The following was written in 2005 by Kit Gorohoff, the oldest son of Michael Innokentevich Gorohoff
In response to many requests, I will summarize my military experience. It all started when I transferred from Seattle University to the University of Washington in September, 1950, after my freshman year. I had remedied my scholastic deficiencies, and planned to major in Meteorology, which was not offered at Seattle U. In those days, and maybe still, two years of ROTC was required at all land grant colleges. A further incentive, of course, was the Korean War, which had started up that summer. ROTC protected you from the draft. On registration day, I signed up for my fall quarter classes, and hiked over to the ROTC building, where there were three sign-in desks waiting: Army, Navy, and Air Force. As I headed for the desks, at the last second I remembered that the Air Force was the only service that drilled without rifles. This was decisive, and I veered over to the Air Force desk and signed up.
The classes were twice a week as I remember, plus a drill session. We were issued uniforms, which were required for drill. The uniforms were the khaki colored leftovers from the Army Air Corps days, since the now traditional blue uniforms had not reached the ROTC detachments. I had the privilege of starting my career in the brown shoe Air Force, converting to the now familiar blues shortly thereafter. The classes covered service history, organization, mission and so forth, leavened with weekly drills.
At the end of the spring quarter the second year, I stopped at the ROTC building to see if the grades had been posted. I ran into a high school friend, Dave Walloch, who was checking his Army ROTC grades. He offered to give me a ride home, but via Fort Lawton (now Discovery Park), since he had applied for Advanced ROTC, and had to go there to get a physical. When we got there, I figured I might as well also get a physical, and sign up for another two years. I didn’t give this much thought throughout the summer, but when I checked back in for my junior year, to my amazement, I found I had passed the physical and had been accepted into Advanced Air Force ROTC. Successful completion would result in a commission, and a three year service commitment. The best part was that I would also get paid $90 per month, which was wealth beyond my wildest dreams.
At the completion of my junior year, a six week summer camp was required. The camp was at Fort George Wright, a satellite of Fairchild Air Force Base in Spokane. This was to be our first taste of military life. We slept in open bay barracks, with some 50 or so cadets all sleeping in one large bay. We learned bed making skills for the 6AM inspections, toured Fairchild itself, climbed all over the B-36’s stationed there, and generally checked out all the facilities. We also did a lot of PT (physical training) and spent a few nights bivouacked in the woods around the fort. The food was to my liking, strangely enough, all the milk you could drink, eggs to order, and even chipped beef on toast, or SOS.
About half way through camp, we were called out on the drill field, and advised that there had been a change in Air Force policy. You would only get a commission if you applied and were accepted for flight training. Or, you could fulfill your obligation with a two year hitch as an enlisted man. All who wanted to fly were to fall in on the left, the rest on the right. The thought of flying had never before crossed my mind, but I thought why not, and fell in on the left. Other than that minor hiccup, I enjoyed the summer camp which had cadets from all the northwest colleges, met a lot of people, and all in all it seemed a pleasant break.