1st Lt Ed Kolbe, USMC

For those reading who are not familiar with such fine distinctions, the Navy ROTC programs produce officers for both the regular and reserve components of the Marine Corps. At that time (1959-1963), a "regular" NROTC student received a 4-year scholarship and was required to serve four years on active duty - the active duty commitment was the same as that for graduates of the Naval Academy. In return for the scholarship, you had a longer active duty requirement and had the privilege of having "USMC" suffixed to your name. A "contract" member of the NROTC was not on a scholarship, had the same military training as those that were, and had a commitment to serve two years, as I recall, on active duty. Those commissioned in this manner were members of the reserve on active duty and had the label "USMCR" appended to their name. We all were midshipmen, but some were more-so than others. It was a social status hierarchy where NROTC regulars could look down their noses at NROTC contract students and midshipmen of the Naval Academy could look down their noses at everyone.

Ed was a graduate of the Naval Academy and thereby possessed certain credentials that gave him clearer title than I had to the label "USMC." But as with Walt Breede, I do not remember a time that he seemed to expect any special treatment simply because he was a one of those "ring-knockers."

I remember Ed most for drinking and not taking kindly to our suggestions that his hair was getting a little thin on top. Sam Winegardner, I and others (my memories of whom are REALLY dim) spent a good deal of our off-hours showing each other how well we knew the arts of alcohol. I believe it was Ed who introduced me to the magic of super-dry martinis, an art several of us practiced hard in Hong Kong during a short stay there enroute to Vietnam. We would go out at night for fancy dinners -- chateaubriand, Peking Duck (at where else but at the Peking Duck Restaurant), preceding those by a few drinks at the nearest civilized bar. One bartender we depended on liked to make dry martinis by placing perhaps a teaspoon of vermouth in a martini glass, swirling it around the sides and pouring it into a second glass, and continuing this through the four or five glasses needed for however many of us there were that night. After coating the sides of the last glass, he would pitch the remaining vermouth into the sink, shake all the glasses of any residue and fill them with ice-cold gin. It was after a round or so of these that I made my only successful attempt to use chop sticks (at the Peking Duck). I probably could have walked on water had someone suggested it.

Ed was a cool smoker, and I use to envy his style. He was probably the chief reason that I taught myself to smoke during the couple of weeks of training I went through to become skilled at calling in naval gunfire. I was away from my friends during that class and tried to become proficient enough to look cool on my return. I was so cool that I managed to get myself up to four packs of Camels a day at one time while in Vietnam. Hey, thanks, Ed! Just joking, that was entirely my mistake, with no blame attributable to anyone else.

I can't remember now what happened to Ed after that stop in Hong Kong. Operation Starlight, in August, 1965, was the first combat we saw, and I think that Ed must have landed about the same time as I did. We were both FOs and spent much of our time away from our battery and with the infantry companies for which we provided artillery support.

I do wish that I had had the sense to try to keep in touch with Ed, if for nothing else than to thank him for the abortive party that he tried to organize in his apartment in Oceanside. An odd chance from that non-party resulted in me encountering the woman I would marry shortly before I left for Vietnam. So I still have some strange sentimental feeling that if it were not for Ed, I would not have married Angela, we would not have raised three wonderful daughters, and would not now have three tremendous grandchildren. Timing is everything. Thanks, Ed.

Well, it finally happened, thanks to Google.com (great search engine!) and the incidental listing that Ed provided to the web site for the USNA Class of 1963. We are at least in e-mail contact, and I'll be compelled to lead him to this page so he can see the things I advertised about him to the whole world. After he reads it, he'll probably change his e-mail address and get an unlisted phone!