In 1916 he joined the National Guard, where he was stationed in a cavalry unit. As an elderly man, he would enjoy chiming in when war stories were being bandied about: “I was wounded in the battle of Fifth Avenue,” he would explain. “The occasion? The Victory March, and I fell off my horse, in front of everyone. I had to walk back to the stable.” At this point, according to Rockwell, he himself was considered physically unfit to serve in the war because he was underweight: though he was between five feet nine inches and five feet ten and a half inches tall (his medical records vary), he weighed only 130 pounds. Claiming a fuzzy memory about the exact reasons he had not been inducted into the armed services, he added that his many dependents might have kept him at home, a totally illogical explanation that belies his apparent nonchalance about not enlisting along with the other young men his age. During these years of Rockwell’s early success, Jerry was irritated that his younger brother was getting more attention from the girls than he was; financial and social stature now mattered as much as looks and physical strength.
