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I took learning this time, very seriously.
I took learning this time very seriously. While the rest of the battalion was focused on maneuvers, I was focused on the future. My girlfriend Judy—a Magna Cum Laude 'brainiac'—convinced me that my education was the key to my next mission. I enrolled in English Literature at Carlsbad-Oceanside Junior College, pulling night shifts in the classroom while Judy tutored me on the weekends. I might not have graduated with her honors, but I cleared that semester with flying colors.
Pumping Gas and Selling Stuff
My weekends were a different kind of training ground. I was a regular at the local 76 station, and one day the owner offered me a job. I saw an opportunity to balance my scales. I told him I'd take the gig on one condition: a 10% commission on every product and service I sold. We went back and forth—the first real 'Boardroom' negotiation of my life—and settled on 5%. I loved it. I wasn't just 'selling' tires and oil; I was helping people keep their lives moving.
1964 - Corporal Horvath (E4)
1964 - Corporal Horvath (E4)
Working for First Sergeant Martin in Battalion Headquarters was an incredible education. It kept me constantly on my toes, and I truly enjoyed the dynamic of our team, especially working alongside my friend Lee.
Lee and I were both driven; we studied together for every test the Corps threw our way, passing them all with flying colors. The hard work didn't go unnoticed. I’ll never forget the day Captain Walsh ordered me into his office. He looked me in the eye and asked if I planned on staying in the Corps. At that point, I had only been in for 22 months. Getting promoted to Corporal (E4) that quickly during peacetime was highly unusual, and I was honestly stunned. I said yes, and just like that, I earned my stripes.
Shortly after, Lee was promoted to Sergeant and moved to another Battalion. I took over the responsibility of finding a replacement, interviewing several Marines before bringing in Jerry Singleton, a sharp PFC with office experience.
Despite the success, I could feel a different calling pulling at me. Selling was in my blood, and I knew that to reach the level I envisioned, I needed to further my education. Eleven months later, I accepted my honorable discharge. It was bittersweet leaving the Corps behind, but I knew I was ready for the next challenge. I headed back to school to prepare for whatever was coming next.
The 90-Day Miracle: Oorah!
The 90-Day Miracle: Oorah!
By September 1964, the world was shifting in ways none of us could fully see yet. My girlfriend at the time, Judy, headed off to Whittier College to begin her journey toward becoming a lawyer, and I was looking toward my own future.
On September 9, 1964, I received my Honorable Discharge. It turned out to be a "90-day miracle." Just one month after I transitioned back to civilian life, the "police action" in Vietnam was officially declared a war, and the Marine Corps immediately froze all discharges.
If I hadn't used my administrative knowledge and "Admin Intel" to process my early release for school, I wouldn't have been headed for Chicago—I would have been headed for the jungle. Lucky? You bet.
Oorah!
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