A Lieutenant’s 1955-56 Report on Raritan Arsenal — Fifty Seven Years Past His Deadline

1. When I arrived at Raritan Arsenal as an Army ROTC trained Second Lieutenant in December 1954 I was already a bit familiar with the place from graduating at nearby Rutgers University. Four years earlier Rutgers was still struggling with post war expansion and it was lacking dormitory space so my first dormitory bunk was in the former WWII Italian prison camp borrowed by Rutgers from Raritan Arsenal. The fenced-in compound with streets of wooden two story barracks looked the same as those nearby at Camp Kilmer. There was no food there but a regular bus shuttled the prison camp freshmen across the Raritan River to and from the Rutgers campus.
2. Supply was what Raritan Arsenal was all about; ordnance supply meaning weapons of all kinds, armored combat vehicles, military trucks, repair parts and ammunition. The major activity was the preservation of all serviceable materiel against deterioration and constant reconditioning was a part of the storage process. Besides receipt, storage and shipment the Arsenal re-manufactured salvageable arms and vehicles to even better than new quality standards. Ammunition was stored in a separately guarded and wide area in powder magazines that were protected from each other. Railroads and Raritan River docks provided efficient freight service for the New York harbor.
3. The Arsenal’s military garrison was a staff organization and not a chain of command over a series of descending military units. There was one commanding officer assisted by some 30 commissioned and a few non-commissioned officers. Civilian supervision used its own chains of authority. A military staff officer was in charge of every civilian unit on behalf of the Arsenal military commanding officer. The acronym, VOCO, meant voice of the commanding officer.
4. My major assignment was Officer-in-Charge of Raritan’s 146 acre Carteret Storage Activity, a truck sub-depot that employed 130 civilians ten miles north of the main 3200 acre Arsenal. An army sedan was provided for me to cover my responsibilities I had at Carteret and the main Arsenal headquarters.
5. Our Post Commanding Officer was Colonel Walter Gerken, a fine army officer whom we all respected. After 57 years I can still recall most of his staff. We were the Armed Service Forces 9359^th Technical Ordinance Unit.Lt Col  J.D. Noel, Post Executive Officer
   Lt Col  Lawrence Zaumeyer, succeeded Col. Noel and Col. Phillips as Post Executive Officers
   Capt  L. J. Adamczyk, Adjutant
   Lt  “Dub” Taylor, Adjutant Assistant
   Master Sgt Paterson, Adjutant Assistant
   Lt. Col  R.E. Phillips, Supply Operations Managing Officer and Post Executive Officer
   Lt Col  O.H. Richardson, (succeeded Col. Phillips as Supply Operations Managing Officer)
   Capt  Williams,  Officer of Supply Operations Storage
   Capt  McMillan, Officer of Supply Operations Ammunition
   Major  Smires, Supply Operations staff
   Major  Henry Bacon, Supply Operations staff
   Capt  Tibbetts, Supply Operations staff
   Lt  Harry Apel, Supply Operations staff
   Lt  Frank Pish, Supply Operations staff
   Lt  Tankersley, Supply Operations staff
   Lt  William Coffin, Supply Operations staff and Officer-in –Charge, Carteret Vehicle Sub-Depot
   Lt  Col. T.M. Daley, Managing Officer, Ordnance Supply and Demand Analysis Agency
   Major  Downey, Post Provost Marshall
   Major  Mc Dermott, Officer of Post Quartermaster Services
   Capt  Knoblock, Officer of Post Transportation Services
   Capt  Comitz, Post Officers’ Club Manager                                                                                            Capt  Hammond, Post Cafeteria Manager
   Major  K. M. Rackham                                                                                                                             Major  F.M. Babes
   Capt  Gifford
   Capt  Broomall
   Lt  De Quoy, former Carteret O. I. C. reassigned to Huntsville, ALIt is difficult for me to recall civilian employee names, possibly because they had no military rank for me to associate their names with but I still recall the great work they did and the pleasure I had to be with and to learn from them. I do remember Fred Bedman, our civilian chief of Supply Operations who reported to Lt Col Richardson. Another name in our office was a fellow by the name of Adamo, Mike Koscik, our post civilian public relations officer and “Steiny” Steinhauer at the motor pool. Civilian managers I remember at the Carteret Sub-depot were Charlie Dietrich, Wendell Yaros, Frank Pochick and Earl Clooney.

6. Many of the civilian employees were still military in some way; veterans, reservists or National Guard. I heard no war hero tales because these folks preferred to tell tall stories about outsmarting the brass or busy making deals when they were in uniform. Yet a reminder of the toll of war was a large packaging production line located on the block behind headquarters that employed only disabled veterans. In 1955 there were still WWI working veterans and those who served in not one but several of the 20^th Century wars.
7. Raritan Arsenal, originated in 1917, was strategically located to be near the New York harbor. Nearby were Perth Amboy and South Amboy, the two places that were shattered in a huge dynamite and mine explosion from a South Amboy loading pier in May 1950. That was the third of the largest explosions in the Raritan Bay area since 1918 but they were commercial mishaps, not Raritan Arsenal’s that did have a few lesser explosions of its own.
8. Raritan Arsenal was known to be a country club with its shade trees, spacious turf and the most attractive colonial red brick architecture that faced the headquarters, hospital, offices and some residences. But drive by observers from Woodbridge Avenue did not see the enormously wide spread industrial and ammunition operations that lay beyond the modest nine-hole golf course.The swank reputation may have some roots from the Army’s Ordnance Specialist School that was established there from 1919 to 1941, now a part of the Middlesex County College campus. Raritan’s entire Ordnance Specialist School was moved to the Aberdeen Proving Ground in Maryland and re-named, The Ordnance School, where I graduated prior to my assignment to Raritan. From anywhere a letter would find me at this mailing address; SOD TOS APG, MD. Raritan Arsenal’s original Army Ordnance School is now located at Fort Lee, Va.

9. Building 118, the former army post hospital and now Middlesex County College’s North Hall, still interests me. I resided close by there in the former nurse’s quarters, Building NQ-10, a single story wooden barracks once located at the junction of Hof and Residential drives. North Hall closely resembles the old arsenal headquarters building near Woodbridge Ave. but the commanding officer’s dwelling facing the headquarters differed by looking like a white columned southern mansion. Unknown to us back then was the large and notorious un-exploded ordnance burial called site # 17 near Building 118. Our only explosions were from the coal gas in NQ-10’s failing old furnace that would blow the furnace room doors open.
10. Tanks are worth mentioning because they would attract more of the visiting public on Armed Forces Open House Day. Col. Gerken would never allow a tank to leave the Arsenal for a local parade because one could wreck a block full of parked cars before the driver could put the brakes on. If that didn’t happen the local mayor might expect the Arsenal to re-pave his streets torn up from turning tank tracks.Most tanks we had were the post WWII M-47 Patton medium class that weighed 50 tons and you stayed away from any tank because its poor driver visibility. When a dock crane loaded an M-47 it would tilt one end of a big barge clear out of the water. Loading the second tank beside the first one would level the barge back into the water like a see-saw motion. The WWII M series tanks took more driving skill to shift a mighty rough standard transmission versus the M-47’s automatic transmission that allowed you remotely steer the vehicle and shift with a single control knob.

11. The Arsenal had an artillery shop capable of handling the larger 155mm and 8 inch bore howitzers. This was an impressive place with a huge indoor overhead gantry crane. During one night while I was Officer -of- the- Guard I was summoned when the Arsenal’s 24/7 ambulance was responding to an accident at the artillery shop. A huge gun barrel had slipped its crane harness and severed a worker’s foot.
12. The industrial area had many large warehouses, machine shops, assembly lines, office buildings and much outdoor storage for vehicles and artillery. The ammunition area was fenced in with separate security and had rows of two kinds of storage magazines. There was the strong concrete igloo surrounded by earth to contain a blast and there was the brittle terra cotta structure that was designed to disintegrate. The Arsenal is said to have had 247 buildings and 80 were ammo magazines.
13. Raritan Arsenal can be remembered for not only its hardware but also for its logistics software development in the mid-1950’s that changed how the future US Army was to be supplied. No Arsenal history of this period should overlook the significance of the Ordnance Supply and Demand Analysis Agency (OSDAA). Supply is worth little without reliable delivery to its final user. Supply analysis reports what was consumed in the supply line without regard to substitutes caused by stock shortages. Demand analysis also reports what was really needed.An OSDAA example is a battlefield emergency where a repair part shortage could mean substituting a disabled truck with a new truck. Supply analysis could end up re-supplying too many replacement trucks and still not the originally desired repair part. The additional demand analysis data focuses on that repair part that was never shipped. The result is a more efficient supply line with more of the wanted items and fewer unwanted items.

14. OSDAA data processing in the mid-1950’s used an Army Machine Records Unit (MRU) to handle its work. In only a few years the main frame computers would begin to replace the MRU punch card IBM machines, a marvelous workhorse technology that worked so well for so many different businesses before the computers. In 1955 the whole Army had but one operating main frame computer, the ENIAC. I had seen the ENIAC used for artillery ballistics at Aberdeen Proving Ground and it required 34,000 vacuum tubes. Raritan Arsenal was not about to get one but the OSDAA technicians were using MRU software that was similar to the logic procedures used with the electronic computers.
15. In early 1956 Raritan Arsenal opened up the Modern Army Supply System (MASS) Project, a forerunner of today’s overnight UPS, Fed-Ex and USPS air-freight.  In a day or two a repair shop in Germany could get a repair part directly from Raritan Arsenal that was close to McGuire Air Force Base. This was to replace thousands of parts depots and supply dumps scattered around the world much like the giant cargo planes have replaced the troop trains and troop ships of WWII.
16. On the other hand the Arsenal street speed limit was 10 mph and strictly enforced by the Provost Marshall (military police chief), not the job of Capt. Comstock and his 125^th Military Police CID (Criminal Investigation Detachment) that had other work to do. No lighters or matches of any kind were allowed in the ammunition area and “strike anywhere” match prohibition signs were seen throughout the entire arsenal. The Arsenal was not a bad guy place that needed its own CID. The CID worked anywhere in the First Army area headquartered at Governors Island and was kept busy investigating anything from auto accidents to sleuthing the cleverest of spy moles.
17. Both OSDAA and Project MASS called upon the Arsenal to create new procedures and re-design with its warehousing. Bin picking items to fill an order can be a bottleneck to fast shipment. The Army had believed that fast moving items must be stocked nearest the loading dock and the slow movers kept to the rear. Yet this sensible older storage procedure was challenged when the new technology could speed things up with a different arrangement.
18. Raritan Arsenal had two additional facilities, so-called sub-depots but officially named storage activities. The Delaware Storage Activity was located by the Delaware River at Pedrickstown, NJ and one of its tasks was to melt the TNT like wax from old artillery shells with steam heat. The other was the Carteret Storage Activity at Carteret, NJ that was kept busy storing and re-manufacturing trucks. Delaware had 85 acres and Carteret 146.
19. As I mentioned before my primary duty was Officer-in-Charge of the Carteret Storage Activity.  About three thousand trucks were in open storage; most in new condition from the re-manufacturing activity and rest were un-serviceable WWII military trucks waiting to be re-built or sold as junk.  Carteret had a headquarters building, firehouse, infirmary, cafeteria, two production line buildings, sandblast building, body shop, upholstery shop, other vehicle component shops and three railroad sidings. At this time Carteret was re-building WWII ¾ ton Dodge weapons carriers for shipment to Saudi Arabia under the Mutual Defense Armament Pact (MDAP). Soldiers called this smaller truck a, “beep”, because it looked like a big jeep.
20. In early 1956 the Army decided to close the Carteret Storage Activity and I was still left with the detail of moving all the equipment and vehicles to Raritan Arsenal. We had no open storage space left for the unserviceable vehicles at Raritan so I obtained permission to store them in a remote place in the ammunition area; providing I would certify that each vehicle had no battery and completely without any trace of fuel. Employees at Carteret kept their jobs by doing the same work at the Arsenal. Our neighboring Camp Kilmer (opened in 1942) was inactivated in 1955 and that closed the PX, food commissary and medical conveniences for Raritan Arsenal people.Today the question of what the U.S. Army Ordnance was at Carteret comes up as a mystery on the Internet and records of it are largely gone. Recently I accidentally discovered much more about Carteret’s role in WWII and have become so fascinated that I have written separate paper about its story.

21. One of my additional duties was being the witnessing officer of the destruction of obsolete ammunition. This was done by burning in a very large and deep open pit. I neither witnessed nor signed any document to bury un-exploded ordnance. I had not even heard of that since we were responsible to recover any discovered un-exploded ordnance.I believe the widespread explosives burials began shortly after WWII when just too much of everything was being shipped into the Arsenal. Someone was left with no procedure and had to make a quick decision for disposing of outdated and unstable explosives that could potentially ignite the whole place.  The disarming of Japan included the dumping of live ammunition at sea. Why so much explosive hazard was buried next to a hospital escapes me.Some other assignments I had were managing the post recreation fund, the Officers’ Club Board, arranging trucks and artillery for local parades, providing a jeep and caisson for military funerals and serving as a summary court martial.

22. Raritan Arsenal’s history was not to escape a theft scam. In 1949 nine men were caught stealing 750 small arms and the severe consequences impacted many Arsenal people because they continued to talk about it fearfully for years after.I was told that during the initial investigation employees were not allowed to go home until after they were questioned for many days. Sleeping and feeding arrangements were provided. When I arrived five years later the FBI was still everywhere questioning people and recruiting confidential informants. Getting involved as an FBI informant was not advisable without the knowledge of your commanding officer.

23. That big bust did not deter some petty theft. Without warning there could be a traffic jam by the main exit gate at quitting time when the guards would do a surprise search. I never heard of anyone being caught because a litter of hand tools would be seen in the lawn approaching the gate. At least the Army could get its pliers back.

23. One day I was ordered to assist the local Civil Defense that was searching for a missing 10 year old girl who was feared to be drowned swimming on a lake or lost in the tall reeds in the surrounding flood plain of the Raritan River. The arsenal sent with me two DUKW amphibious trucks, two Studebaker amphibious tracked weasels and a 5 ton rated tow truck. The Navy sent helicopters. The girl’s body was found by a diver on the lake bottom, known as Mirror Lake, formerly quarried for clay and treacherously deep in too many places.
24. I had day assignments at Lakehurst Naval Air Station. We needed its rifle range to zero the sights of ten thousand new M1-D sniper rifles (the venerable WWII M-1 Garand rifle equipped with a scope and leather padding).I was curious to see the site where the dirigible, Hindenburg, explosion disaster occured while landing at Lakehurst in 1937. Strangely, no one at Lakehurst seemed to know the location. Someone cautioned me I would be disappointed because nothing was there. He was right. I found only a large old pavement area with weeds and distant hangers. An author of a recent history about the disaster observed the same as I did. He reasons that since the Hindenburg was a Nazi ship with a swastika on its tail there was little incentive to place a memorial where it burned.

26. College ROTC was compulsory for two years because Rutgers was a federal land grant college and four years was optional. I did not want ROTC as a freshman because it was one more required course under a heavy work load. Later during my civilian career I found my four years of ROTC and my active duty experience was worth any graduate degree because of the management skills I had learned. More serious was that the Rutgers Army ROTC taught us that winning means saving lives in combat with even greater emphasis on how we should avoid wars to begin with.
27. Military courtesy at Raritan Arsenal began upon your arrival when you, as a commissioned officer and your wife, were expected to make a social call at the residence of your immediate superior and also another visit with the post Commanding Officer and they with their wives would also visit you in return. Saluting was always smartly exchanged while in uniform. Rank was casual in social circles if no one was wearing a uniform. One of my favorite reminders about how to get along with the Army is that it does not make you do anything; it only makes you wish to God that you had.I once heard that a military social announcement might invite the officers and their ladies and enlisted men and their wives. The Raritan command I was under would never have tolerated that distinction and besides some of our military social events invited Arsenal civilian men and, of course, their ladies.

28. A few army career captains and majors arrived at Raritan after spending their post WWII years in Japan and Korea. They were reserve army commissioned officers and they were being notified of reduction in force (RIF).  This meant they would have to accept their regular army non-commissioned ranks as sergeants if they wanted to remain in the Army until their retirements. But we younger lieutenants were encouraged to remain in the Army for careers. The officers’ wives had more difficulty accepting the RIFs than their husbands because they were more attached to their social circles that would be broken by military rank segregation.
29. The Army teaches there is no such thing as an unloaded gun. At Raritan we had a civilian safety officer who did a great job keeping us all safety minded. I like to credit that good fellow for saving my own life, plus a good truck.I was to lead a truck convoy that was lined up for me on an Arsenal street and I arrived early and alone to inspect. The procedure required not to trust the gas gauges and to remove all gas caps to assure full tanks. Holding a lit cigarette away at arms-length seemed safe enough but that safety officer’s voice told me to get rid of it. The first tank under pressure from the hot sun showered me with gasoline and thoroughly soaked my uniform. I discovered that all the other trucks would do the same unless I removed the caps very slowly. The caps had been improperly tightened to a second notch designed for the snorkeled truck to temporarily run under water.

30. Arsenal golf was popular and available to both military and civilians but I preferred the skeet and pistol ranges with several other officers. First, we had to re-build the long abandoned shooting ranges. One had purchased a surplus Springfield 1903, a famous predecessor infantry rifle to the WWII M-1, and modified it to be a sophisticated sport rifle. I went deep sea fishing once and luckily for the blue fish I was prone to seasickness. The Officers’ Club and the swimming pool were frequent centers for family gatherings.
31. I previously mentioned while Officer-In Charge at Carteret I had assigned to me a 1951 Army Chevy Sedan from the Arsenal motor pool which was the most beat up and noisy car it had. After Carteret was closed I kept driving it until the First Army Inspector General forced me to turn it in because I didn’t have Carteret anymore or enough rank. This annoyed my boss because he too enjoyed the convenience of my Chevy. So he successfully pulled his rank as lieutenant colonel to have his own G.I. sedan. But he was no happier when the motor pool assigned us the same old clunker, car number RA-17. The problem took care of itself when somehow RA-17 got mixed in with our truck re-manufacturing line and then sent back to us in totally new condition. The commanding officer’s car, another 1951 Chevy designated as RA-1 was immaculate, kept washed and parked by the motor pool in its reserved spot in front of headquarters each morning.
32. Officer-of-the -Guard for a 24 hour period was a rotated duty among all the lower ranking commissioned and the higher ranking including the Commanding Officer were always on call for a serious emergency. The Officer-of-the-Guard was issued a blue OG arm band, a web belt with a loaded 45 cal. revolver and a ring binder with instructions for any occurrence. The OG was in charge of the Arsenal security and the dispatching of emergencies. The 24 hour duty was the same as any other day except the OG had to be reached by phone. I was on duty the August 1956 night when Hurricane Betsy did much damage and the night when the teletype machine informed us we did not exist anymore because the Arsenal was completely blown away during a nationwide nuclear attack drill. Betsy’s rain flooded many places that kept me up all night in a car and one flood  nearly shut down the central telephone switchboard.
33. Colonel Walter W. Gerken, Commanding Officer, spoke softly with a slight smile. His humor was always ready for the right moment. He was medium height, thin with distinctively light blond hair. Two silver eagles, the rank of a full (bird) colonel glistened on his broad shoulders. He loved to talk about his native up-state New York and ran the Arsenal so well that his capable executive officers would know that it in his absence. He kept reminding his officers to keep themselves in good physical condition and by the way, some extra target practice won’t harm you either.
34. Our uniforms were the WWII and Korean vintage; the cooler weather (pinks and greens) with a dark olive jacket and reddish tan trousers or the (shade 7 Ike jacket) olive drab. Sun tan was the warmer weather wear that was optional in both casual and the formal. Work fatigues were darker olive green and not the camouflage seen so much today. We were not expected to wear work fatigues or plain white T-shirts off post. Like daylight saving time we were given dates for changing uniform with the season.
35. The Madsen Sader, an automatic rifle from Denmark, was tested at the Arsenal’s small arms test chamber located in the small arms building directly behind headquarters. Regardless of the chamber sound proofing the getting used to the noise was a part of your job at headquarters. The Army was searching for a basic infantry rifle to replace the venerable M-1 Garand semi-automatic and the heavier Browning automatic rifles with a new one and a much increased rate of fire but a reduced bore to allow carrying more ammo. This led to the M-14 and M-16 rifles but the Madsen Sader was a candidate. The infantryman needs a high rate of fire but must also have a rifle bore that will resist wear. The Madsen Sader approached this problem by supplying two extra matched set of barrels.
36. Raritan Arsenal’s small arms plant was quite large and handled weapons even from around the world with its multiple production lines. There is a distinct difference between a civilian gun enthusiast and a foot soldier with his rifle. Cosmoline is a brown gummy preservative that takes hours to clean off a rifle but it is very effective, even to preserve a tank from corrosion. When issued a new rifle a foot soldier would realize two things; something big was coming up and there is that cosmoline that has to be removed. But the Raritan small arms plant used an open tank of trichloroethylene vapor that would dissolve the gunk off completely within a few minutes.
37. The Army would discipline anyone who modified the M-1 rifle to fire more accurately with a hair trigger that would too often fire accidentally or fire automatically (without pulling the trigger for each shot). Bob, one of our small arms specialists, could show you how to automatic fire an M-1 without a modification and without risking a court martial. He could grasp any M-1 rifle at his hip with both hands, stretch it firmly, squeeze the trigger and it would burp like a machine gun.
38. I had experienced much of the Army’s heavy weapon hardware and even saw the giant 280 mm atomic cannon fire a dummy round at Aberdeen Proving Ground. At Raritan Arsenal there was something else that was awesome and that was preparedness for a civil disturbance or a riot. The Arsenal had a warehouse loaded with many racks of fixed bayonet rifles, shot guns, smoke grenades and machine guns ready for a moment’s notice. I knew how they were to be deployed because my training had included instruction for riot disbursement but it seemed so un-nerving to face the possibility of using such force with people on a street.Essential to disbursing a riot is proper troop training for trying first to calm things down and avoid injury and destruction. Unfortunately, well trained troops for a civil disturbance are not always available in such an emergency. The bayonet is a terrifying weapon but that alone can stop some kinds of violence without injury. A most effective weapon against violence is a loudspeaker with a calm and persuasive voice but that must be supported by determined and disciplined troops.

39. The Arsenal Supply Operations had received an urgent order from the Smithsonian Institute for two modified military cargo trucks to use on an African research safari. Big fresh water tanks and larger fuel capacities were wanted among the big list of things.  Extra work hours were necessary to meet the deadline which was finally met and the two trucks were shipped. The sad news soon came back after a ship’s crane ruined one of the trucks by dropping it on the dock at Baltimore so the safari had to be canceled.
40. I was placed on the Officers’ Club Board held responsible for the health of the golf course turf. My college major was plant science in the field of agronomy so I kept the turf nice and green by not bothering the greens keeper. An officer was embarrassed one night at the Club House when his 45 revolver fired accidentally and the slug shattered the dresser in his bedroom. The dresser was Club property and not the Army’s but the post quartermaster had a surplus dresser and donated a replacement.
41. The former WWII Italian prisoner-of-war compound was located just south of the Club House, now West Hall, and accessed by Mill Road. I found that some 51,000 Italian prisoners of war from North Africa, Sicily, and Italy were kept in compounds like this during WWII. Most of these folks were found to be harmless. Many were given privileges and some remained to spend the rest of their lives in the United States.
42. In September 1956 I left Raritan Arsenal as a 1^st Lieutenant, the same year President Eisenhower won his second term and he continued to downsize his oversized military forces. By 1960 the U-2 spy plane photos disclosed that Russia did not have such a large and threatening military force after all. The 1948-49 Berlin blockade proved that huge tonnages of supplies can be efficiently airlifted even before the giant cargo jet planes. Raritan Arsenal’s own OSSDA and MASS technology surely must have played some role toward its own closure in 1963.
43. I had a son born at Camp Kilmer and since a commissioned officer must pay for his own meals my only cost was eight dollars to pay for the mother’s meals and the baby’s formula. An army wife did not escape military discipline either. If she exceeded her allowed weight during pregnancy she was immediately admitted to the army hospital with no exception and regardless of the family situation at home.
44. Garrison life as a supply officer might sound dull but I found it fascinating. Supply is so vital to an army. If you can block your enemy’s supply line and keep your own open you could win without a battlefield. That is what Raritan Arsenal was all about.
45. In addition to my own spoken experiences included are some suggested Internet website visuals of Raritan Arsenal.a) Historic photos of Arsenal buildings
    http://www.flickr.com/photos/roadgeek/collections/72157622801598194/b) Building 118
    http://www.google.com/imgres?num=10&hl=en&biw=876&bih=456&tbm=isch&tbnid=dwMorYAIfmigzM:&imgrefurl=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Raritan_Arsenal_Building_118.jpg&docid=QyfGGz_UYWvagM&imgurl=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/2b/Raritan_Arsenal_Building_118.jpg/1280px-Raritan_Arsenal_Building_118.jpg&w=1280&h=960&ei=3d5PUJeTB4jl0QGg-4CwBg&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=404&sig=116264083974507674389&page=1&tbnh=122&tbnw=180&start=0&ndsp=9&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0,i:76&tx=75&ty=52

    c) Unexploded Ordnance Story, Robert Nore
    http://www.dtic.mil/cgi-bin/GetTRDoc?AD=ADA519950

    d) Former Arsenal Headquarters, 2800 Woodbridge Ave
    http://www.loc.gov/pictures/collection/hh/item/nj1350.photos.380856p/resource/

    e) Raritan Arsenal Carteret, NJ Truck Sub-depot, street map prior 1950
    http://www.irwinsjournal.com/carteret.jpg

    f) Raritan Arsenal Delaware Sub-depot, Pedricktown, NJ, history text
    http://www.cbp.ctc.com/current_projects/pedricktown/pedricktown.html

    g) Historic aerial photo map website. For West Hall location input coordinates in address box 40.50538 (space) -74.370971 9 (do not neglect minus sign before 74). Follow site instructions for further navigation and photo options over your entire area selection.
    http://www.historicaerials.com/
    
    h) Army to Retain Carteret site, Carteret Sub-depot closure and history from Woodbridge Library
    http://archive.woodbridgelibrary.org/Archive/showpub.cgi?pub_title=Carteret%20Press&issueyear=1956&issuemonth=03&issueday=16&pagenum=1

    i)Raritan Arsenal Headquarters brochure and other collectibles
    http://www.worthpoint.com/inventory/search?query=Raritan+Arsenal

    j) Italian Prisoners of War
    http://www.colorantshistory.org/ItalianPOWCamp.html

    k) U.S. Gov’t seizes 920 acres for Raritan arsenal expansion Dec 24, 1941
    http://archive.woodbridgelibrary.org/Archive/FordsBeacon/1941/1941-12-24/pg_0001.pdf

    i) Raritan Arsenal Commanding Officer, Col. Gerken, publicity photo Jan 6, 1955
    http://archive.woodbridgelibrary.org/Archive/FordsBeacon/1955/1955-01-06/pg_0005.pdf

A lengthy campaign to make the big move from the service of mammon to the halls of academe had not gone well until, out of the blue; came a tip to call a guy at this new college in Edison. “His name is Mike Reynolds and he’s the dean of students there.” An interview was set up, and in late July 1966 I met the dean in a residential-looking building marked Center III. It seemed to go OK, and then, noting I was a captain in the Army Reserve, he asked, “What’s the date of your commission?” I told him, and he muttered, “Damn.” Turned out he was a Marine Reserve captain – and that I outranked him by a month! We then went to meet President Frank Chambers, a very impressive man who was clearly committed to the mission of the public two-year college. In the course of things, he elaborated on the master plan and its extensive construction prospectus – at which point I let slip something to the effect that good teachers are a lot more important than mere bricks and mortar. That tears it, I rued, but a day or so later Reynolds called to offer me the position of admissions counselor. It paid just over half of what I’d been making ‘downtown’ but it was a beginning….

An initial enrollment of at least 700 was essential for the college to float financially, and we were still shy of that when, on the second Monday in August I reported in to admissions director Joan Purtell. She briefed me on the criteria for each of the seven majors, explained the procedures we followed, and emphasized that we would not accept the unqualified, save for remedial study. I sat in on some of her applicant interviews, and before long, I was on my own, carrying a full load of, say, nine appointments a day and perhaps as many walk-ins, many bearing on lack of academic preparation. While most were productive, a few others were memorable for different reasons: A persistent candidate went into labor in the waiting room, and thanks to the campus police, made it to the hospital just in time. Even more determined in a way was an attractive thirty-something who lacked the prerequisites for the popular RN major; she shut the door to my office, began unbuttoning her blouse, and calmly announced, “I will do anything – anything at all you want me to do – if you will admit me to the nursing program.” Totally flustered, I blurted, “What I want you to do is take biology and chemistry.”

In mid-September the faculty came “on board” (Dr. Chambers was a retired Navy captain, so campus argot tended to reflect nautical vernacular), and an impressive bunch they were, a blend of distinguished elder scholars like Charles Montrose and James Lorens, and younger types – Charles DiDomenico comes quickly to mind – eager for the fulfilling task of teaching first- and second-year students. Joan, a really good boss by the way, and I had little time to partake of the welcoming festivities since we were busy bringing in late applicants, and constantly topping off filled majors from waiting lists when ‘admits’ decided they weren’t coming after all. The ‘non­ academic’ admissions crew, who toiled along with us under intense, unremitting pressure, then included the dignified, unflappable Eleanor Gordon, and Anne Potter, whose compassion and thoughtfulness did much to assuage our oft-confused, apprehensive clientele.

Our ‘ta-da’ moment finally arrived when in late September 728 students appeared for orientation and the subsequent onset of classes – a remarkable accomplishment by admissions, financial aid and registrar’s offices, particularly at a time when all acceptance and rejection, and award letters were typed individually, and schedules were hand-crafted by wizard Registrar, Muriel (Willy) Wilhelm – this because our data processing systems then were barely this side of parchment and squeaking quill pens.

Could we, now that the class was in, take a breather? No way; fall meant going to visit all the county high schools for ritual presentations to seniors and getting to know their guidance people, some of whom, unfortunately, were negatively predisposed toward county colleges in general, and ‘Edison U,’ as we’d been dubbed, in particular. (That would change) Also, a number of ‘college nights’ were held for high school students and their parents to hear recruitment spiels by reps from Rutgers, the State colleges, private institutions, and MCC. As well, Joan and were besieged by swarms of our students who now wanted to drop courses or withdraw completely. The ‘whys’ for this are found in numerous institutional studies, not least among them lack of motivation and the belief that a two-year college would be easy. There was one other counselor, but since she was assigned solely to develop various grant proposals, an awful lot of students with problems came to Center III, where indeed many had begun their college experiences.

As applications for the fall 1967 class began pouring in, our review of applicant credentials and related interviews were punctuated by the endless ‘ka-whump, ka-whump’ of massive pile­drivers as they pounded home the foundations of Main Hall, some 50 yards distant. (Fortunately the Library had been completed). Surcease from this and the press of applicant evaluation came at midday when Joan would usually dine with the other ‘brass’ and I’d stroll over to the Raritan Hall cafeteria, which dished out surprisingly good chow. The best part was getting to know some of the teaching faculty, a sort of bonding, really; our impromptu gatherings in a small adjacent room were delightfully stimulating, with conversations ranging from profound to humorous. One day an English instructor, a witty, kind of urbane guy, joined the group and he and I hit it off right away, not least when he, noticing that my pipe was empty, proffered his tobacco pouch and said, “Here, try some of mine.” Thus did Larry Cohen and I meet – the beginning of what would become a wonderful friendship.

Right from the get-go, the admissions operation was a year-long pressure-cooker. We often went to the wire to fill certain majors, and conversely took a lot of heat from applicants and their surrogates, seeking acceptance to small, popular majors; calls from sundry politicians were not uncommon, but we held the line, and Dr. Chambers backed us to the hilt. Our colleagues on the instructional side were heard from, too, for with most curricula experiencing attrition, they wanted both abler students, and more of them. A few departments wished to elevate already stiff entrance requirements, while others sought to essentially eliminate them. We in admissions listened, and mostly held firm to what we believed best for the students. How were we viewed by our teaching friends? With a measure of appreciation and understanding, I think, but there did occur an odd aberration when I was approached by a faculty member who said he wanted a job in admissions. Was he going to give up teaching? Oh no, he’d keep that and do admissions part­time, just like me!

As my first complete cycle progressed, we added a modest number of openings at mid-year to make up the fall’s losses, and not ‘waste’ valuable faculty resources. As before, many curricular projections for the fall class were not met until just before classes began, a phenomenon that would continue throughout my 19 years at the College, and lead to the often contentious ‘late registration’ scene, featuring people who’d just applied fulminating because they couldn’t get the courses and times they wanted. (A wag likened these ugly events to the horror film ‘Rollerball’).

Ironically, MCC’s master plan called for substantial yearly increases in the number of students, while every one of our sending-school districts predicted steady declines. This paradox was offset somewhat by sizeable numbers of ‘non-traditional’ applicants – those out of high school for more than, say, three years, many in their 30s, 40s, and even 50s. Gone from memory are the stats on applications evaluated and students enrolled back then, but by the mid-1970s they averaged 6,000 and 4,000 respectively. In any case, by spring 1967, applications were flooding in so fast that a new admissions counselor slot was finally authorized, bringing Fred Hazlett aboard.

It may come across as incredibly naive by today’s lights, but most of us were really fired up by what we were about, and literally couldn’t wait to get to work each day, and as you can imagine, long hours were more rule than exception. What a rare and fulfilling experience to be literally ‘present at the creation’, from scratch, of a new institution of higher learning! Initiative was tacitly accepted, and if something needed doing, we’d go for it, as in, for instance, teaming up with reading specialist Andy Kistulentz to address the emergence of shocking weaknesses in that crucial area. Out of this evolved the reading skills center, and soon, under Bob Urbanski, a hotshot math variant. And while committee assignments took away critical job time, they offered further opportunities to associate with classroom colleagues, and usually dealt with interesting stuff; one of mine was academic standards, about which I knew little, save for having been on the receiving end 15 and more years earlier.

Although serious anti-war activism had yet to reach our campus, as it would several years later (remember “One, two, three, four…?”), a surprising number of male applicants candidly stated they were going to ‘school’ primarily to avoid the draft. One, in particular, a long-haired fellow – in my mind’s eye “The Cowardly Lion” – evoked my scorn as, sweating, groveling, he begged to be admitted to anything as long as it was full-time, credit, and carried a deferment. Still, betwixt ruminating on “judge not” and the emerging conviction that although ‘my’ war had been both necessary and just (really?), this one was neither, I began to mellow – a bit. Anyhow, We admitted the ‘Lion’; he graduated two years later, and transferred to Rutgers.

A few words about veterans: Many of them, some who had served before Vietnam, and a lot more who fought in that unfortunate war, chose MCC, and virtually all of them excelled, for having mastered military bureaucracy, they had little difficulty with academe’s variant. They soon formed a chapter of Alpha Sigma Mu, a nationwide vets’ fraternity, and I signed on as advisor. It was a wild ride at times because they played as hard as they studied, but my association with these men over the years was a high point: what determination, ingenuity – and humor! (A sidebar: Thanks to Continuing Ed. Dean Jerry Shindelman, I had the rare opportunity.to create and give an evening course known to some as Applied Psychology I, but listed in the catalogue under “HIS-223 U.S. Military History”. What a grand trip!)

Just for fun, here is a snippet of culture past as cited, in part, in “Announcement 1966-67”

STUDENT DRESS
For Men
Classes and Informal Parties – Trousers, sports shirts, sweaters, loafers
Receptions and Concerts – Suits, ties
Dances- Formal: Dark suits, dinner jackets
Informal: Suits, sports coats, shirts, ties

For Women
Classes and lnformal Parties – Skirts, sweaters, blouses, dresses, loafers
Teas, concerts, receptions – Hats or veils, heels, purses, gloves, suits or dresses
Dances – Formal: Dressy dresses, cocktail dresses, evening gowns
Informal: Dresses, street clothes, stockings, flats

Fast-forward to Spring 1968: about 300 of our first class graduated; Mike and Joan left, the former replaced by Bill Foose. Fall 1968: Another tete-a-tete with Dr. Chambers, wherein he and Foose offered me the top admissions job, and soon thereafter, financial aid. As I got up to leave, he smiled and said, “By the way, I happen to agree with you about the relative worth of teachers and buildings.” How about that!

Looking back, I’m pleased, proud even, that we in Admissions & Financial Aid got it done – and well – meeting ever-increasing enrollment projections year after year; coming up with the first EOF program in the State; providing judicious financial assistance to the needy; and most of all, through very individualized counseling, helping tens of thousands of the young and not-so- to find themselves. Still, as the saying goes, “It ain’t just the work, it’s the people.”, and we were blessed with the best. Here are some who served on the “Dream Team” during the early going, (with start year in parentheses):

Anne Potter (’66) moved to Counseling Services, then after a stint in PR, managed the new­ fangled word processing unit; Fred Hazlett (’67), became admissions director at Brookdale; counselor Frank Moore (’68), was soon snagged by Princeton; Dorothy Loper (’69), a former teacher and superb counselor, went on to head Open College; Genevieve Appleby (’67), was our venerable lady of the cards; Rosemary (Rocky) Lucanegro (’67), top-notch boss of our non-Academics, and my secretary – she who introduced the mini-skirt to the fold; Fred Hertrich (’69), outstanding financial aid administrator, later contract manager, long esteemed statewide as the Mr. Chips of Political Science; Joyce Mitchell (’69), the pied piper of EOF; Warren Kelemen (’70), whose subsequent meteoric rise took him to the very top; (Fred and Warren, I still miss our lunches); Bobbie Greene (’72), who would star in Continuing Ed leadership roles; Beth Pasture, (’72}, Fred’s whiz financial aid assistant; Ray Niederoest (’74), an MCC grad who, with BA in hand, returned to help his alma mater – and a host of indispensable work-study students.

My thanks to. you, and others to come, for all you did – and to you, Frank Chambers, for giving this 36-year-old with no relevant experience a chance. The journey was occasionally bumpy, but MCC did good things for me, mostly because, kind of like the military, it truly mattered, in ways ‘Wall Street’ inherently did not, at least to me. It was indeed a calling.

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