I arrived at Yale in the last week of June, 1942, a few days early in order to sign up for the Naval ROTC. I was following in a family tradition of naval service, since my father and brother attended Annapolis. For freshman year, I was assigned to off-campus housing at 1 Hillhouse Avenue, a lucky event because the 30 or so guys there soon became known as "the Hillhouse Gang" and remained close long after we were relocated to colleges.

By our sophomore year, the war news seemed to get worse and worse, and the Navy's need for fresh bodies became ever more pressing. That need exploded in our faces in the first week of May, 1943, when the ROTC classes of '45 and '45W were ordered to report to escort ships, most operating out of Staten Island, to provide some well-deserved leave to sailors on convoy duty and to give us some sea experience. I drew a 1000-ton, British-built corvette, renamed the U.S.S. Ready. We carried the rating not of midshipmen but of apprentice seamen-and we hadn't even been to boot camp! Since we were assigned alphabetically, some crew mates I remember were Phil Grabfield, Walt Griggs, Ollie James, Gordy Knight, Hank Luce and Tony Lyman.

Our convoy of about 30 ships made up off the New Jersey coast in a couple of days, and we were joined by two other escorts. Two days out, we ran into some heavy weather which resulted in considerable seasickness among us. My reward for not being sick was to be assigned as a mess cook, carrying chow from the galley above deck to the mess hall below deck. We soon we got a sonar contact, and the escorts went into search patterns while the convoy started evasive maneuvers. We and the other escorts dropped several depth charges, but I never found out whether we actually had a sub contact. At Guantanamo, we handed the convoy over to another group of escorts, and it continued to Africa and Europe. The return convoy was uneventful, even though historians have identified May, 1943, as the turning point in the "Battle of the Atlantic."

I was commissioned in October, 1944, and ordered to the pre-commissioning crew for a new heavy aircraft carrier, the U.S.S. Lake Champlain, CV 39.The route to the ship led through Washington, D.C. (5'38cal. Gun school), Newport, R.I. (familiarization with carrier plans, charts and plenty of firing at towed air and surface targets) and finally on to Portsmouth, Va. to board the biggest damn ship I had ever seen.
After the commissioning on June 5, 1945, we went to sea for shakedown- holding speed trials, taking on the 103 planes of VC 150 squadron, practicing day and night landings, holding drills, gunnery practice firing on towed air and surface targets. This was serious stuff; three planes lost, two pilots and two enlisted men killed in separate accidents. By the first of August we were steaming home to Norfolk, looking forward to a few days leave before heading for the Pacific and the invasion of Japan. As we approached Norfolk, we heard about the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima. (I used my leave to get married to Barbara on V-J Day, August 15.)

Our orders to Japan were cancelled, and with no new orders, the Captain took us to Philadelphia, New York and Boston for "Open Ship" days. In Boston there was an amusing episode that illustrated the awe back then of junior officers for any officer wearing a star. In Boston, I invited Phil Grabfield's parents, Brig. Gen. and Mrs. Grabfield to dinner in the wardroom. As we entered the wardroom, every one of the ship officers stood silently. The Exec waited for the general to sit down, the general waited for his wife to sit down, Mrs. Grabfield waited for me to do something, and I didn't have a clue as to what was happening. Phil and I had a good laugh for years about that.

We became the first carrier thrown into the "Magic Carpet" operation, in which several large ships, including battleships and cruisers, were converted into troop transports on a crash basis to "bring the boys back home." Back to Norfolk, fill the hangar deck with pipe-rack bunks, five bunks high, build latrines out over the sides, load up with food and supplies and go find 5000 soldiers dying to get home. Three trips to England, including one through such a terrible storm that a battleship was forced to turn back along with a carrier that had its flight deck literally rolled up, and one to Italy where we broke the Normandie's transatlantic speed record on the return trip.
I was released to inactive duty in February, 1946 and joined the Bell System at the end of March. Partly to supplement my beginning pay, I continued in the Naval Reserve, becoming an intelligence specialist. In September, 1951, I was recalled to active duty during the Korean War and served at a Washington post until released from active duty in June, 1953.