Home Front: Jeff Ryta - From Marine Rifleman to the Barber Chair

In the middle of an interview about Marine Corps boot camp, infantry training and assignments thousands of miles from Wisconsin, the door opened at Jeff’s Barber Shop in Marshfield and longtime customer Pete Behrens walked in for a haircut. Behrens moved back to Marshfield in 2003 and was already coming to the shop before Jeff Ryta started working there the following year. As Behrens settled into the chair, we joked that he did not exactly become one of Jeff’s customers — Pete came with the building. Ryta laughed, Behrens settled into the chair, and the interview continued in the place where Ryta has now spent more than two decades listening to other people’s stories.

This time, the story was his.

Ryta grew up in New Berlin, Wisconsin, on the outskirts of Milwaukee. He remembers a fairly typical childhood, including high school sports, and military service was already part of his family history. His father served in the National Guard, his Uncle Chet served in the Army during the Korean War, and his brother also served in the Army. After high school, Ryta admits he was not following any carefully designed career path.

“I was kind of a knucklehead,” he said. “I was bouncing around from job to job.”

Immediately before enlisting, he worked at a printing shop making signs for businesses such as Hardee’s and others. It was a job, but not one he saw becoming a career. College was not really on his mind either. Ryta began talking with an Army recruiter.

Somewhere along the way, the Army lost him to the Marines. Ryta jokingly refers to Marines as “Uncle Sam’s misguided children,” and when asked why he chose the Marine Corps, he offered another explanation.

“They’ve got the best-dressed uniforms.”

Ryta said he also wanted the opportunity to travel, test himself and see where military service might take him. His mother was not nearly as enthusiastic.

“My mother was dead set against me joining,” Ryta said.

He arranged for the recruiter to pick him up at what he called “zero dark thirty,” went to MEPS and started the enlistment process without telling her. When he came home, he tucked the paperwork underneath his shirt. After dinner, his mother told him he was an adult and could make his own decisions. If he wanted to join the military, she told him, he could.

“Well, Mom, I’m glad you feel that way,” Ryta remembered telling her, “because I leave for boot camp in two weeks. I signed up today.”

“And of course,” he said, “then the tears flowed.”

His brother gave him a little grief for choosing the Marines instead of the Army and asked whether he realized what he had just signed up for. Ryta would soon find out.

He entered the United States Marine Corps on Feb. 28, 1984, and was sent to Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego. Marines who graduate from San Diego are sometimes jokingly referred to as “Hollywood Marines.” Ryta is happy to accept the nickname, although he added one clarification.

“They do not issue us suntan lotion or sunglasses.”

His actual first impression of boot camp was considerably less glamorous.

“Total culture shock.”

Ryta had played sports in high school and was familiar with coaches raising their voices.

“I played high school sports and I was yelled at,” he said, “but I was never yelled at like that. It was a rude awakening.”

For Ryta, the hardest part was not any single physical challenge. It was looking at the entire 13-week experience ahead of him and continuing toward the finish.

“I think the hardest part of boot camp was just keeping your eye on the prize — 13 weeks and getting out of there,” Ryta said. “It wasn’t a lot of fun, but I’m glad it’s something I did. I feel that that was a huge accomplishment in my life.”

Asked whether he ever thought about quitting, Ryta did not try to make himself sound tougher in hindsight.

“I think people would be lying if they said they never had a thought of saying, ‘This isn’t for me. Why am I putting up with this?’”

He stayed.

When graduation day finally arrived, relief came first.

“I think when graduation day came, it was a big sigh of relief,” he said. “But then also I think pride took over that, hey, you made it. You know, it’s a big accomplishment.”

More than four decades later, Ryta can still quickly name people from those 13 weeks. He remembers Drill Instructors Sgt. Brooks and Sgt. Oudikirk, Senior Drill Instructor Staff Sgt. Gardner and fellow recruits including Todd Maas and Jeff Christie. Christie later created a Facebook page for members of their graduating unit, Platoon 3022, giving men who shared that experience another way to remain in contact. Ryta was also difficult for the drill instructors to overlook. At nearly 6-foot-5, he was one of the larger recruits.

“I think it made it a little bit harder because I stuck out,” he said.

Sgt. Brooks gave him a nickname.

Baby Huey.

Ryta remembers exactly when he felt he had earned the title United States Marine: the day Staff Sgt. Gardner dismissed Platoon 3022 at the end of boot camp.

There was also the ASVAB incident. Ryta describes himself as a middle-of-the-road student who never particularly liked taking tests. Before joining the service, he failed his first Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery test, retook it and passed.

Several days into Marine boot camp, the recruits were marched into a room and told to take the ASVAB again. A better score could potentially qualify someone for another military job. Ryta had already passed. He was already in the Marine Corps. He was tired and away from home for the first time. So he filled in circles.

The result was poor enough that by the end of the second phase of boot camp, Ryta found himself standing in front of a full-bird colonel who wanted to know how he could pass the test in Milwaukee and then perform so badly in San Diego. There was even concern that someone else might have taken the earlier test for him. Ryta decided not to explain his test-taking strategy.

“Sir, I was very tired,” he told the colonel.

The colonel accepted the explanation.

“Okay, son, I believe you.”

Drill Instructor Sgt. Bray then marched Ryta back to the squad bay. Ryta still remembers what was said on that walk, but that portion of the story will remain between Marines.

After boot camp came infantry training at Camp Pendleton, California. Ryta had enlisted on an open contract, meaning he had not entered with a guaranteed occupational specialty. He was willing to go wherever the Marine Corps decided it needed him. Asked whether he recommends that strategy to someone joining today, Ryta’s answer was immediate.

“No.”

The Marine Corps assigned him Military Occupational Specialty 0311 — rifleman. Ryta calls it becoming a “rough, tough, can’t-get-enough ground pounder.”

At Camp Pendleton, he trained in land navigation, day and night patrols, setting up ambushes and other infantry skills. He also trained with weapons including the M60 machine gun and LAW rockets.

Then came Hawaii.

Ryta was assigned to Marine Corps Air Station Kaneohe Bay on Oahu.

“That was tough duty,” he said.

His first impression was uncomplicated.

“It was awesome. Weather was great. Couldn’t complain.”

Kaneohe Bay remained Ryta’s primary duty station, but his Marine Corps years took him well beyond Hawaii. His unit rotated throughout the Pacific and Far East, with training and deployments that included Camp Fuji, Okinawa and the Philippine Islands. Much of his experience in the Philippines involved training in the jungle.

Around 1985, Ryta also spent several months on Diego Garcia, a remote island in the Indian Ocean. Asked what there was to do there, Ryta thought for a moment.

“Not much.”

Then came the version Marines apparently preferred.

“They say if you get sent to Diego Garcia, you either become an alcoholic or a PT freak.”

The Navy Seabees stationed there did provide the Marines with another option: jungle volleyball. Ryta does not remember all the rules anymore, but normal volleyball apparently was not the objective.

“It was insane,” he said, recalling players pulling down the net and climbing onto another player’s shoulders.

Hawaii offered more recreational opportunities. Ryta and several friends earned their scuba certifications and spent weekends diving. They could rent equipment through military recreation services and take advantage of being stationed in a place many people only dream of visiting.

He also tried windsurfing.

“I think I tried it twice,” Ryta said. “It didn’t go well.”

One memory that remains particularly clear came during training on Molokai. Ryta was the company Jeep driver, while his friend Wayne Spohn worked in company supply. The two were sent in an M151A Jeep to resupply Marines who were training in the field. A few mud holes became part of the trip.

Ryta still wants one detail on the record.

“Gunny Griffin, if you’re watching, Spohn did not drive the Jeep that day.”

Spohn and another Marine, Scott Lehr, became two of Ryta’s closest friends. Both were older than him, and Ryta said they were almost like older brothers during his time in the service. He remains in contact with them today.

Those friendships later played a role when Ryta had to decide whether to reenlist. Spohn, Lehr and several others were preparing to leave the Marines. Ryta found himself asking why he should remain without many of the people who had been closest to him.

By then, the Marine Corps had also given him much of the travel he had hoped for when he enlisted. He had seen Hawaii, Japan, Okinawa, the Philippines and Diego Garcia. Thailand became a liberty port at Christmas in 1986. Hong Kong was his first liberty port. It was not his favorite.

Ryta admits being a young Marine, new to liberty ports and not carrying much money may have affected his opinion. While traveling across the Pacific, home remained important. There were no cell phones, and communication generally meant letters or an expensive telephone call. Ryta had one routine he could count on.

“Every Sunday I did get to call home and talk to my mom,” he said. “That was our thing.”

What did he miss most?

“Mom’s home cooking.”

“The chow wasn’t bad,” he added, “but there’s nothing like Mom’s cooking.”

His mother died in 1985 while Ryta was still serving.

The Sunday calls stopped, but Ryta still had years remaining on his enlistment. When his Marine Corps service eventually ended, it would be his father — not his mother — waiting for him when he returned to Wisconsin.

Ryta ultimately reached the rank of Lance Corporal, E-3. His service ended Nov. 29, 1987. He completed his separation paperwork in Hawaii and received a plane ticket back to Milwaukee. His father met him there, and Ryta stayed with him for a time while deciding what came next.

Civilian life eventually took Ryta to Michigan. By the early 2000s, he was living in Lower Michigan and working hospital security.

Then Marshfield Clinic hired his wife.

The family relocated to Marshfield around 2004, although Ryta freely admits he no longer remembers the exact year. That move eventually led to an entirely different career.

To Be Continued…