Reserve GI Still Recruiting after 60 Years
None are so old, Thoreau once wrote, as those who have outlived their enthusiasms.
By that standard, Sgt. Maj. Raymond Moran, the most chronologically advanced recruiter in the Army Reserve, might well also be its most youthful.
"This isn't work; it's a labor of love," says Moran, a beloved figure at Fort Meade who is embarking on his 60th year of doing what he loves most: finding prospects for the Army, then putting his cheerful personality to work guiding their careers.
Moran, who turned 80 last November, never guessed it would last this long. He enlisted in his hometown of Latrobe, Pa., in 1948, did basic training in Kentucky, and shipped out to Japan, where he helped keep the peace in post- World War II Tokyo.
But when the Korean War broke out in 1950, Moran and his unit, an infantry battalion in the 1st Cavalry Division, were called into battle and eventually moved deep into North Korea.
He has been a soldier ever since. He recruited in Washington, Pa., for 12 years; earned a Purple Heart (and his enduring nickname, "The Old Soldier") in Vietnam; and helped get the all-volunteer Army started in the 1970s.
At 60, Moran volunteered to serve during Desert Storm -- and did so. He tried to do the same in the wake of 9/11, at 70, but the Army drew the line. "At that age, you have to be a doctor or they won't take you," he says with an uncharacteristic pout.
Over the years, his country noticed his service. Moran, who has recruited well over a thousand men and women, is the only living person after whom Fort Meade ever named a street. Last year, the Army officially dubbed its new recruiters' hall of fame The Sgt. Maj. Ray Moran "Old Soldier" Hall of Fame -- and inducted Moran into the Fort Jackson, S.C., shrine that day.
Moran reports each morning to a Fort Meade office so jammed with posters, medals, trophies and autographed photos he has to keep a table in the hall to hold the overflow. He spoke with The Baltimore Sun of a long career, the changing face of his craft, and youth.
Your career really started in Asia, during the Korean War. What was it like there?
In the fall of 1950, everyone thought the war was over. Gen. MacArthur even asked my unit, the 7th Cavalry Regiment, to come back from Korea and "parade" in downtown Tokyo on Armistice Day. Bob Hope had come over to do one of his shows
Then we got awful news. In early November, the Chinese Communists came out of nowhere and attacked our buddies [at the Yalu River, in North Korea; more than 800 were killed.] We didn't even realize that army existed.
We had to go out to find soldiers who'd been killed. Many were shot in the back of the head, their hands tied behind them with barbed wire. That's who the enemy was.
Any good memories of that time?
When I was at the front lines, all I knew about my brother was he'd been assigned to a unit at APG in Maryland. But one day, here came this Army Jeep carrying an enlisted man. It was Sam! The 2nd Mortar Battalion had been sent over.
We sat down and wrote a letter home -- he'd write a little in his handwriting, then I'd write a little in mine. My parents kept that letter forever.
You've been recruiting since you returned in 1951. What's the appeal?
[After that war] we had to maintain an Army to defend this great country, to keep it free. And even if war is hard, I always felt I was helping somebody. I'm delighted to talk to anybody who's interested in the military.
They felt I was helping them, too. I've never had a complaint. My [recruits] kept me informed. I still get letters and postcards -- but now they're not from Korea or Vietnam, but from Iraq, Afghanistan, Kuwait.
What's the hardest part of the job?
It's not a job you just do a little bit, then quit for a while and pick it up again. You've got to be [recruiting] all the time -- handing out your card, letting people know you're around and available.
If they think kindly of you, if they respect you, they'll refer their friends and family members to you. It works well when you have a good reputation.
Any pointers on that?
I tell new recruiters, "Always bring family pictures and have them in your office. They're a reminder of something precious in your life -- a reminder to always tell the truth when you're talking to somebody who wants to serve their country."
There was a big sign in the auditorium of my high school. It said, "The truth shall make you free" And that's exactly what it does. You feel like you're a better man or woman all the way around.
Why is truth-telling such an issue for recruiters?
You don't want to tell anybody an untruth. Today, you don't want to tell anybody, "You're not going to be deployed." We've been in a war for eight years now, and we have all kind of casualties coming back. So you want to tell the truth. And when you do, you're respected for it. They understand.
Your career included the Vietnam War, when popular sentiment ran against the mission. Did you feel that?
I ran into that a little bit when I was [running] the Boston Recruiting Battalion. We had a recruiting station downtown, not far from Harvard. One of my sergeants called me one day and said, "Sergeant Major, we have some Harvard students who are donating their furniture." I said, "What do you mean?" He said, "They're throwing their chairs through our window." [Laughs.]
So yes, we had problems. But you replaced the window and continued to serve your country. You didn't quit because you had some people who opposed what you were doing.
You volunteered to go to Vietnam?
Well, they put out word they were looking for recruiters. They do that even today, with Iraq and Afghanistan. They become retention and re-enlistment sergeants. When I called in [in 1969], I said, "Do you have any need for sergeant majors?" They had two vacancies, one in the 101st Airborne, one in the "1st Cav." I said "Put me down for one."
Did you ask your wife, Barbara, first?
No, I didn't. [Laughs.] Her reaction was to say, "I knew you would!" She wasn't happy, but she has always been a wonderful Army wife. ... She's still a great volunteer, sending packages to the soldiers overseas.
In May of 1970, she wrote and said, "you volunteered to go over; now I'd like you to volunteer to come back. Please don't extend." I honored that request.
You were right there when the draft ended and volunteer soldiering began.
[That year] I got the best news I ever could have, though I didn't know it then. I was asked to be [senior NCO] of the 1st Recruiting Brigade at Fort Meade. They said, "Your job is going to be to start the new volunteer Army in that area -- you and the new colonel." We had to go out, open new recruiting stations, take care of housing our new recruiters, get phones and office space. I was on the ground floor of the volunteer Army.
Have you ever had second thoughts about America's missions?
No. I always thought they were well thought out, and important, and [if] they get to us, they're something that's so vital, it's important for us to help accomplish the mission. That's something soldiers are taught: Never leave a fallen hero behind; accomplish the mission. Whatever the mission is, lean forward in a foxhole.
How did things change when the military became all-volunteer [in 1973]?
It made an enormous difference. The drafted soldier did a great job for this country. He was a great warrior. But he didn't want to serve. Whereas the fellow who goes to the recruiter is volunteering to go. Today's military can perform its duties with motivated soldiers.
When you recruit a soldier in 2010, he or she will almost surely end up in a war zone. Does that change your feelings?
No. We're aware of what our country needs. We're here to help out in that. And [the recruits] know that. These young men and women today are into computers; they know everything that's happening. They even know what [career] options they want when they come in.
As a modern recruiter, do you keep up on things in Afghanistan and Iraq?
Oh, yes. [I tell people] Afghanistan will be like what North Korea was for me. It was bitter cold, like it is outside right now. We never slept in a bed for a year. ... I have a friend who told me his son is over there now, living in a tent. I said, "As bad as a tent is, it's still better than having no tent and still living out in the elements, in a foxhole with a sleeping bag wrapped around you." There are going to be a lot of hardships for our soldiers who serve over there.
Does today's slow economy help you in recruiting?
We know unemployment is bad. We'd rather see our country fully employed. That means we have to work harder, but that's what we want. But yes, it's a factor that comes into play -- one of many.
Do you have any other recruiting tips?
I've always felt if you're going to take a young man or woman away from [family], you should, out of respect, stay close to that family. I stay in touch by phone, e-mail, postcard. I get calls from all over. The family members become friends.
I have a saying: "Friends are better than money." I've been lucky enough to make many, many friends.
How are you still going at your age?
I've just always liked this. I continued on, and it has worked out beautifully. I certainly don't feel 80.
Barbara and I have always said, "health and happiness first." And as we age gracefully, we begin to realize we're slowing down -- it's part of the way things happen.
Do you work full-time?
My doctor found a bit of a heart constriction. He said, "I know you think age is unimportant, but ... your body is telling you different." I used to work even on Saturdays and Sundays, but now I work from 7 to 11 [in the morning] on weekdays, go home and take care of myself and Barbara. She's not used to having a husband home.
You're starting your 60th year as a recruiter. Do you plan to be doing this in another 10 years?
I'll help out as long as my health holds up. And I'll do it with a great deal of personal pride.
By that standard, Sgt. Maj. Raymond Moran, the most chronologically advanced recruiter in the Army Reserve, might well also be its most youthful.
"This isn't work; it's a labor of love," says Moran, a beloved figure at Fort Meade who is embarking on his 60th year of doing what he loves most: finding prospects for the Army, then putting his cheerful personality to work guiding their careers.
Moran, who turned 80 last November, never guessed it would last this long. He enlisted in his hometown of Latrobe, Pa., in 1948, did basic training in Kentucky, and shipped out to Japan, where he helped keep the peace in post- World War II Tokyo.
But when the Korean War broke out in 1950, Moran and his unit, an infantry battalion in the 1st Cavalry Division, were called into battle and eventually moved deep into North Korea.
He has been a soldier ever since. He recruited in Washington, Pa., for 12 years; earned a Purple Heart (and his enduring nickname, "The Old Soldier") in Vietnam; and helped get the all-volunteer Army started in the 1970s.
At 60, Moran volunteered to serve during Desert Storm -- and did so. He tried to do the same in the wake of 9/11, at 70, but the Army drew the line. "At that age, you have to be a doctor or they won't take you," he says with an uncharacteristic pout.
Over the years, his country noticed his service. Moran, who has recruited well over a thousand men and women, is the only living person after whom Fort Meade ever named a street. Last year, the Army officially dubbed its new recruiters' hall of fame The Sgt. Maj. Ray Moran "Old Soldier" Hall of Fame -- and inducted Moran into the Fort Jackson, S.C., shrine that day.
Moran reports each morning to a Fort Meade office so jammed with posters, medals, trophies and autographed photos he has to keep a table in the hall to hold the overflow. He spoke with The Baltimore Sun of a long career, the changing face of his craft, and youth.
Your career really started in Asia, during the Korean War. What was it like there?
In the fall of 1950, everyone thought the war was over. Gen. MacArthur even asked my unit, the 7th Cavalry Regiment, to come back from Korea and "parade" in downtown Tokyo on Armistice Day. Bob Hope had come over to do one of his shows
Then we got awful news. In early November, the Chinese Communists came out of nowhere and attacked our buddies [at the Yalu River, in North Korea; more than 800 were killed.] We didn't even realize that army existed.
We had to go out to find soldiers who'd been killed. Many were shot in the back of the head, their hands tied behind them with barbed wire. That's who the enemy was.
Any good memories of that time?
When I was at the front lines, all I knew about my brother was he'd been assigned to a unit at APG in Maryland. But one day, here came this Army Jeep carrying an enlisted man. It was Sam! The 2nd Mortar Battalion had been sent over.
We sat down and wrote a letter home -- he'd write a little in his handwriting, then I'd write a little in mine. My parents kept that letter forever.
You've been recruiting since you returned in 1951. What's the appeal?
[After that war] we had to maintain an Army to defend this great country, to keep it free. And even if war is hard, I always felt I was helping somebody. I'm delighted to talk to anybody who's interested in the military.
They felt I was helping them, too. I've never had a complaint. My [recruits] kept me informed. I still get letters and postcards -- but now they're not from Korea or Vietnam, but from Iraq, Afghanistan, Kuwait.
What's the hardest part of the job?
It's not a job you just do a little bit, then quit for a while and pick it up again. You've got to be [recruiting] all the time -- handing out your card, letting people know you're around and available.
If they think kindly of you, if they respect you, they'll refer their friends and family members to you. It works well when you have a good reputation.
Any pointers on that?
I tell new recruiters, "Always bring family pictures and have them in your office. They're a reminder of something precious in your life -- a reminder to always tell the truth when you're talking to somebody who wants to serve their country."
There was a big sign in the auditorium of my high school. It said, "The truth shall make you free" And that's exactly what it does. You feel like you're a better man or woman all the way around.
Why is truth-telling such an issue for recruiters?
You don't want to tell anybody an untruth. Today, you don't want to tell anybody, "You're not going to be deployed." We've been in a war for eight years now, and we have all kind of casualties coming back. So you want to tell the truth. And when you do, you're respected for it. They understand.
Your career included the Vietnam War, when popular sentiment ran against the mission. Did you feel that?
I ran into that a little bit when I was [running] the Boston Recruiting Battalion. We had a recruiting station downtown, not far from Harvard. One of my sergeants called me one day and said, "Sergeant Major, we have some Harvard students who are donating their furniture." I said, "What do you mean?" He said, "They're throwing their chairs through our window." [Laughs.]
So yes, we had problems. But you replaced the window and continued to serve your country. You didn't quit because you had some people who opposed what you were doing.
You volunteered to go to Vietnam?
Well, they put out word they were looking for recruiters. They do that even today, with Iraq and Afghanistan. They become retention and re-enlistment sergeants. When I called in [in 1969], I said, "Do you have any need for sergeant majors?" They had two vacancies, one in the 101st Airborne, one in the "1st Cav." I said "Put me down for one."
Did you ask your wife, Barbara, first?
No, I didn't. [Laughs.] Her reaction was to say, "I knew you would!" She wasn't happy, but she has always been a wonderful Army wife. ... She's still a great volunteer, sending packages to the soldiers overseas.
In May of 1970, she wrote and said, "you volunteered to go over; now I'd like you to volunteer to come back. Please don't extend." I honored that request.
You were right there when the draft ended and volunteer soldiering began.
[That year] I got the best news I ever could have, though I didn't know it then. I was asked to be [senior NCO] of the 1st Recruiting Brigade at Fort Meade. They said, "Your job is going to be to start the new volunteer Army in that area -- you and the new colonel." We had to go out, open new recruiting stations, take care of housing our new recruiters, get phones and office space. I was on the ground floor of the volunteer Army.
Have you ever had second thoughts about America's missions?
No. I always thought they were well thought out, and important, and [if] they get to us, they're something that's so vital, it's important for us to help accomplish the mission. That's something soldiers are taught: Never leave a fallen hero behind; accomplish the mission. Whatever the mission is, lean forward in a foxhole.
How did things change when the military became all-volunteer [in 1973]?
It made an enormous difference. The drafted soldier did a great job for this country. He was a great warrior. But he didn't want to serve. Whereas the fellow who goes to the recruiter is volunteering to go. Today's military can perform its duties with motivated soldiers.
When you recruit a soldier in 2010, he or she will almost surely end up in a war zone. Does that change your feelings?
No. We're aware of what our country needs. We're here to help out in that. And [the recruits] know that. These young men and women today are into computers; they know everything that's happening. They even know what [career] options they want when they come in.
As a modern recruiter, do you keep up on things in Afghanistan and Iraq?
Oh, yes. [I tell people] Afghanistan will be like what North Korea was for me. It was bitter cold, like it is outside right now. We never slept in a bed for a year. ... I have a friend who told me his son is over there now, living in a tent. I said, "As bad as a tent is, it's still better than having no tent and still living out in the elements, in a foxhole with a sleeping bag wrapped around you." There are going to be a lot of hardships for our soldiers who serve over there.
Does today's slow economy help you in recruiting?
We know unemployment is bad. We'd rather see our country fully employed. That means we have to work harder, but that's what we want. But yes, it's a factor that comes into play -- one of many.
Do you have any other recruiting tips?
I've always felt if you're going to take a young man or woman away from [family], you should, out of respect, stay close to that family. I stay in touch by phone, e-mail, postcard. I get calls from all over. The family members become friends.
I have a saying: "Friends are better than money." I've been lucky enough to make many, many friends.
How are you still going at your age?
I've just always liked this. I continued on, and it has worked out beautifully. I certainly don't feel 80.
Barbara and I have always said, "health and happiness first." And as we age gracefully, we begin to realize we're slowing down -- it's part of the way things happen.
Do you work full-time?
My doctor found a bit of a heart constriction. He said, "I know you think age is unimportant, but ... your body is telling you different." I used to work even on Saturdays and Sundays, but now I work from 7 to 11 [in the morning] on weekdays, go home and take care of myself and Barbara. She's not used to having a husband home.
You're starting your 60th year as a recruiter. Do you plan to be doing this in another 10 years?
I'll help out as long as my health holds up. And I'll do it with a great deal of personal pride.
