Had his Naval Academy buddy won the presidency two years ago, retired Adm. Charles R. Larson would have been a regular in the White House these days, holding the title of national security adviser or perhaps secretary of defense.
But Sen. John McCain lost that Republican primary battle, and Larson finds himself on a very different battlefield - seeking to be Maryland's next lieutenant governor as the running mate of Democrat Kathleen Kennedy Townsend.
"I've had my day, I've had my time, I've been in command, and I've got my legacy that I'm very, very proud of," says the 65-year-old Larson. "While she's leading the whole state, I'll be able to go deeply into these areas that she's assigned me and work hard to make a difference. At this stage, that's enough of a challenge for me."
Townsend promises a broad portfolio for the man known along the campaign trail simply as "The Admiral." He's a natural to oversee issues of security and military veterans, and he would also likely focus on education, technology and business development.
And though Larson initially said he had no interest in ever running for Maryland's top job, he now says he has learned from three months on the campaign trail "never to rule anything out completely."
At first blush, Larson might appear to be a man unsuited to the worlds of Annapolis politics and door-to-door campaigning, juggling the concerns of Eastern Shore lawmakers with visits to the drug-ravaged neighborhoods of East Baltimore.
But his four decades in the military - submarine skipper, White House aide, commander of U.S. military forces on half the planet, two-time superintendent of the Naval Academy - have forced him to learn a few things about politics.
Perhaps not the partisan politics of Democrats and Republicans, but the politics of persuading congressional committees to back defense budgets and prime ministers of foreign countries to support U.S. military bases.
"I've got 20 years of executive experience doing exactly the same things that governors and lieutenant governors do," Larson says. "The overriding consideration that you take very seriously is that the lieutenant governor be qualified to take over as governor. I think I certainly qualify there. I've run organizations larger than most states."
At ease campaigning
The 6-foot-2-inch Larson has shed most vestiges of a stiff military persona and seems at ease on the campaign trail. He's quick to pull on a red union T-shirt when chatting with the Maryland State Teachers Association, plunge into a crowd of unfamiliar faces and trade low-key barbs with his opponent at an African-American fraternity meeting in West Baltimore.
"Even when he was in the Navy, he seemed naturally drawn to this kind of human interaction of campaigning," says his son-in-law, Navy Cmdr. Wes S. Huey, who began dating one of Larson's daughters while he was an academy midshipman and still has trouble calling Larson anything other than "Sir."
Born in South Dakota and raised in Iowa and Nebraska, Larson came to Maryland as a Naval Academy plebe when he was 17. He had never seen an ocean or traveled west of Denver or east of Chicago. Yet his leadership skills quickly emerged, and he was picked as the top-ranking midshipman of his 1958 graduating class.
He served first as a naval aviator, then made the unusual switch to submarines. He was the first naval officer to be selected to the White House fellow program in 1968, and then served as a military aide to President Richard M. Nixon - carrying the briefcase filled with the nuclear-weapon launch codes.
Larson returned to the water, commanding a nuclear submarine on some of the most daring - and still classified - spy missions of the Cold War. Larson says he once calculated that he has spent three years and 10 months of his life underwater, and he earned two of his seven Distinguished Service Medals for his duty aboard the USS Halibut.
In 1979, at age 43, Larson was promoted to admiral, the second-youngest in U.S. history. He served his first tour as superintendent of the Naval Academy from 1983 to 1986 and, after a stint as deputy chief of Naval Operations, became Commander in Chief, U.S. Pacific Command. He oversaw the 350,000 U.S. military personnel scattered across the Pacific and managed a $12 billion budget.
Along the way, Larson married Sally Craig, an admiral's daughter, and they have three grown daughters - Sigrid, Erica and Kirsten.
Officers who served with Larson talk about him with near reverence, describing him with words such as integrity and loyalty.
Retired Cmdr. Craig L. Etka credits Larson with keeping him in the service after he won admission to the nation's top oceanography school. The Navy wanted him to attend its lower-ranked program.
"He called me to dinner, asked me to take back my resignation and said he was going to find a way to get me in. And he did," says Etka, who was chief engineering officer for Larson aboard the Halibut and now works for Northrop Grumman in Maryland. "I went on to command, and whenever he passed through Hawaii, he always would stop by and have dinner at my house."
Years later, when Etka's daughter was an academy plebe in 1988, Larson stopped by her dorm room to visit and "shocked everyone in the dorm," recalls Etka. "That's the kind of man he is. He never forgets his friends."
One more tour
After being considered for the No. 1 position in the Navy, Larson was set to retire in 1994 when top Pentagon officials prevailed upon him to serve one more tour of duty at the Naval Academy. At the time, the academy's reputation was in severe decline - largely because of a cheating scandal that involved more than 130 students and drew adverse national attention - and Larson was the highest-ranking officer ever to serve as superintendent.
Larson tightened discipline and, despite a few rocky incidents involving the misdeeds of midshipmen, is credited with bringing significant improvements to the academy.
Upon retirement from the Navy, Larson and his wife bought a home in Annapolis just a few miles down the road from the academy. Though he has voted in every election since becoming eligible to vote, it wasn't until his retirement that he registered to vote in Maryland, according to Anne Arundel County election board records. His previous residence had been California.
Larson quickly set about building a lucrative post-Navy career, joining the boards of big corporations and start-up companies. He also began paying back his wife for the 77 Navy football games she attended while he was superintendent by acccompanying her to ballet and modern dance performances.
But Larson couldn't escape public service. As a two-time college president, he was tapped to lead a commission that recommended sweeping - and heralded - changes to Maryland's public university system. He then was appointed to the Board of Regents. Though offered the position of chairman, he turned it down, preferring to wait until he had been on the board and earned the trust of others.
"He's been one of the shining lights on the Board Of Regents," says former U.S. Sen. Joseph D. Tydings, a fellow regent.
As a regent, Larson served on the search committee charged with finding a new chancellor. Though he declines to discuss the inner workings of the search, other regents say Larson was one of the strongest opponents of the campaign by Gov. Parris N. Glendening to be named to the $375,000-a-year position.
"Quite frankly, I thought the role I would play to support Kathleen would be as chairman of the Board of Regents," says Larson, who is now the board's vice chairman.
In early June - before considering a run for lieutenant governor - the lifelong Republican said he had decided to switch his political party registration. He had signed up with the GOP to support his father's unsuccessful run to become Nebraska's secretary of state, and he says he has found himself out of step with the party on social issues for more than 15 years.
Unexpected pick
Among all the names considered by Townsend, Larson's was a most unexpected selection. Even he acknowledges being surprised.
The choice remained secret from even the most senior Maryland Democrats until the last moment and defied convention wisdom that her running mate should be African-American or come from populous Montgomery County.
Larson and Townsend concede the process should have been handled in a different way. They have also spent time wooing black leaders and making commitments to issues of interest to the African-American community - though some resentment lingers.
"When she had an opportunity to pick an African-American lieutenant governor, she chose a white Republican," said Del. Tony E. Fulton, a Baltimore Democrat who has not endorsed either gubernatorial candidate. "I think there are quite a few of us who still have questions about her commitment to our community."
While Larson has worked to build his credibility among such traditional Democratic constituencies as black voters and union members, his strongest appeal continues to be among more-conservative voters - including many who say they wish he had signed on to the GOP campaign of Robert L. Ehrlich Jr.
"I really like you and want to vote for you," Joe Ament Jr. told Larson during a lunchtime campaign stop in the Northrop Grumman cafeteria. There's just one problem, the 59-year-old configurations manager added: "I wish you were running with Ehrlich."
Larson seems to take such comments in stride, saying they speak to his broad appeal to Marylanders. He is quick to add that he is passionately devoted to Townsend's vision.
Being loyal was important to Townsend during her eight years as Glendening's No. 2, as she was careful not to publicly break from the governor until after this year's legislative session. She has made it clear she expects that same degree of loyalty from Larson.
"My whole career in the military is founded on having your policy disagreements discussed in private," Larson says. "If the decisions don't go the way you want, you've got two choices - either get on board or resign on principle."
Larson acknowledges that it wasn't an easy decision to jump back into public life, saying he enjoyed the time with his wife in relative anonymity. When he agreed to join the ticket, he didn't hesitate to cancel a salmon fishing trip to Alaska. But he insisted the campaign give him the time off to take his grandson on an August Disney Cruise for his 10th birthday.
"We missed a couple of trips, but family stuff is always first," says Larson's wife, Sally, who tries to spend as little time as possible on the campaign trail. "There's a stereotype about the military, that if you get to the rank he got, you're a straight-laced, authoritative, no-fun kind of person. He's never been like that."
As Election Day approaches, campaign aides and leading Democrats credit Larson with having quietly stepped in this summer to help right the then-wobbling campaign - convincing Townsend that more focus and discipline were necessary.
"My military mind is always looking for more structure," Larson says. "When we made some changes, I saw myself going to more and more important events."
But Larson recognizes that if elected, he won't be in command, nor does he expect to be.
"Most of my work will be behind the scenes," he says. "I don't want to have cameras following me around all the time. I'm eager to dig in and do the hard work, to get into the Prince George's County schools and the city schools, to talk to teachers and parents and see what we can do."