Marriage, military, and Turkey - Eckart talks time as cryptographer

From Minnesota to Georgia, Colorado, and even Turkey until his eventual return, Norman Eckart served our country as a cryptographer for the United States military.

Eckart, 80, was drafted into the service in 1965 during the heart of the Vietnam War.

“Uncle Sam interrupted our wedding,” Sharon Eckart, Norman’s wife, remembered.

The loving couple, high school sweethearts, wanted to get married before Norman’s military career began. Next year on August 21 of 2025, the couple will be celebrating their sixtieth wedding anniversary.

“Norman was the first guy I ever dated–when I was 15,” Sharon said.

“After you eat lobster, who the heck wants to eat hamburger?” Norman asked pointedly. “She couldn’t date until she was 16, but her dad let her date me.”

“Then we just dated forever,” Sharon added.

Getting married, however, meant Norman didn’t begin service until March 1966. At the time, newlyweds were given a six-month deferment.

After a physical, Norman left for basic training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. A six-week crash course taught Norman discipline, respect, how to shoot, who and who not to salute, and much, much more.

“And a lot of PT [physical training],” Norman added.

After a couple months leave, Norman went to Fort Sill, Oklahoma for officer candidate training. He signed up for communications.

“I wanted to go to crypto school,” Norman explained. “Coding and decoding. I take everything communicated and put all of that into codes, so we can read and send messages.”

With the use of special machines, Norman says an entire message can be typed in and later decoded without enemy combatants knowing what is said.

“Cryptography is all memory work,” Norman explained. “All of it must be committed to memory or you won’t make it.”

Once Norman completed advanced training at Fort Sill, he moved onto signal school at Fort Gordon, Georgia.

With his training finished, “they asked me where I wanted to go,” Norman continued. “I put in for Fort Carson, Colorado.”

In the heart of Colorado Springs, Norman was stationed at Army defense headquarters at Ent Air Force Base.

Upon arrival Norman was joined by Sharon; the two lived in a basement apartment of “The nicest man, Mr. Biele.”

Sharon got a job in the surgery department at a nearby hospital; their total monthly income was $129.

“We ate a lot of fish, mac and cheese, and venison,” Norman said.

“Steak once a month, a quart of Coors beer and a bottle of olives,” Norman said was their once-per-month payday treat.

Norman shared a story of a sergeant offering him $10 to take his shift. “I worked a 20 hour shift that day,’ Norman said. “That was a lot of money in those days.”

While in Colorado, Norman worked in a heavily guarded communication center. “Guards at the steps, every entrance,” Norman explained. “My area was behind a two-foot-thick steel door. There were only two of us at a time doing all of the coding.”

Norman said he worked with a CW4 chief warrant officer and three-star general Robert Hackett.

“So you know who did all the work?” Norman asked, then answered. “Me.

“On duty it was ‘yes sir,’ ‘no sir,’” he continued. “Off duty it was Bob and Norm. We got along very well.”

Norman shared the story of one Colonel Gnomes who didn’t respond quickly enough to a “flash message” that came through Norman’s communication center. A flash message is urgent and top secret. This particular one needed a response in three minutes.

“He tried to say he was busy,” Norman recalled. “He liked to read the paper.”

It was Norman’s job to take the messages, then, after reading and decoding them, determine whether they needed to go to the warrant officer or even the general at the top of Cheyenne Mountain.

At another time, the same colonel came storming to Norman’s communications center and demanded Norman open the door. Gnomes did not have clearance to enter the room.

Norman said he grabbed his gun, cocked it, pointed it at the colonel and reminded him he didn’t have clearance and therefore wasn’t allowed inside.

“He’ll never forget me,” Norman said.

Gnomes could be seen “standing at attention” in salute for hours and hours later that day as punishment.

In January of 1968, Sharon gave birth, in a military hospital, to the couple's first of two children, Michael. Five years later the couple had Michelle.

Following Michael’s birth, Norman was soon to be stationed elsewhere, but insisted he was going to drive his wife and one-month-old baby back home to Minnesota first.

“Specialist Eckart, he’ll show up sometime in March,” Norman said his commanding officer put in the report.

During this time Norman saw many of his friends drafted and sent to Vietnam. He really wanted to go there, but kept having to wait for his deployment. He was told he was being shipped “somewhere more important.”

It turned out to be Izmir, Turkey, a communication center, 18 miles out into the mountains, a mile underneath the ground.

“It was huge,” Norman remembered. “When you have a power failure a mile underground, you learn what dark really is.”

Norman worked with the Turks, Greeks, Australians, British and “a couple Italians.”

During this time, since Norman’s work was classified, Sharon really didn’t know what her husband was doing. Even if it weren’t “need to know,” the cost of a phone call to Turkey was $67.

To get around this, Norman had friends from communications across the country connect calls from the Eckart home in New Richland, to New York, California, London and finally Izmer, Turkey. As he describes it, one party called from one phone line to the next as the call was transferred.

“Uncle Sam footed the bill,” Norman said. “It pays to have friends.”

Norman has many memories from his time in Izmer.

While there he learned of a Turkish foreign exchange student destined for the New Richland-Hartland School District, Mahmu Pilar. Norman spoke passable Turkish and tracked him down. 

“That was the first time I had turkish coffee,” Norman stated. “You could stick the spoon in it and it just stuck in. It was that thick.”

Norman recalled how friendly the village people were to him, despite warnings from his superiors to stay away.

“They couldn’t understand tips,” Norman recalled. “I’d hand them a dollar and they’d run around trying to find me the spare coins to make up the difference.

“‘No, it’s fine!’ I told them,” Norman pleaded. “They had no concept of ‘keep the change.’ They were that honest.”’

At Sharon’s insistence, Norman also shared a story of the ‘circumcision party.’

A young man was turning 12 years old, becoming a man. “I bought the dad a magnum of champagne, a carton of cigarettes, fake Chanel number 5 perfume for his wife and for the young man, a bottle of Aqua Velva aftershave.

“They treated me like I was the king of Russia,” Norman remembered. “I was a good American. I could go anywhere… They treated me fantastic.

“I treated those people right and they treated me right,” Norman continued. “I was probably the only American who went down to the village encampment and came back alive!”

With a young boy at home, Norman chose to retire from the service in 1969. His final title and rank, Sergeant E-5, his job, cryptographer.

The Eckart family states they have 19 close relatives, all veterans, including their son Michael. 

Notably, the Legion Hall in Morristown is named after Sharon’s great uncle, Roy Leader, who died in service to his country during World War I.

Norman said the biggest lesson he brought home with him from his time in the military was to recognize and appreciate the freedoms Americans enjoy.

“Thank the military,” he observes.