THE CHOICE

• Document Type: CREST
• Collection: General CIA Records
• Document Number (FOIA) /ESDN (CREST): CIA-RDP90-00965R000301920003-7
• Release Decision: RIPPUB
• Original Classification: K
• Document Page Count: 3
• Document Creation Date: December 22, 2016
• Document Release Date: September 27, 2012
• Sequence Number: 3
• Publication Date: May 5, 1985
• Content Type: OPEN SOURCE

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\ Declassified in Part - Sanitized Copy Approved for Release 2012/09/27: CIA-RDP90-00965R000301920003-7
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NEW YORK TIMES MAGAZINE
5 May, 1985
THE
CI TOICI:
By Esther B. Fein
CAROL A. BARKALOW KEEPS
the five frayed diaries on the
floor by her bed, half expecting
that she might turn over one
night and scribble in some new
thoughts. It was nine years ago
when she cracked the binding
on the first small red book and
wrote, in the meticulous hand-
writing of someone starting
something new and remarkable, "July 7, 1976 ?
What a Day!"
It was a historic day, a day when Carol Barkalow
became one of the first 119 young women to enter the
United States Military Academy at West Point, a
school that had thrived as the all-male preserve of the
Army career officer for 174 years. And now, after
four years at the Academy and five years in the mili-
tary, Captain Barkalow still skims the diaries and as-
sesses her growth from an awkward young cadet who
broke the zipper in her pants on her first day at West
Point to a polished officer and woman.
Linda T. Garcia, in the same year Carol Barkalow
entered West Point, became a member of the first
class of women at the United States Air Force Acad-
emy in Colorado Springs. Occupying a proud place on
her living-room wall is a framed collage of photo-
graphs: Linda in the cockpit of a T-41; Linda as a
freshman in her starched "doolie" uniform; Linda
with her saber in its sheath and her hand raised,
being sworn in as an officer by her father, a retired
Air Force major.
"I'm often asked would I do it again," says Cap-
tain Garcia. "Yes. Without hesitation."
Scattered about the den in Elizabeth Belzer
Semcken's house are scrapbooks and mementos
from her days as a member of the class of 1980 at
the Naval Academy at Annapolis. There are also
models of fighter planes that her husband, John, a
Navy pilot, has flown. But the room is cluttered
mostly with pictures of their bright-faced daugh-
ter, Rebecca, whom Liz reluctantly leaves with a
baby sitter when she goes to work for the Navy
each morning.
"To the world, being in the first class was prob-
ably the most significant thing I've done," says
Lieutenant Semcken. "But in my own life, there's
no question ? it's Rebecca."
Nine years ago these three officers were among
357 women who, by lugging their duffel bags and
books onto the campuses of the United States serv-
ice academies, made history. And now these
women are poised once again at a juncture where
women have never stood. This month they will
complete the five years of military service they
committed to when they entered the academies,
and they must decide either to stay in the military
or leave it, to continue their careers as officers or
begin them anew as businesswomen. What they do
will shed light on questions many consider crucial
for the United States armed services: Can women
succeed in today's military? Do women really want
careers as officers in the military, and does the
military really want women officers?
"Where they go and what they do will in many
ways measure the military's success at integrating
and promoting women," says Lieut. Gen. Robert
E. Kelley, vice commander of Tactical Air Com-
mand at Langley Air Force Base in Virginia, and a
former superintendent of the Air Force Academy.
"We are working very hard to eliminate institu-
tional biases in the military, and certainly admit-
ting womfm to the academies is a measure of that.
But we have to look at whether these women decide
to stay or leave and ask ourselves, 'Are we doing
enough to create an environment in which women
feel they can reach their potential?'"
Carol Barkalow, Linda Garcia and Elizabeth
Belzer Semcken are representative of the dozens of
women from the class of 1980 who were interviewed
for this article. Each of the three has strong emo-
tional ties to military service and her academy ex-
perience, but each is questioning what place the
military will have in her future. One says she will
leave, one plans to stay, one is still painfully un-
sure. The decisions the three ultimately make will
not only reveal the mood of the class as a whole, but
will say much about whether the military has been
successful in incorporating women into its ranks.
The prevailing opinion that military leaders ex-
press publicly, however, is that the combat-exclu-
sion rule will not hinder the promotion of women,
that women commanding noncombatant units,
heading multimillion-dollar procurement offices
and leading intelligence forces will forge through
the ranks and garner their stars. Most of the gen-
erals and Defense Department officials that were
interviewed hedged on the subject of whether the
combat-exclusion rule might be repealed by noting
that the rule was a Congressional mandate reflect-
ing the will of the public; they added that no other
country allowed women to serve in combat in its
regular armed services.
Centinued
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* * * *
LINDA GARCIA HAS
always known we
isolation of military
life. She shuttled as a child
from Air Force base to Air
Force base, as her father,
Juan, pursued his career as a
pilot, and her mother, Sally,
struggled to keep making
new homes for her five chil-
dren. She fondly tells how
close her family became,
drawing on each other's
strength and friendship to
feel comfonable in strange
places. But now that she is
faced with the possiblity of
repeating that pattern in her
adult life, Linda Garcia also
remembers the childhood
feelings of having "had no
roots."
When she was a student at
the Air Force Academy, she
wrote a song about how lonely
life could get with her father
away so often, and how her
mother had to care for the
children alone.
Well Dad was gone when
we were small
but we didn't understand.
Mom took his place and
carried on
the job she did was grand.
Those lonely years she
struggled on
and never once com-
plained.
She did it all with love and
joy
and never showed the
pain.
"One of the problems in
military life is that immedi-
ate family kinship is very
strong, but the family net-
work is not there,' says Cap-
tain Garcia, recounting that
she was born in Louisana-and
raised in Texas, Puerto Rico,
Florida and Massachusetts.
"In the past couple of years,
it hit me hard that I don't
have any roots, and I wonder
what kind of impact that
would have on the family I
hope to have someday."
Capta:n Garcia, a Latin
America analyst with the
Tactical Air Command at
Langley Air Force Base,
thrives on her family. Her
conversations are peppered
with comments about her
youngest sister, Mara, a
freshman at the Air Force
Academy and "a super, super
woman," her two brothers,
Juan Jr. and Luis ("They are
so good looking"), and her
older sister, Amanda, an Air
Force captain and "my best
friend." And, always, there is
mention of her parents, who
finally settled down after her
father retired as a major
from the Air Force and
moved the family to Colorado
Springs.
It was her father, says Cap-
tain Garcia, who, when she
was considering submitting
her resignation five months
ago, encouraged her to give
the Air Force another year.
Over a long-distance phone
conversation from her apart-
ment in Arlington, Va., where
she was working as an ana-
lyst for the Defense Intelli-
gence Agency, she and her f a-
ther discussed her qualms
about military life and the of-
fers she was starting to re-
ceive from private corpora-
tions
"He helped me to realize
that, in all honesty, I couldn't
resign my commission and
say I didn't like the Air Force
because I had never actually
been stationed on a base,"
says Captain Garcia, who
was assigned to Washington
after her graduation and
served in various intelligence
positions there before moving
to Langley last December.
By accepting the transfer
within a year of completing
her five-year commitment,
she incurred additional time,
because officers are required
to remain in a post for at least
a year. Other women from
the class of 1980 have also de-
ferred their decisions by ac-
cepting recent transfers or by
extending their commitment
to the military in exchange
for time at graduate school.
"Each option has its
fears,'' says Captain Garcia,
now 26 years old. "When I
think of private industry, I
wonder, 'Will I make it? Will
I be bored?' If I remain,
there's the uncertainty about
my next assignment. I really
enjoy what I'm doing now,
but what about the next job?
Ultimately, it comes down to,
'What do I want to be when I
grow up?' But along the way,
I'm also feeling a lot of pres-
sure from people who've fol-
lowed my career, people who
say, 'Linda, you can be a gen-
eral.'"
There are currently three
female generals in the Air
Force, compared with 340
men; four female generals in
the Army, compared with 408
men, and two female commo-
dores, the equivalent of a one-
star general, in the Navy,
cc :npared with 129 men.
(There are 122 male admirals
and no women of that rank.)
Still, some people who have
tracked Linda Garcia believe
she can attain the rank of
general. Many are members
of the Hispanic community,
proud of her accomplish-
ments as the daughter of a
Mexican-American and a
Puerto Rican-American. Her
achievements inspired the
Mexican American Oppor-
tunity Foundation to name
' her Woman of the Year in
1980. The following year, she
was named Woman of the
Year by the National Confer-
ence of Puerto Rican Women.
One of her assignments at
the Department of Defense
was a six-month project for
the Secretary of Defense
coordinating the creation of a
commemorative stamp
honoring Hispanics who had
served in America's armed
forces. As part of that job, she
brought together the 10 sur-
viving Hispanic Americans
who have been awarded the
Medal of Honor, wrote
speeches for senior defense
officials, maintained a liaison
with the White House and
coordinated receptions and
luncheons, including one at
the White House last October,
when President Reagan un-
veiled the stamp. "The Acad-
emy gave me the self-confi?
dence and the polish to handle
that," says Captain Garcia.
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She notes that the national-
level jobs she has held are
"highly unusual" for a junior
officer. Another of her tasks
at the Pentagon was analyz-
ing Argentina's military
capabilities during the Falk-
lands crisis. "I've seen the
big picture," she says. "High-
level decisions were based on
what I had done. I briefed the
Secretary of Defense, the
Joint Chiefs of Staff ? as a
second lieutenant ? talking
ad hoc about missile fighters.
To this day it blows my
mind." She admits, however,
that starting in such visible
and prestigious jobs has a dis-
advantage. It creates a feel-
ing of "nowhere to go but
down."
"She's unusually composed
for a junior officer," says
Gen. Robert E. Kelley of the
Langley Air Force Base, who
requested that Captain Gar-
cia be transferred to Langley
after she introduced herself
to him at a convention in
Washington. "She walked
right up to me and made a
pitch for a job," he recalls.
"She's got that get up and go.
That says a lot about her."
That quality ? that "enthu-
siasm, moicie and chutzpah,"
as General Kelley calls it ?
has not escaped the civilian
companies and business pee-
pie that Captain Garcia has
come across as an officer.
Captain Garcia is very reluc-
tant to discuss specifically
the companies that have con-
tacted her or what kind of of-
fers they have made, fearing
that to be so candid would
"burn the bridges" if she de-
cides to remain in the Air
Force.
"I am looking around; I
will be passing out my
resume soon," she says. She
does say that most of the com-
panies that have demon-
strated an interest "are high-
technology, some with Gov-
ernment contracts," and
mentions that one such com-
pany in Colorado Springs
called and said, "You want
engineering? You got it. You
want accounting? You got it?
Management? It's yours."
"The problem is," she says,
readily admitting that she en-
joys the attention, both corpo-
rate and military, "I don't
know what I want to do and
that's scary."
For the time being, Linda
Garcia is mulling over the of-
fers she receives, and by
summer, she expects to "sit
down and physically make a
list" of the pros and cons of
staying and leaving. "If I
stay in, I sure do think ahead
to being a general," she says,
speaking with the self-as-
suredness that landed her the
job at Langley. "Isclon't want
to sound conceited, but I have
a good start and there's no
reason I couldn't. But the op-
portunities are just, well,
frightening. When we were in
the Academy, they told us
being a cadet would open
doors. We said 'Sure.' You
know what? They were
right."
Esther B. Fein is a reporter for The Times.
,
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