“I didn’t give religion much thought when I went into the Marine Corps. I encountered only one incident in Officer Candidate School (OCS) when a guy called me a kike. Knowing I was going to get my ass kicked, I stood up because if I backed down, I was cooked. I had to fight for myself. As I was walking towards him and he towards me, my bunkmate, Al Gerhart, who was 6'6” and a tackle on the Georgia Tech football team, stepped between us and said to the aggressor, ‘Don’t mess with my little buddy.’ The guy looked up at him and said, ‘Okay, Al.’ That was it. Al and I walked back to the other end of the squadron and I told him thanks. He said, ‘He won’t fuck with you anymore.’ 

Al was part of my plan from the beginning. In March of 1969, I drove to Quantico, Virginia for OCS. I parked my car and walked into a big tent. They set the platoons by the order in which you arrived, so the first 50 or 55 guys became the first platoon. The next 50 or 55 were the second. I was in the third. Well, I walked in, looked around, and the biggest guy I could find was Al. I sat down next to him and introduced myself. When we went into the barracks to select bunks, I walked with him. I said, ‘Al, why don’t you take the lower bunk and I’ll take the top?’ I taught him how to make a bed, shine his shoes, and take his weapon apart and put it back together. I became his mentor. He appreciated it. And I benefited from it, too. I had selected the right guy to be my protector.”

📷| Colleen O’Connell Smyth