After airborne school, Eileen and I reported to Fort Bragg, North Carolina where we were assigned married junior officer quarters. Married junior officer quarters back then was a quaint three bedroom half of a duplex. The master bedrooms were back to back and the walls were thin enough of that you could definitely tell, well, you know. We didn’t care. We were confused as to what to do with the other bedrooms but we would figure that out over time.
Most of my belongings were in storage in Augusta, GA and the Army was suppose to deliver it to Fayetteville, NC (a 4 hour drive) as soon as we got a house. With classic Army efficiency, it would take four months as they somehow lost the luggage. We didn’t care. We had an air mattress and we were together.
Eileen and I very much enjoyed being four hours from Savannah. It is the perfect distance. It is far enough away to to politely decline any invitation to events we did not want to go to. It was close enough to make any event we did want to make. Because of the distance, guests felt it was appropriate to call before visiting. We would maintain a loving but politically neutral relationship with our families. We would stay out of family politics and just try to love everyone. Think of it as we are the family version of Switzerland. Everyone likes to visit. Everyone likes a call from Switzerland. Everyone feels better afterwards.
We all Start from the Bottom
The Army is a meritocracy. You start at the bottom and work your way up. As an officer, that means you start as a second lieutenant (2LT) with entry level pay. My 1983 monthly pay as a 2nd LT was $1,098.90 (base pay) + $110 (airborne pay) or $1,208.90 a month. My housing costs were covered by the Army but was valued at $290.70 a month. This means Eileen and I made about $18,000 a year. Like many Americans, my wife had to work to make ends meet and to start putting away some small amount of money to grow. Because Eileen worked, we were eventually able to buy a washer and a dryer. The storage unit under the bed was built from sheets of plywood. My computer desk was built from sheets of plywood. We still have both.
These frugal first years influenced us for the rest of our lives. We worked to pay off our debt and save money. Room by room, we slowly bought inexpensive furniture when it went on sale or built it from plywood if we could not wait. We did not perceive ourselves as poor but everything purchased was prioritized and often with long wait periods. Car wash was at the house. Oil change was at the house. Spark plug change was at the house. Yard work was a weekend activity.
Our delights were simple. I would go to work at 0630 every morning and get home around 5 or 6. There was an open field near our house. We would have dinner together and then go for a walk with our dog Isis. If I was not in the field, our weekends were open to explore North Carolina, play inexpensive golf at Pope Air Force Base, or just relax at the house. I jumped out of perfectly safe airplanes every month and that normally was followed by a short field exercise. Dinner out was rare but it did happen. The Officer’s Club was priced where we could eat there occasionally.
Infrequently, there would be a required social event at a senior officer’s house. Eileen and I would dress in formal military attire, drop our nicely imprinted military business card in the crystal plate at the entryway, and engage in polite conversation like you did in an earlier era.
Isis, the Highlander Dog of Magic
We got our first dog from the wife of a classmate, David Amberger, who worked at a animal rescue center. We named the dog Isis after the Egyptian god of magic. Isis was an interesting dog as they all are. She had her own personality. She was part German Sheppard and part something else else – maybe Dachshund. She was very protective and loved humans. Isis was also a huge Highlander movie fan and believed there could only be one. One dog and that it was her role in life to kill all the other dogs. She was squat, fast, 60 pounds of pure muscle, and fully committed to be the last dog alive. Think a combination honey badger and wolverine in terms of fighting. Size of the other dog really did not matter as she was going to win. Needless to say, we loved the protective Isis but she was always on a lease.
Isis had a penchant to jump on the top of the sectional back and patrol. She could see out the window from there and ensure the proper amount of fear in everyone approaching the house.
It is important to note while discussing Isis that my father loved her. Not previously mentioned but Isis also believed that the best version of a future world involved cats in trees. She never physically attacked a cat. She just chased them all into trees. She had uncanny ability to chase multiple cats into trees and keep them in trees for hours. My father thought this was spectacularly funny and a great spectator sport.
Friends and Simple Gatherings
We had old friends and made new friends at Fort Bragg Victory like you do in the military. My high school classmate and friend Paul Murphy was assigned to Fort Bragg. I had several West Point classmates/friends including David Amberger, Bill Bennett, Mike Longo, Pam Prentiss and Scotty Miller).
We made a number of new friends including Dave and Kathy Griffin, Randy and Nancy Pestona, Scott and Cathy McQuaig, Ben and Jennifer Reali, and Hutch and Tammy Hutchinson.
As noted above, all of us had started at the bottom of the Army meritocracy. Thus, none of us had a lot of money and all of us were in the Army and working all the time. It was the simple things in life that were our delights during this time in our lives. Things like:
- Gathering together to watch TV and share a potluck dinner;
- Watching the post fireworks from the roof of a house;
- Playing cards, or inexpensive golf, or drinking games with inexpensive alcohol;
- Digging out basements and building furniture out of plywood because we could not afford to do it any other way.
Towards the end of our time at Fort Bragg, I competed for and won the opportunity to join the 3/325th Infantry Combat Team (Airborne). I use the verb compete because the combat team was about to deploy for three years to Vicenza, Italy and a number of young signal officers were interested in the position. It would be a regimental deployment meaning the entire unit would rotate at the same time. I served with them for several months before we prepared to deploy. The 23 officers and their wives in the combat team gathered together for our farewell to Fort Bragg in a memorable toga party.
The toga party thankfully was hosted by our next door neighbors which meant we need only walk across the yard to get home. Little did we know that short expanse would be much longer by the end of the night. There are three legends were created that night:
- As we entered a house that we had many times in the past, we encountered a new addition: IV bottles suspended from the ceiling filled with hard alcohol. The contest was for how long you could go with the tap fully open. The record was in excess of 30 seconds.
- A young lieutenant arrived with his fiancée. He participated in the IV bottle challenge and in the process, forgot that his fiancée was there. He decided that best addition to the current party would be accomplished by going to the officer’s club and bringing back several young ladies. He was successful in this task but was utterly and completely surprised upon his return that his fiancée, soon to be former fiancée, was in attendance at the toga party. It was as ugly of a breakup as you can imagine.
- Eileen and I meandered back to our house where we engaged in an experiment. One of us promptly went to the restroom and expelled all of the alcohol consumed. One of us went to bed and suffered the next day. It would not be our last toga party but it was the last one where we consumed too much alcohol.
Priceless
The fellowship of true friends who can hear you out, share your joys, help carry your burdens, and correctly counsel you is priceless.
After two years at Fort Bragg Victory, Eileen and I packed up our meager belongings and along with Isis the highlander dog of magic, we boarded a unit plane and headed to Italy. We flew into Padua where the Army had reserved a mud bath resort spa as temporary lodging for the combat team. While this sounds luxurious, you could also describe it as non-air conditioned, mosquito infested hotel with distinctly earthy odors. Eileen and I didn’t care. The food was excellent, the alcohol was most excellent, the ice was bad, and the people was welcoming and especially so if you even tried to speak Italian. We were in a foreign country and it was going to be an adventure.
Within 12 hours, our sponsor, 1LT John Marriott, picked us up from the luxury spa mosquito infested hotel and we were headed to Venice. This would be the first time in my life that I would encounter something priceless. It happened at the Basilica of Saint Mark Cathedral and specifically at the Pala d’Oro. On one hand, it made me pause in wonder at the immense wealth represented by the jewels, gold, and craftsmanship of the altar. On the other hand, how many lives could have been saved if the money went to the poor instead of the embellishment of what should be a place of worship. I could not resolve the two conflicting thoughts at the time. We had a great first visit to Venice and over the next five years, we would return many times to explore this fascinating city. This would be a great beginning to our Italian sojourn.
We would live in a small American community about a mile from Caserma Ederle where I worked as the senior signal officer of the 3/325th Airborne Combat team. There was a back path to the base so I would normally bike to work everyday. The house was on a cul da sac and our neighbors included Kathy and Scott McQuaig, Randy and Nancy Pestona, Hutch and Tammy Hutchinson, as well as two other families we cannot remember the name of. Eileen continued to work in preschool education to supplement my meager pay as a Army officer. We were very happy. Every weekend, we would be off to another Italian destination.
Becoming Italian
We continued to strengthen our knowledge of the Italian language and took formal language classes a couple of days a week. This normally involved Eileen and I rushing to the class after work and grabbing a very non nutritious meal from the Burger King. Our classmates consisted of similarly frazzled individuals and others who only seem to only have one thing to do all day and that was to prepare for class and already spoke five other romantic languages. This led to a class tension that the instructor strove, and occasionally failed, to keep under control. Regardless, Eileen quickly picked up Italian and I became functional in common tasks. We labeled everything in the house in Italian and tried to speak Italian as often as we could. The Italians were very appreciative that we tried and helped us deepen our understanding of their language and culture. We considered this a matter of respect to the local culture and something we strive to do everytime we visit another country.
Driving in Italy can best be illustrated through a joke. Driving in Europe can best be described by what is permitted and prohibited. In France, everything is permitted except that which is prohibited. In Germany, everything is prohibited except that which is permitted. In Italy, everything is permitted and especially those things that are prohibited. The Italian drivers are very good drivers but you do have to pay attention as rules do not really apply. We drove for five years in Italy and never had an accident and I picked up, perhaps, some bad expectations that other drivers, in other countries, like the United States, were paying attention as well when driving. I would be sorely disappointed repeatedly.
Our favorite place to eat was a small trattoria named Due Torri (Two Towers). There are maybe ten tables and a bar in the trattoria. When we first visited, we thought the meal was over and were about to leave when the owner came up and told us to sit back down and enjoy our after dinner drink. We told him we had not ordered one and he said it was included in the meal and we drank it at the bar. He remembered our names and talked with us every time we visited which was often in our five years in Italy. We left in 1991 and had a chance to return in 1996 when I had to present a paper at an academic conference. The owner recognized us, chidded us for moving back to the United States and sat down and had dinner with us to catch up as, in his words, we are family. We are looking forward to return as soon as we can.
Eileen and I adopted the Italian pace of meals when we ate out and came to enjoy it. There was time to enjoy eat other’s company in-between each course and relax in the moment. There were no cell phones or email. It became a delightful pause in the day. As part of that pause, we became accustomed to a single glass of amaretto to be gently sipped and treasured.
While eating out in Italy, I enjoyed many Italian dishes but would always ask what is the house recipe that is not on the menu. It was often a risotto of some form and I was rewarded for asking for it. My other approach was to scan the menu and select the Frutti Di Mare. In Italy, Fruitti Di Mare means fruit of the sea and could be anything from lobster to fried minnows whole. It was always a surprise and always something I continue to enjoy. As an aside, Eileen who was always a good cook became adept at Italian cooking and her risotto asparagus is truly extraordinary.
Our favorite place to go, and often with the McQuaig family, was Lake Garda. It was an hour away, completely free, and quite lovely. Our first visit was to the northern coast to watch the energetic Italian wind surfers. Sitting on the beach eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and watching Matthew and Meagan play in the sand, two topless, very young and attractive Italian girls came over to chat and enjoy the children. For them, it was the most natural thing to do. For Scott and I, it would be part of our journey to becoming Italian.
On subsequent visits, we would often go to Sirmione on Lake Garda. It is easy to get to, a lovely town with Roman ruins, a beach, and a fantastic view of the mountains surrounding Lake Garda. On one such visit, I was doing what all dear family friends do and repeatedly launching Matthew and Megan McQuaig into the water for the thousandth time. On one such launch, my wedding and West Point ring went with Meagan into deep water. No one moved and Scott dived in to find the rings and did! I put the rings away and resumed my launching of the children into water amidst their peals of laughter.