He served on board the USS Essex (CVA-9) during the Korean War and went on to become a successful entrepreneur and an accomplished mountain-climber. Dick Bass says being a naval officer helped him mature and was sound training for the rest of his career. Here's his story.
For an Oklahoma boy raised in Texas, I've crammed an awful lot into my 80 years. I've climbed Asia's Mount Everest, and scaled the highest peaks on the six other continents. I've managed the family oil-and-gas business and ranching operations. And I've developed and operated one of America's biggest ski resorts. My first job, though, was for Uncle Sam—as an ensign in the Naval Reserve.
For the life of me, I can't remember why I chose the Navy. I'd gotten into Yale University at the tender age of 16, and had been bent on signing up for some kind of officer-training course. I had been in junior ROTC in high school, and I liked the spit-and-polish and discipline that the military seemed to offer. I signed on as a contract NROTC midshipman at the start of my sophomore year.
I was commissioned in 1951, but in those days contract NROTC students had no active-duty obligation, and I had enrolled in the University of Texas for graduate school. Halfway through my first year, the call came. The war in Korea had intensified, and I was assigned to the USS Essex, a World War II-era aircraft carrier that had just undergone an extensive modernization and was heading to the Sea of Japan.
As a newly minted ensign, age 21, I had a lot of learning to do. I started as a gunnery officer, standing underway bridge watches. A few months later, the personnel officer got transferred, and I was tagged to replace him—and continue my watchstanding as well. Within weeks, I was sleep-deprived and frazzled. The executive officer, my boss, was unimpressed. He'd been there before and survived, he said. If he could, why couldn't I?
It turned out he was right. As the Essex steamed around the Sea of Japan, conducting interdiction raids on North Korean land targets south of the Yalu River, I adjusted to the demands of the service. I learned to cope with the paperwork. I learned a lot about shiphandling. I qualified as Officer of the Deck under way. I made lieutenant (junior grade). And—glory be!—I got to welcome a new personnel officer, who took over my paper-pushing. It didn't get much better than that.
There were times that I'll never forget. For one particularly memorable week, I served as an escort for war correspondent James A. Michener, who later used his experiences on board the Essex as the central theme for a book, The Bridges at Toko-Ri, which was made into a motion picture a couple years later. He captured the life we led accurately and poignantly. I still get teary-eyed when I replay the movie and relive my own experiences.
In 1953, with my two-year obligation over, I said sayonara to the Navy and went home to my wife in Dallas. I joined my Dad in the family oil-and-gas business; became part of a limited partnership that developed the Vail Ski Resort; and later started the Snowbird Ski and Summer Resort, just 25 miles outside Salt Lake City, Utah. During those years, we had four children.
From 1982 through 1985, I embarked on a mission of climbing the world's highest peaks. I became the first person to climb all seven continental highs, and the oldest—at 55—to scale Mount Everest. It was pretty challenging, but worth every step.
No, the Navy never taught me mountain-climbing, but serving in uniform did imbue me with some lessons that have guided me throughout my life. First, there is no other place in the world that a young person can expect to be given more responsibility at an earlier age than in the military. At 22, I was conning the ship. Match that anywhere else.
Second, the military instills self-discipline and responsibility that can place you in good stead for the rest of your career. Standing watches around the clock, I learned how to show up for work on time, give my all to the job, and work with other people as a team. I learned how to give orders, and how to take them as well. And I learned how to acquire a sense of self-worth. You can't ask for a better curriculum for life.
I've seen several Answering the Call essays in which the writer ends up musing about how much better the country would be if all young people had to spend some time in uniform. As unnecessary as that may seem to many, I can fully endorse that sentiment. The Navy really did help me. If I hadn't had that experience, I'm not sure how I would have ended up.
But I do know that the time I spent in uniform, brief as it was, has influenced my life long after I packed those service dress blues into the closet. For all my advantages, I was young and impressionable when I joined the service. I feel fortunate that I absorbed what it had to offer, and that I was able to serve in wartime to help defend and protect the United States.