"That is not to say, however, that my time in Pensacola wasn’t as fun as I thought it was at the time. My memories of this place are happy ones for a reason. I enjoyed every single moment of my life here, from learning to fly to blowing my pay at Trader Johns.

"I came to Pensacola to become an aviator, and, eventually, an instrument of war for my country. I have very happy memories of my time here. It is hard to imagine how I could not have happy memories of this place. I was a very young man entering a very exciting profession with few priorities greater than my own amusement. Of course, my interests then were focused more on cultivating the image of a naval aviator that strongly appealed to my vanity than on becoming proficient in my chosen profession and understanding the purposes and full meaning of the duty to my country that came with my commission. I wanted to live the life of a daring, brash, fun-loving flyer, indifferent to the hazards of his profession, calm and stoic when the adrenalin flowed, fatalistic about life and death situations, and determined to live every non dangerous moment of his life to the fullest.

"I thought that image, which I doubt I ever quite perfected, would prove irresistible to everyone I knew, and especially so to girls whose attention I sought. There are compensations to growing older, my friends, but the late discovery that you were probably not quite the charming, irresistible young man you once believed you were, but rather callow, conceited and often stupid is not among them. In truth, the image I aspired to was, in the end, only irresistible to one person – me, and it was a very childish attraction. It was little different than playing soldiers when I was a boy, except the government provided me an attractive uniform, a small salary, and a real and expensive airplane, which they eventually let me fly, catapulting me from the deck of a pitching aircraft carrier and expecting me, and more importantly my airplane, to return safely to the same place. I know better now what I was really being prepared to become. But that sign of maturity, like so many others, had to wait for the self-awareness that comes from having a place in a real, not an imaginary world; a world that made short work of childhood dreams of glamour. That is not to say, however, that my time in Pensacola wasn’t as fun as I thought it was at the time. My memories of this place are happy ones for a reason. I enjoyed every single moment of my life here, from learning to fly to blowing my pay at Trader Johns. But I was sent here for more serious purposes than that, and it would take me a while to understand that.

"It will surprise no one that I think service in the United States Armed Forces to be among the highest expressions of patriotism and the most personally rewarding experiences. For many years the United States Navy was the only world I knew, and, all these years later, it is still the world I know best and love most. After I earned my wings, I served in squadrons in the Atlantic Fleet, on board the Intrepid and Enterprise. Mediterranean cruises and their ports of call in Europe were pleasant duty for young, single aviators, and I made the most of it. And much of my affection for the Navy, and my love of flying off carriers was still a reflection of childhood daydreams, stimulated by long afternoons in my grandmother’s house reading about the exploits of heroes, fictional and real, and craving the kinds of adventures they had. I had wanted a life of adventure, and while visiting the Isle of Capri or the casinos of Monte Carlo seemed fairly adventurous at the time, I knew my ultimate adventure would have to be in more challenging circumstances than those I had thus far experienced. My idea of war, which was not derived from personal experience, hadn’t advanced much further than the way I had conceived it as a boy: the biggest adventure of all. That romantic conception would also have to wait for later experiences to teach me just how foolish an idea it was.

Pensacola, Florida
April 2, 2008