My military orders sent us to Pensacola, Florida, for a year of basic flight training in propeller-driven airplanes and then on to Beeville, Texas, for six months of training to fly jet aircraft. I was trained in formation, instrument, night, and cross-country flying, and in aircraft carrier landings. I was also exposed to aerial gunnery known as "dog-fighting", as well as air-to-ground weapons delivery. I chose the latter and was assigned to Marine Attack Squadron VMA-224 at Cherry Point, North Carolina, in January, 1961, along with about 16 other brand new Second Lieutenant "hot-shots" fresh out of flight school. We flew the A-4D Skyhawk airplane, and our job was to become combat-qualified in delivering bombs, rockets, bullets, napalm, and guided missiles in Close Air Support for our Marine ground troops. In late 1961, I learned our squadron would rotate to Japan for a year, and it would be necessary to take prisoner-of-war, escape and evasion, and mountain survival training during the winter at 9,000 feet in the California mountains. On February 20, 1962, while surviving in six feet of snow and hiding in a hastily-built snow cave, a "friendly" came along and said, "John Glenn is up". Several hours later, he came along again and said, "John Glenn is back". That was interesting, but I was fully engaged in surviving and returning to camp without being caught!
In late 1963, after deployments to bases in Puerto Rico and Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, the squadron was relocated to Iwakuni, Japan, for a year from which we also made further deployments to the Philippines, Okinawa, and South Korea. One challenging and memorable opportunity during this deployment to the Far East included participation as one of six pilots representing the Seventh Fleet in the "Flying Brothers" competition for two weeks in the Philippines with flight teams from several Far East nations. This was well before the Vietnam War, but already the "forward-looking" theme was about aerial tactics for war-fighting in counter-insurgency operations. Another memorable event was a very low-level ejection from an A-4D Skyhawk due to engine failure on a cold night over Japanese inland waters. My parachute opened just a few seconds before I hit the water. I reckoned 'God just wasn't ready for me yet'! I was rescued by helicopter. Gratia, spending this tour of duty "back home" in Michigan, first heard, "Jack Lousma's airplane 'exploded' in Japan", over the morning radio news during breakfast. She had no further word of that outcome for about 16 hours until my Western Union telegram was read to her over the telephone; "Ejected last night; parachute worked as advertised". Overseas telephone calls were virtually unavailable in those days before satellites, and telegrams "paid by the word" were expensive for those of us living on military pay.
At the end of an overseas tour, it was typical for a squadron to be disbanded, and all personnel would receive orders to new assignments. I was eligible for the US Naval Postgraduate School (USNPS), so I applied and was assigned for two years beginning in the 1963 fall semester. I retrieved Gratia from Michigan, and we moved to Monterey, California to enter the Aeronautical Engineering curriculum for an advanced degree. Having already received a BS degree in Aero at the University of Michigan, I was able to begin USNPS at an advanced level for two years of graduate studies after which I earned an "Engineer's Degree", that is, a level between a Master's Degree and PhD. For this degree, however, I was required to produce a thesis consistent with the degree requirements. I chose to produce an "experimental thesis" in the field of hybrid rockets, that is, a rocket with propellants made of a solid fuel combined with a gaseous oxidizer.
At the time (1965), hybrid rockets were still in the very "theoretical stage". Unlike solid rockets, in which the fuel and oxidizer are mixed homogeneously well before use, the hybrid's fuel and oxidizer can be stored separately and more safely until immediately prior to launch. Moreover, the hybrid rocket's thrust can be throttled over a wide range during boost, whereas the solid rocket thrust was either full-on or full-off. Pursuing my thesis conflicted with the USNPS propulsion curriculum focused on jet and propeller engines; nothing in rocketry. Recognizing America's rapid progress in rocketry since the late 1950's, both military and civilian, USPNS approved my experimental test project for a thesis. So, I set up a hybrid rocket test apparatus in a laboratory stall at the joint-use Monterey Airport and conducted 50-60 test firings to measure the burning-rates of Polystyrene fuel cylinders, bored lengthwise, with a variety of gaseous Oxygen flow rates and combustion chamber pressures. All parameters were recorded by ink pens on chart recorders. Data was analyzed, interpreted, and published in a 60-page classified report and forwarded to USNPS for acceptance. The experimental burn-rate results were also sent to theoreticians at United Technology Center (UTC) in Sunnyvale, California, for comparison with their theoretical burn-rate calculations. I had been assigned to work at UTC for ten weeks during the summer "vacation" of 1964 because military students were required to continue working while USNPS was not in session. My UTC work was related to the very early hybrid rocket development underway at its Sunnyvale facility. Improvements in liquid and solid rockets over the years have minimized use of hybrid rockets, but they are still used periodically for special applications.
It was also 1963 in Monterey when, hybrid rockets notwithstanding, that we launched our family growth program when Timothy was born. Tim would be followed, over a 17-year period, by Matthew, Mary, and Joseph. Their marriages have enlarged our family to 16 grandchildren and two great grandchildren as of this writing in 2017. We are scattered but remain in close touch with regular telephone calls and family visits. God has been good to our family, and we are thankful. He has also guided our career in directions we could never have imagined or planned ourselves. Leaving USNPS, I wanted to return to squadron flying rather than "flying a desk" in a billet staffed by an engineer. Moreover, I was looking for a change to a different type of flying, as in a reconnaissance squadron. In 1965, I was assigned to VMCJ-2 at Cherry Point, North Carolina, flying two types of reconnaissance jet airplanes; the RF-8A Crusader, a supersonic fighter with various types of cameras, and the EF-10B Skynight, an ancient former night-fighter converted into an Electronic Counter Measures (ECM) airplane for detecting signals from enemy fire-control installations, jamming tracking radars, and for leading strike aircraft to avoid detection enroute to targets. We operated primarily in the Caribbean region and around Cuba. I particularly enjoyed this type of flying because it involved single-airplane "Lone Ranger" missions wherein data acquisition techniques were left to the ingenuity and creativity of the pilot. Meanwhile, I was getting 'restless' again and was searching for whatever might be next. In fact, I applied for test-pilot school and for a new US Air Force space initiative, the Manned Orbital Laboratory (MOL) program, both of which invited non-Air Force military applicants. By this time, I was also more aware of NASA's progress in spaceflight, then flying Gemini missions and preparing to land on the Moon. Again, this interested me, but I thought astronaut selection was on a "don't call us, we'll call you" basis.
One Friday evening, however, after returning from a recon mission, the sentry handed me the weekly base newsletter as I left the air station. On the front page was an article about NASA's intent to select more astronauts and stating 'any Marine pilot meeting the posted qualifications was invited to send an application to the Commandant of the Marine Corps (CMC) for evaluation'. That corrected my "don't call us, we'll call you" understanding, but my immediate interest was tempered by the realization that, with about 10,000 applicants from across America, my chances were slim. Alternatively, however, I would be forever disgusted with myself if I didn't try when I had the chance. One credo by which I lived was, "If you don't swing, you won't hit!" Another credo involved our constant prayer that God would direct our lives according to His plan. I have never made a career decision based on wealth, fame, or power, but rather for a position I would enjoy, for which I was qualified, and that had some over-arching value to causes that were important; of which there are many. Gratia, by now well-acquainted with uncertainty and risk during our first ten eventful years of marriage, was a willing player in pursuing this new adventure. So, I sent my application to CMC, and after dispelling the "myth" that I was too tall, I was selected with five other Marine pilots for further evaluation by NASA along with pilots from other military services and the civilian community. This larger group was winnowed down over several months of physical and psychological testing, written exams, interviews, and meetings with NASA officials and astronauts.