Keith W. Wilcox I was shocked and infuriated at the world-wide news that Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. I immediately decided to enter the service and chose the Navy to do so. The Navy had sustained the worst damage in that attack. I drove to Salt Lake City as soon as possible to find the Naval Recruiting offices. I let them know I wanted to serve with them and asked about training centers for officer training. I was given the forms including one for my physical fitness and health, and immediately proceeded to get these forms ready to take back to that office. As I filled out the forms, answering various questions, one of these made me hesitate, and ponder. The question was simple: 'Do you have hay fever, yes or no' This caused me to ponder. Why would hay fever be a problem out on the ocean? Out at sea there wouldn't be any pollen to contend with. Yet, I had to answer this question. My problem was that I had suffered hay fever all of my life. My parents wouldn't even let me work in the gardens at home, since I sneezed so often and so much. And as I pondered this question, I knew that it very well could have serious consequences in being accepted or not. I was tempted to 'tell a little lie.' It would probably never come up again. But, a few years earlier, while studying the Ten Commandments in a seminary class, I had decided to live by them, and that one of these indicated that we should not bear false witness. We must not lie regardless of the possible consequences. I marked 'yes' on the form and turned it in to the officer in charge. The officer read the form and my answers quietly; but when he came to this question on hay fever he stopped, stared at me and asked, 'Mr. Wilcox, don't you know that Navy officers can't have hay fever? Do you actually have hay fever?' I replied that I thought I did have it. He then said, 'You'll have to take a test.' I spent the afternoon in a medical office where tests were taken. Finally, the doctor in charge called me into his office, handed me my test papers and said, 'Mr. Wilcox, you have hay fever, and you have it real bad.' I reluctantly took these papers back to the Navy Recruiting Office, handed them back to the officer in charge and awaited his response. He read them, looked up and said, 'You really do have it, don't you?' He then took all of the papers including my application form, tore them up and threw them into a wastebasket. I was shocked. I didn't know what to say. I finally asked him, 'What shall I do now?' He replied, 'Mr. Wilcox, the draft will take care of you.' With that, I left the office and returned home to Ogden. I felt a deep feeling of sorrow. My parents were kind and shared my feelings as I simply began to await the draft notice, which seemed to be my future. While awaiting word from the government, I continued my studies at Weber College. I had changed my major from art to engineering. After finishing my sophomore year, I applied for admittance to the School of Mechanical Engineering at the University of Utah and was accepted. I soon began my junior year in this school, but daily checked my mail for the draft notice I expected. Then an announcement was made that affected many of us in this school. It was even carried in the daily papers. It simply stated that upper division engineering students at the university were to be deferred until they had their degrees. It was explained that the services were in desperate need of trained engineers who were qualified in their fields. They were to be deferred from the draft until they graduated. Lower division engineering students were subject to the draft. On this basis I continued my upper division studies in mechanical engineering until I graduated in December 1943. With this degree I decided to visit the Navy Recruitment Office again, even though I had been given several opportunities to go to work for firms engaged in producing materials for the war. At the recruiting office I approached the officer in charge, showed him my degree and asked him whether the Navy could use my services. One look and the officer became very excited. He exclaimed, 'Mr. Wilcox, we have Navy ships in dry dock because we don't have enough engineering officers available to keep them in service.' 184 He then handed me a form to fill out and told me all I had to do was sign the bottom line. He told me that if I would sign this application form, he would give me a direct 'Ensign Commission' for service in the Navy. He also said he had forms to give me that would provide my uniform and other necessities. He pleaded with me to 'sign it.' I replied, 'Just a minute sir. There is one thing you need to know.' 'What is it?' he responded.' I replied, 'Two years ago, directly following the bombing of Pearl Harbor, I decided to enter the Navy and came here to apply. But, I let them know I have hay fever, and I was refused. And, I want you to know that I do have hay fever, and I have it real bad. What do you think of that?' He responded 'That's a thing of the past, Mr. Wilcox. It is no longer a concern, and the question is no longer asked. Just sign right here, and you will have your commission today.' With that, I signed the paper with my commission and also other forms with which I could order my uniforms and other necessities. I left as an ensign in the Navy. It wasn't long before I received direct orders by mail. My first assignment was in a Navy training base in Florida, after which I received orders to report to the Navy Base at Lido Beach in Long Island, New York, for further training. There I received orders to report on the USS LS.M. 558, where I was to serve as engineering officer. I learned that 'L.S.M.' stood for Landing Ship-Medium. The ship was just being finished, and other officers were being appointed to serve with 50 enlisted men. I soon met some of the other officers, including Lieutenant John Barr Foster who would serve as captain, Lieutenant Albert Hill who would serve as executive director, and Ensign David Luck in charge of training and discipline. Another officer was added later to share David Luck's responsibilities. I soon met my staff of 16 enlisted men who would work under my direction in serving all mechanical and electrical needs and other services when needed. I was also asked to serve as the ship's chaplain. We were given time to fulfill our various responsibilities by sailing near the East Coast south to Florida, and then back to Maine, stopping at Navy Depots as needed along the way. Our full assignment was then received. We were to prepare to sail to the Panama Canal, then on to a Navy base in Hawaii. From there we would sail to Japan to be a part of the invasion of Japan, which was then being planned in great detail. Our ship had various rooms around the exterior which surrounded a large flat space on which tanks of the Army were to be carried. The ship was designed with a large, flat metal door which could be let down after the ship moved up on a beach. After the tanks left for their attacks, the front door was pulled up and the ship could be pulled back into the sea with a large chain attached to an anchor which was dropped on the way to the beach. We practiced this movement many times. We were prepared and all ready to sail for the Panama Canal. Then we received orders to hold our position on the east coast. A few days later the world was shocked to see and learn of atomic bombs being dropped on Hiroshima and then Nagasaki, key cities in Japan. The Navy by this time had complete control of the seas as did the Army and Navy Air Force of the skies over Japan. Japan quickly surrendered, and the war was over. We received new orders not to sail to Japan, but to help in the work of hauling all types of materials between cities on the east coast. This went on for several months and then the ship was scheduled to be decommissioned. My orders were to return to the Navy Supply Depot in Clearfield, Utah. I had several months to serve there before it was time for my release from active duty in the fall of 1946. As I left active duty in the Navy to the Navy Reserves, I felt deeply blessed. I was perfectly willing to serve where called, in battle or whatever. Had I decided to be dishonest in answering the question on my hay fever when I first tried to join the Navy; I would have gone into battle immediately. Many of my good friends including several that were in Weber College when the war broke out went into war and did not return. So many young men paid a terrible price of their lives in defending their country. I feel very fortunate in being a veteran of this terrible war, and still in being alive, having had the privilege of not only serving my country but in having the blessings of my wonderful family and the time and energy to practice my profession of architecture and in having the time and energy to serve my church, my state, my country and my family over these many years. These are blessings that so many of my dear friends and so many of our young men of the forties, during WWII, did not have. They paid a terrible price for our freedom, our independence and for the personal happiness we all enjoy. 185