I got my Novice in March 1973 and took my General about six months later.  A year later, in 1974, I passed my Advanced.  Looking forward to taking my Extra, I realized I'd need CW practice, so I spent a lot of time in CW QSOs, but they weren't very challenging, you know, NAME, RST, QTH, WX, RIG, ANT, etc., that gets pretty easy to copy after a few hundred QSOs.  That's when I discovered the Virginia Slow Net and the Virginia Net.

So in late 1974, I started checking into the VSN almost daily, to get used to the idea of copying something structured, but not predictable as were QSOs.  From the moment you hear "NR" and until you hear "AR", you haven't any idea what's going to come next.   Sure, after having handled thousands of radiograms, I can't say that they are TOTALLY unpredictable, but still, for the most part, they are.  And some of them are downright enjoyable, such as the messages from the Miss America Pageant attendees and finalists to their boyfriends, girlfriends and families.  And, of course, with the good also comes the bad, but it all evens out in the long run.

From the VSN, I moved to the VN, desiring the challenge of not only unpredictable copy, but also of increased speed.  I had tried practicing with 5 letter groups using a TTY to CW decoder we had at CinCLantFlt HQ, but it just wasn't challenging enough without the QRN, QRM, QSB and also because it was difficult to check your copy against the original.  I preferred plain-text, so that's why the section nets were so important.

By April of 1975, I had decided I was ready for the Extra Class exam.  In Norfolk, we had an FCC Field Office which administered weekly exams, so it was convenient, except that I had to take the morning off from work to take the exam.  I was in the Navy at that time, an Electronics Technician who had been elmered by a Navy Radioman, Buzz, WA3SKT/4, who preferred TTY repair in the ET/RM shop, to Operations watchstanding.

I took a morning off from work and assembled in a room with other license applicants, all waiting to take their Morse exam.   As I later found out, they tested the Extra Class license applicants first at 20 wpm, then rewound the same paper tape and ran it at 13 wpm for the General Class license applicants.  The examiner was a female, and she placed the punch-tape on the machine, adjusted a few knobs, asked me if the volume was okay and, when I nodded agreement, set the tape to running its course.  "VVV VVV VVV" it began, and then I copied like I'd never copied before - NERVOUSLY!   I'd put such a nice string of letters together and then, BLAM!, I missed one.  The rule was ONE MINUTE SOLID COPY.   That meant that I'd have to start all over again beginning with the next letter, but I was so darn mad at myself for missing the one letter that I missed several before I got back into sync.  Again, BLAM!, I missed another.  Start again stupid, I told myself.  This happened several more times, but the straw that broke the camel's back was a phrase that started out, "SHIPS AT SEA IN DISTRESS" and ended up I-don't-know-where.  I became so distracted and so upset by blowing everything afterwards that I just wanted to throw the pencil into the wastebasket with my copy, but I somehow kept the pencil moving, although I knew it was more for show, a saving-of-face, than for anything else.

I knew before she returned with the dismal news that I hadn't passed, and all eyes were upon me as I sullenly left the room with my eyes fixed on the floor in front of me.  She apologized, which was nice, but it did nothing for the enormous pain I felt inside - my chest swelled from the embarrassment I felt.  The "no tickee, no washee" rule applied in 1975.  If you didn't pass the CW exam, you were not allowed to take the written exam.  And you had to wait 30 days before you could retake the exam and throw another $8.50 down the drain.

After flunking the code, I promised myself that I would be better prepared in 30 days, so I made sure that I checked into every Virginia Net I could, just to have a good chance to practice.  By May, 1975, I felt ready to tackle it again, so I took another Thursday morning off from work and headed to the FCC.  Once again, I was the only Extra Class license applicant, but I was a little more confident than in April, so I managed a meek smile, but not a grin.  After all, these other folks were looking up to me to see what it might be like for them.  I couldn't let on that I was scared like they were.  The code started, "VVV VVV VVV" and I didn't feel quite as challenged as before and my pencil danced on the paper, occasionnally missing a letter, but I just pretended I was taking formal radiogram traffic and that I would ask for fills at the end of the text rather than try to break in.

The same young lady took my exam and returned a few minutes later and asked me to sit in a chair upon which was mounted a -- straight key!!!  Ohmigosh, I thought, I've been running traffic with a paddle for more than six months, how am I going to use a STRAIGHT KEY -- and at 20 wpm?  She handed me a sheet of text and told me I could begin whenever I wanted.  She read her own copy as I nervously tapped as neatly and as quickly as I could and then she said I could stop and then gave me a smile.  Oh boy - oh boy - oh boy - I passed!!!  The look I received from the General Class license applicants was one of admiration and awe.  My chest swelled, but there was no pain this time!  She asked me to wait outside while she gave the 13 wpm exam and then afterwards invited me back in to take the written exam.  I started looking over the questions and began feeling queasy, like seasickness, because, while I spent the past 30 days practicing my CW, I didn't put any time into the Extra Class study guide and had forgotten twice as much as I had learned.  You can imagine how I felt when she returned without a smile and apoligized, for the second time in 30 days.

The month of May and part of June were spent checking into EVERY session of the Virginia Nets and spending the rest of my time reading the Extra Class study guide, backwards and forwards.  I was not going to blow my last chance to take this exam, since at the end of June I had to depart for my next duty station, the island of Adak, in the Aleutians, and I would not have another chance to take the exam for another year if I did not pass this time.  Needless to say, I sauntered into the testing room and plunked down into a chair with a cheshire-cat grin on my face.  The General Class license applicants looked at me with suspicion.  Why, they must have wondered, is this fellow so darned confident and lacking any symptom of nervousness?  The same young lady entered the room and we began as we did the previous two months, and when the tape started, it was like copying a 5-minute radiogram without QSK.  My pencil just moved across the paper like the marker on a Ouija board, almost as if by magic and the other folks just watched with wonder and amazement as I effortlessly copied nearly every single letter without error.  When the tape was about two-thirds finished, a familiar phrase, "SHIPS AT SEA IN DISTRESS" etched itself onto my paper and I laughed out loud, which must have frightened the others half to death.  I finally figured out what the rest of the sentence was and was not astonished when the young lady asked me to tap out some CW on the straight key.  I had also practiced with my straight key in the previous 30 days.

What's more, I took four more tests that day.  For years, I had wanted to have my FCC First Class Radiotelephone Operator's License, which meant I had to take Third Class and Second Class and so on, so I did, passing each one after the other.  Then, to put icing on the cake, I decided to also take my FCC Third Class Radiotelegraph Operator's License exam which meant that I had to take another CW exam, not that it was a challenge anymore.  I could not take my FCC Second nor First Class Radiotelegraph License exams, because those licenses require practical service in the previous grade before being allowed to take the next higher exam.  I had no plans to ever serve in the capacity of a Third Class Radiotelegraph Operator, so I knew that license was a dead-end, but I wanted to prove something to myself that I failed to do in April.  By the time I walked out of the FCC building at 2 p.m., I had been inside for seven hours, and I was exhausted and thrilled to have done so much.

Talk about having to do it the hard way, and earning the right to say I am an Extra Class licensee, I think I can -- HI HI.