FORT BELVOIR, Va.--Fifty-four years of service to the Army and nation, 36 of them in uniform, came to a close Sept. 30 for Rosauro Lindogan, the office administrator for Regional Health Command-Atlantic Command Judge Advocate. Reflecting on his career, he never thought a significant part of it would be spent in a military uniform--and for good reason.
As a nineteen-year-old, Lindogan was 5-feet-4 inches tall and weighed 112 pounds. His chances of joining the military--any military--were slim. But it was a chance he was willing to take.
"The Philippine Army didn't want me because I was too skinny, too short," he said.
Determined to serve, Lindogan went to the recruiting office at Naval Station Sangley Point, a former U.S. communication and hospital facility near Manila Bay.
"I was interviewed. After the interview they told me I had to report for the U.S. Armed Forces exam. Two weeks later, I was told I passed the exam and I had to report to Navy boot camp in Orlando (Florida)," he said.
The chance to enlist in the U.S. Navy afforded Lindogan and thousands of the brightest young men in the Philippines the opportunity to escape poverty was the result of a unique program formalized in 1947, when the United States and the Philippines signed a military basing agreement. Filipinos were the only foreign nationals allowed to enlist in the U.S. armed forces without first immigrating to the U.S. The Navy was the only military branch they could join.
A week before he was to begin Navy boot camp, his petition was approved to come to Hawaii to live with his older brother, who already had immigrated to the U.S. A quick phone conversation with his brother convinced him he could enlist in the Navy in Hawaii.
"I went to Hawaii and processed with immigration. They said 'Oh, you are a good candidate for the draft.' I had no idea what the gentleman was talking about. I asked what the draft was. I thought it was for sports. He said, 'no not for sports you are too skinny and too short.'"
Lindogan found out that the draft was for military service. The draft also meant that he would most likely have to wear a U.S. Army uniform.
"I was told that I had a choice--sign the form stating that I am willing to get drafted when the time came or I would be deported back to the Philippines," said Lindogan.
"I was scared. I signed the form."
Six months later, a draft notification arrived. It was 1962 and the escalation of the American military presence in Vietnam was soon to follow. For Lindogan, Army basic and combat training awaited at Schofield Barracks, Hawaii.
"I told them I wanted to be a clerk. They told me the Army needed infantrymen. So here I am with a bunch of draftees of Hawaiian and Samoan background--big dudes. I was the smallest recruit. I never thought I would pass training."
By then end of training being "too skinny and too short" and smart helped him land a job as a legal clerk.
"When Lindy [Lindogan]was a young legal clerk in Saigon, Vietnam, he was asked to drive three JAG [Judge Advocate Corps] officers to the barracks," said Richard. H. Black, one of Lindagon's former commanders. "He drove them there and was sitting in the jeep waiting when they decided to invite him into the barracks to have a beer with them. As soon as Lindy got to the door of the barracks, the jeep exploded. A bomb was planted in the vehicle. I guess you could say his life was saved by circumstance," Black added. "That story was legendary in the JAG Corps."
Growing up in Bacolod City, Philippines, the youngest of 13 children, Lindogan said he always dreamed of a better life. In the Philippines, making his way meant earning three pesos--less than a U.S. dollar--a day shining shoes. "That was not something I wanted to do the rest of my life," he said. "I was poor.
"I promised my father and my mother when I came to the U.S. that I would work hard. I said, 'dad I will promise that I will try to be successful in the U.S.'
"My service allowed me to show that I am trying to be faithful and love my country, my new adopted country. I would be faithful and serve as much as I could do and to help people who needed help. That's my mentality," said Lindogan.
"He [Lindy] is the only person that I have met in my life that I can recall the exact spot when I met him," said Black, a retired Army colonel and current Virginia State Senator who was the guest speaker during Lindogan' s retirement ceremony.
In 1987, Black recalls his desire to add a warrant officer to his legal office at the 7th Infantry Division at Fort Ord, California.
"The word got out that I was a tough taskmaster, demanding," he said. "Lindy said he would take the job and when we first talked, he listened and had recommendations for everything I wanted to accomplish. I knew he was the warrant officer I not only wanted but needed," said Black.
"I remember the time I had all the division chiefs in my office reviewing a map of Panama," said Black. "I wondered aloud what the distance was from one end of the other. Lindy did not hesitate and said '52 miles, Sir.' Everyone turned around and looked at him and I had to ask, how do you know that?
"Lindy told us in that heavy Filipino accent of his, 'Because I ran it during my ultramarathon. It is 52 miles.'"
According to Black, Lindogan could make things happen for the better when no one else could. "The JAG office at Fort Ord inherited a very old building that looked bad on the inside. Lindy turned that place around and on the inside it looked like a big corporate law firm. He understood quality and professionalism and did not settle for less than the best from himself and his Soldiers. He could make things happen for the better when no one else could."
Professionalism allowed Lindogan to rise through the enlisted and warrant officer ranks. And thanks, in part, to a "glowing OER" (Officer Evaluation Report) from Black, who describes himself as a very, very tough rater, Lindogan became the first chief warrant officer 5 in the Army JAG Corps--the highest warrant officer rank in the Army in 1995.
"Lindy was an exceptional Soldier," added Black. "Actually he is one of the truly great warrant officers. And if the Army ever builds a statute dedicated to warrant officer--they should make it a statue of Chief Lindogan."
After 36 years in uniform, Lindogan made the transition to federal civilian service in 1998, working for the Department of Justice, Walter Reed Army Medical Center and, most recently, Regional Health Command- Atlantic (RHC-A).
At RHC-A, Lindogan was the office administrator responsible for ensuring the medical command's team of attorneys, paralegals and support staff have what they need. "He played a key role in helping get everything set up for us during our transition from Walter Reed to Fort Belvoir," explained Enrique Mendez, Deputy Command Judge Advocate, RHCA. This isn't the first time the two have worked together.
"Our paths crossed initially in Panama when I was a captain," said Mendez, a retired JAG lieutenant colonel. "He was great at mentoring and providing assistance and advice to help legal officers. A good warrant will help to keep young captains in line. He did that."
"I always tried to make sure I did the right thing and that I improved the performance and comradery in the offices in which I worked," said Lindogan. "I am a people person and you get more support from others when you are helpful, professional. I kept that promise I made to my parents. I am very proud of what I was able to accomplish as both a Soldier and a civilian."
He is most proud of his family. "I have six children--all successful. That is a part of my legacy in the U.S. too. I thank God I came to the U.S. because without the U.S. I would not be where I am nor would my family."
Retirement will not find this 80-year-old slowing down. He already plans to become an entrepreneur in Virginia Beach, Virginia, starting an import-export company.
And he will continue to find time to run. "Running is my favorite hobby and I run about six miles three to four times a week. If you slow down, what is left?"
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