been a boxer. He told his buddies that was where he got his broken nose. “The guy just loved to mix it up.”
But Roland Pitre didn’t marry his gorgeous girlfriend Deb, and he wasn’t faithful to her, either. He almost always had several women on the string at once. One of them may have been Cheryl, whom he eventually did marry. “We all traveled to Pennsylvania once,” a buddy recalls. “Pete had a girlfriend there, too, who was a student nurse. I’m not sure what her name was. Her family lived on a farm just outside Union City.”
They had another pleasant visit in that small town close to Lake Erie. Roland Pitre never seemed to mind that his buddies knew that he cheated on his women. Indeed, he seemed proud of it and counted on them not to say the wrong thing.
They also knew that Pete lied, but they suspected he did it to be funny, and he didn’t hurt any of them; his fibs and outright lies were often hilarious. Early on, his closest Marine friend had his doubts about Pitre’s truthfulness. They were assigned to the same training schools, beginning with seven months of avionics classes at a base just outside Memphis, Tennessee. Then they were transferred to the Marine Composite Reconnaissance Squadron 1 (VMCJ-1) for photo reconnaissance and electronic warfare operations at MCAS at Cherry Point, North Carolina. During their four months there, he and Pitre worked on two types of aircraft: the McDonnell Douglas RF-4B Phantom II and the Grumman Intruder. One of the planes was equipped to collect photographic intelligence; the other retrieved electronic intelligence and also jammed and garbled enemy radar. The young Marines worked principally on the jammers. Their training was given only to students with superior IQs and carried with it a lot of responsibility.
Roland Pitre had keen native intelligence, although he had minimal formal schooling. He also had his rowdy and mischievous side. “Pete told me that he was working as a narc for the military police,” his buddy says. “He would go out and smoke dope with his ‘friends,’ and then he would turn them in. He told me once he borrowed a car from one of his doper buddies and drove it to the MP station, revealing a substantial stash of marijuana. He then told the dopers that the MPs and a drug dog had busted him at the main gate.”
Pitre never appeared to have any pangs of conscience about narcing on his friends, and he certainly never felt guilty about betraying the women in his life. He was 19 or 20 and romance was a game of conquest to him; he wasn’t looking for any serious relationship.
When they graduated from ALQ-76, the Cherry Point school, Roland and his closest friends became lance corporals, and they celebrated at a bar in Morehead City. They were next transferred to Headquarters and Maintenance Squadron 14 in El Toro, California.
Seven of the highly trained Marines from Marine Corps Avionic School (MCAS) were soon notified that they had less than twenty-four hours to pack up and head overseas; they were ordered to travel in civilian clothing and board civilian airlines to Hiroshima, Japan. Once there, they changed into fatigue uniforms and flew in military aircraft to Cubi Point in the Philippines.
While the Marines were stationed in the Philippines, Pitre—who ignored the venereal disease warnings in the movies they were required to watch—contracted a painful dose of gonorrhea. Because he’d bragged so much about his success with women, his buddies were merciless as they tormented him. “We’d follow him to the latrine when he’d go to relieve himself, and we’d wait outside so we could listen to him whimpering in pain. Naturally, we’d either imitate him or just laugh our butts off.”
Eventually the penicillin shots he received kicked in, and Pitre recovered. He’d pulled so many practical jokes on the other guys in his unit that nobody really felt sorry for him.
After that, Pitre slowed down on his dating by the numbers and
But Roland Pitre didn’t marry his gorgeous girlfriend Deb, and he wasn’t faithful to her, either. He almost always had several women on the string at once. One of them may have been Cheryl, whom he eventually did marry. “We all traveled to Pennsylvania once,” a buddy recalls. “Pete had a girlfriend there, too, who was a student nurse. I’m not sure what her name was. Her family lived on a farm just outside Union City.”
They had another pleasant visit in that small town close to Lake Erie. Roland Pitre never seemed to mind that his buddies knew that he cheated on his women. Indeed, he seemed proud of it and counted on them not to say the wrong thing.
They also knew that Pete lied, but they suspected he did it to be funny, and he didn’t hurt any of them; his fibs and outright lies were often hilarious. Early on, his closest Marine friend had his doubts about Pitre’s truthfulness. They were assigned to the same training schools, beginning with seven months of avionics classes at a base just outside Memphis, Tennessee. Then they were transferred to the Marine Composite Reconnaissance Squadron 1 (VMCJ-1) for photo reconnaissance and electronic warfare operations at MCAS at Cherry Point, North Carolina. During their four months there, he and Pitre worked on two types of aircraft: the McDonnell Douglas RF-4B Phantom II and the Grumman Intruder. One of the planes was equipped to collect photographic intelligence; the other retrieved electronic intelligence and also jammed and garbled enemy radar. The young Marines worked principally on the jammers. Their training was given only to students with superior IQs and carried with it a lot of responsibility.
Roland Pitre had keen native intelligence, although he had minimal formal schooling. He also had his rowdy and mischievous side. “Pete told me that he was working as a narc for the military police,” his buddy says. “He would go out and smoke dope with his ‘friends,’ and then he would turn them in. He told me once he borrowed a car from one of his doper buddies and drove it to the MP station, revealing a substantial stash of marijuana. He then told the dopers that the MPs and a drug dog had busted him at the main gate.”
Pitre never appeared to have any pangs of conscience about narcing on his friends, and he certainly never felt guilty about betraying the women in his life. He was 19 or 20 and romance was a game of conquest to him; he wasn’t looking for any serious relationship.
When they graduated from ALQ-76, the Cherry Point school, Roland and his closest friends became lance corporals, and they celebrated at a bar in Morehead City. They were next transferred to Headquarters and Maintenance Squadron 14 in El Toro, California.
Seven of the highly trained Marines from Marine Corps Avionic School (MCAS) were soon notified that they had less than twenty-four hours to pack up and head overseas; they were ordered to travel in civilian clothing and board civilian airlines to Hiroshima, Japan. Once there, they changed into fatigue uniforms and flew in military aircraft to Cubi Point in the Philippines.
While the Marines were stationed in the Philippines, Pitre—who ignored the venereal disease warnings in the movies they were required to watch—contracted a painful dose of gonorrhea. Because he’d bragged so much about his success with women, his buddies were merciless as they tormented him. “We’d follow him to the latrine when he’d go to relieve himself, and we’d wait outside so we could listen to him whimpering in pain. Naturally, we’d either imitate him or just laugh our butts off.”
Eventually the penicillin shots he received kicked in, and Pitre recovered. He’d pulled so many practical jokes on the other guys in his unit that nobody really felt sorry for him.
After that, Pitre slowed down on his dating by the numbers and
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