There was rarely a time when there weren’t several around the dumpsters behind the barracks and mess hall. Too often, they found something to scavenge from bags left outside the dumpsters.

I haven’t mentioned the fishing. The Morale Welfare and Recreation (MWR) department had an ocean-going boat and scheduled deep-water fishing trips. Several of my sailors went on fishing trips and returned with their catch, usually cod fish. The catch was such that we had a department fish fry at the cabin. I have to admit that I stuffed myself with beer-battered fish every chance I got.

There was more fishing during the salmon run each year. People, even those who didn’t fish, would go to the river to watch the salmon struggling upriver. We heard, “Did you see that?” when an eagle snatched a salmon from the river and flew off with it. I am not a salmon lover and never attended a department salmon party.

Previously, I mentioned the EMO conference in California, but I failed to relate how attending the conference led to my next assignment.

One instructor working for me when I was a course manager in Pensacola, Florida, was at the conference. She was also a Chief Warrant Officer and had orders to Naval Security Group Activity, Potomac.

I had just learned from the detailer who was also there that my next assignment was to the 40 Department at NAVSECGRUCOM. I wasn’t happy about these orders because of the travel time to and from my home.

The Chief Warrant approached me one day and asked if I would be interested in exchanging orders. She wanted to serve with her husband at NAVSECGRUCOM. I saw the benefit to them and had no reason for refusing, and the detailer changed our orders as we requested.

NAVSECGRUACT, Potomac, was on the Naval Research Laboratory campus. The drive to it was easier and quicker than the one to headquarters, so I made out. I will relate other benefits gained by exchanging orders.

March 1989 came, and I boarded the “Freedom Flight,” so called because I was leaving the island for the last time. The flight included a stop on Shemya Island before continuing to Elmendorf. Shemya Island is farther from mainland Alaska and closer to Russia than Adak.

I sat in the first row, directly across from the stewardess, on takeoff and landing. Nearing Shemya, the stewardess took her seat as we prepared to land. Then, the co-pilot leaned out and told her the weather on Shemya was low ceiling with crosswinds and the runway was icy. He finished by telling her we would still land.

I am not a great fan of flying and hearing this didn’t increase my appreciation for it. Well, my writing this shows I, we, survived the landing. I will say the pilots showed great skill as they turned the plane into the crosswind as we touched down and slowed while keeping us on the icy landing strip. Most impressive was we stopped next to the terminal. Landing in these conditions was likely one reason Reeve hired bush pilots.

I would prefer to tell that the rest of the trip home was without incident, but can’t. We arrived in Elmendorf, and I went to make my connection only to learn they had canceled the flight because no planes had arrived from the States. The weather had closed several airports in Washington State and Illinois. My “freedom flight” flew, but I was still stuck in Alaska for a day or so.

My plane finally arrived, and I left Alaska, never to return. So, the next segment of my life experience was at the Naval Security Group Activity, Potomac, Washington, District of Columbia.

I was not enamored with my transfer to the Washington, DC area. I knew it was the hub of politics and more expensive than other duty stations.

When I checked into the command, I learned that though assigned to NSGA, FT Meade, I would work within one of the NSA Groups. The command assignment officer assigned most enlisted to groups doing direct support. A senior Chief Petty Officer Cryptologic Maintenance Technician and Navy enlisted code for AN/UYK-3 would mark me as an anomaly in a direct support organization.

The assignment officer had other plans for me. He had called me in Panama and asked if he could experiment with my assignment. I continued to agree, and he selected several NSA groups for me to interview with. He wanted one to ask for me.

I remember having several interviews that described jobs I thought would lead to boredom. It wasn’t until I interviewed with a C-Group GS-15 that I felt I found a job that would be challenging and rewarding.

C-Group was also the National Computer Security Center (NCSC), recently established under President Reagan’s direction. I interviewed in an office in OPS 1, but he told me the organization was moving to Airport Square 11 shortly.

I would not be directly working for the GS-15. As the only enlisted in my group, C-3,  I would report to an Air Force Major, though my task remained the same.

I would create two new computer laboratories in the new building. One was for classified computer systems, and the other was for unclassified computers. Part of the challenge was identifying the power and air conditioning requirements for the group’s computers and those they intended to procure soon. Without saying, I became excited with the prospect and committed to the position.

I had the list of equipment owned by the group and began creating the power and air conditioning requirements. Then, I received a list of known future systems that required modifying the requirements. We gave NSA Public Works my list, and they provided a schedule for completing the work.

While Public Works installed the power busses under a raised floor, I created the layout for the computer systems. I also designed the offices that the computer staff would use. Finally, I worked with the NSA on the communications interfaces.

The classified computers would be available via network connections to the computer scientists working on the second and third floors. The unclassified computers are connected to a phone bank, allowing people to call and connect. With plans firmed and work underway, it was August and time for me to leave for Pensacola. More on this later.

I came to NSGA FT Meade unaccompanied. Lori and the children stayed with her parents while I waited for housing. It would become fascinating.

I arrived at the command as a Chief Petty Officer (CPO E-7.) I was placed on the housing list reflecting this. Then, word came of my selection to Warrant Officer with promotion on August 1, 1985. The housing office staff were now in a quandary.

Should they assign me a house based on my current rank of E-7 or one for a junior officer? I would barely settle into the first before they would move me to the latter. I petitioned for the latter, not wanting to move twice, and they placed me on the junior officer housing list.

I took leave at Christmas time and drove to Texas to bring the family to Maryland to stay with friends from Panama until the quarters were ready. It allowed DJ and Tiffany to start school in January.

We moved into quarters in junior officer housing. We were the only enlisted family in this group of quarters. Most of our neighbors accepted us without reservation. However, another was upset with the presence of an “enlisted” living in officer territory. Lori and I ignored them and basked in the acceptance of the others. We settled into life at FT Meade, and the days passed.

It was 1985. The president had commissioned all Navy Chief Warrant Officers 2- 4 for many years. However, the Secretary of the Army gave Army warrant officers warrants. It created issues since a presidential commissioned warrant would be senior to a warranted officer regardless of service branch. In 1986, the laws changed so that all warrants, regardless of service branch, were commissioned as they created an additional warrant rank, Chief Warrant Officer 5’s.

The detailer responsible for junior officer assignments contacted me. He wanted my assignment preferences once commissioned as a Chief Warrant Officer 2. I stated I wanted to remain in my present position.

The Navy’s policy was to relocate individuals when newly commissioned. The reason was the person commissioned would now be senior to those they had worked for. The person taking orders would now be giving them. This situation could cause issues for the new officer and their now subordinates.

I, and the command assignment officer, assured the Navy detailer that there would not be this problem for me. I was the only enlisted member in the entire C-Group at that time. Also, the C-3 director submitted a by-name request for me to return. Considering these inputs, the detailer agreed I would return to my position after completing the US Navy’s Limited Duty Officer (LDO)/Chief Warrant Officer Indoctrination Course (CWO) in Pensacola, Florida.

My commissioning ceremony to Chief Warrant Officer 2 was on August 1, 1985. My wife, children, and several of my neighbors witnessed the ceremony.

The car packed, and we set off on another adventure.

My next assignment as a Chief Petty Officer (CPO) was to Galeta Island as the Electronics Material Officer (EMO.) It was my first tour as Department Head. The department performed preventative and corrective maintenance on the High-Frequency Direction Finder equipment and other systems.

The command structure placed department heads behind the commanding and executive officers at the third level. Although a CPO, my authority within my department was comparable to that of the Operations Department’s lieutenant.

A CPO assisted me in running the department, and a Petty Officer First Class (First Class) managed each shop. For the life of the tour, the shop supporting the communication equipment gave me the most headaches.

The department’s most senior and technically knowledgeable first-class was the manager for the Comms shop. I regularly counseled him to allow his subordinates to tackle the more complex problems with the comm’s equipment. He too often stepped in and performed the troubleshooting and repair himself instead of using the opportunity to train his crew. Though he had high marks as a technician, those for his leadership suffered some. Writing his evaluations was one of my hardest things on this tour.

A technician surprised me one day by telling me he found my name inside the AN/UYK-3 computer cover. He was doing maintenance and noticed my name listed on the cover. It was the computer I struggled to keep operational while in Iceland. Apparently, it preferred the warmth of Panama to the cold of Iceland, for it gave the technicians no problems.

Though my department was responsible for maintaining the electronic systems, the commanding officer sought my technicians for other tasks. One such task was laying concertina wire around the command’s perimeter. I didn’t think this was an appropriate use of my staff, but we did the task with proficiency and efficiency.

I learned the command had a computer and printer. No one used it because of a lack of software. I remedied this by writing a program to maintain the inventory for the supply department. I also incorporated a way for the department to produce orders for replacements automatically. They used it for maybe a week before giving up on it. It seemed they felt the old methods were more productive—a time before computers became common.

My affinity for computers drove me to request permission to bring the computer system to my office. I used the word processor to write correspondence at first. Then, I wrote a program that I used to submit personnel evaluations. Printing the submission and sending it up the chain of command was easy. Then, it was easy to revise with the changes sent back to me. Before long, I lost the computer to the administrative department after they saw how beneficial it was to me. I would have been upset losing it if Naval Security Group Command (headquarters) hadn’t sent me a more modern computer for my department’s use.

Galeta Island is off the Atlantic side of Panama, near Colon, Panama. The command occupied an area near the ocean, with its private beach.

Besides EMO, I was the Emergency Response Officer. The command agreed with the School of America to send an emergency reaction force (army special forces) if we were attacked. Our location near the water created multiple vulnerabilities.

The command conducted an emergency drill one evening. I was notified at home and drove out to the operations building. A Marine sentry stopped me at the entry gate. I learned later that while I waited, a marine on the roof had his loaded rifle pointed at me. Finally, the sentry allowed me into the compound after verifying my identity. Thankfully, the rooftop marine didn’t have an itchy trigger finger.

The command’s housing was in Coco Solo. NSGA Galeta Island suffered a drawdown of mission and personnel due to Fiscal Year 1974 budget constraints. But by the time I arrived, it was having a rebirth in mission assignments and gaining personnel.

Our assigned quarters were a three-bedroom, first-floor apartment in a four-apartment building. We had parking for our car below the apartment. The unit had a windowed room running the apartment length and facing the bay. We could stand or sit here and watch ships waiting to transit the Panama Canal.

There was a seawall in front of our quarters. There was a small beach on the other side suitable for fishing. We sometimes let our six-year-old son, DJ, fish from it.

Lori and I were in the house with Tiffany when DJ was fishing. Suddenly, he began screaming. The first thought I had was DJ had hooked himself. Lori and I rushed to his aid to find he had caught a barracuda. He was hysterical because it tried pulling itself up the line toward the pole, or so it seemed. DJ refused to let us throw it back. It was his first catch. So, it was wrapped and placed in the freezer until we got rid of it without him knowing.

One of our friends liked to fish and often went to Gatun Lake in the early morning. He learned Lori wanted to fish and that I didn’t. He invited her to go with him. The exciting thing about Gatun Lake, at least in those days, was the abundance of fish. They always brought many back. They said the fish practically jumped into the boat.

I mentioned our apartment had a room that ran its length. It was about ten feet wide and had a tile floor. There was an open area that the kids played in, often running.

One day. Clair, our maid, called Lori and told her Tiffany was hurt. DJ pushed her on a riding toy into a television stand. She cut her eyebrow deeply. Lori called and told me they were going to the emergency room. I met them there and held Tiffany while she cried as they stitched the cut. I likely cried as much as she did this time.

Another time, Tiffany wanted an apple peeled. She took a case knife with a small serrated area found with most cutlery sets and jabbed the apple. The blade pierced the apple but also her finger. It bled profusely. Again, I held her while she cried as they stitched her finger.

My commanding officer selected Lori to be the command ombudsman. She represented the command on several committees, including commissary. He also hired Lori to work in public works.

Her position with public works proved valuable on Thanksgiving Day when power to Coco Solo housing failed. I was cooking our turkey on a Weber kettle grill. Our neighbors and the mess hall used electric stoves but now had no power. Our dinner continued to cook, but many others waited for power to return.

Lori contacted the Army public works about the problem and its impacts on our neighbors and coworkers. When she reminded them that she was the wife of Chief Knott, they showed more concern. Soon, they restored power, and everyone had a great Thanksgiving dinner. Our Weber turkey proved delicious.

Lori got the quick response because the listener thought she was an officer’s wife. The Army calls a Chief Warrant Officer (CWO) “Chief.” The Navy uses it for Chief Petty Officer (CPO.) The CWO is a junior officer, and the CPO is an enlisted member.

The command received word that the USS Iowa would transit the Panama Canal from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific. I was one of several command members permitted to board the USS Iowa before it entered the first lock and remained on board until it reached Rodman Naval Station.

Besides being on a Navy battleship, a highlight of the trip was conversations with the crew. The Navy mothballed the USS Iowa in Philadephia in 1958. She was returned to service early in 1984. The issue was finding sailors familiar with a battleship’s gunnery and other aspects. So, the Navy found battleship sailors willing to return to service. I chatted with several of them during the transit. It was the closest I came to being on a Navy warship underway.

I learned that one of the locks was undergoing maintenance. Several of us were lowered forty feet into the lock by a crane. We went into the tunnels used to move water between locks and viewed the massive gates. We also learned that water is not pumped between locks but uses the principle that water reaches its level. After the tour, we reentered the cage and returned to the top of the lock.

My commanding officer pushed me to apply for the Chief Warrant Officer program. I had previously applied for the Limited Duty Officer program without success. I doubted I would be successful, but I already had most of the required documents, so I completed the application. Part of the command process was an interview board. Two warrant officers and my executive officer queried me and then made comments that accompanied my submission. Of those submissions, they ranked me first of three. However, the selection board’s decision would not be released before I transferred.

My orders came to NSA FT Meade, Maryland. It wasn’t my first choice, but then I hadn’t had any success getting my first choices since leaving school in 1967.

Lori and I decided she would take the kids and leave Panama in the late summer. She would stay with her family until I arranged quarters at FT Meade. DJ would attend school in Texas while waiting. Otherwise, waiting until October to move would mean breaking up his schooling, partly in Panama and partly in Maryland.

I received a call from FT Meade shortly after getting orders. It was the command’s executive officer during my first year in Panama. Now, he was at FT Meade and responsible for placing Navy members into NSA departments. He wondered if I would like to become an experiment for him. It seemed some departments were reluctant to accept Navy enlisted. I said I would go wherever he wanted me. There will be more on the experiment results in the section of my time at NSA.

The day came, and I was on another flight, leaving one duty station en route to another with a leave period with my family in between.