As new recruits, we, of course, had physical training exercises and were expected to pass a strenuous physical fitness examination. Part of the exam included being able to jump (or dive) off a 10' platform into a regulation Olympic size pool, swim to the far end and back, and then stay afloat (out of the swimming lane) for five minutes. It didn't matter what method you chose to stay afloat; treading water, floating, whatever, as long as you didn't drown in the alloted five minutes. This was the U. S. Navy, after all -- ya know, ships, water, that kinda thing. There were an amazing number of women who had voluntarily enlisted in the U. S. Navy and did not know how to swim, but non-swimmers were given lessons. If you could not pass the swim test, you could not graduate from boot camp and your days in the Navy were over. One girl in our company, who unfortunately never passed the test, was so afraid she could not even jump off the platform into the pool. I had learned to swim while we lived in Miami. Two of my brothers (who shall remain nameless but whose first names start with G and J) got frustrated with trying to teach me to swim. Just for the record, learning to swim in the Atlantic Ocean is not quite the same as learning to swim in a swimming pool. Anyway, nameless G and J somehow "found" an inflatable raft. They must have stolen it from some other poor kid at the beach because we sure didn't have the money to buy a raft. They placed their darling younger sister in the middle of the raft and floated her out past the breakers. Then they picked her up and tossed her out into the ocean. This is known as the sink or swim method, and it was quite effective, though more than a little bit scary. J assured me he would have saved me before I drowned if their approach had failed, but I for one am glad we never had to put it to the test.
So, the swimming part of the test was no big deal for me (actually none of the physical fitness stuff was a problem). I dove off the platform, stroked to the shallow end of the pool, did a splendid underwater turnaround, pushed off the side and cruised my way back to the deep end. Then I slipped over to the designated floating area and proceeded to lie on my back and float atop the water. There was a girl in our company we nicknamed Baby Huey. If you are not familiar with Baby Huey, look him up. She was the perfect human incarnation for this cartoon character. She also was not a particularly good swimmer and was not comfortable in water (she joined the Navy, why?) As I was relaxing and waiting for someone to tell me my five minutes were up, Baby Huey came into the stay afloat section and began her version of treading water. This very closely resembled someone drowning as she thrashed about in a great imitation of a wounded windmill. One of the desperate flings of her arms landed in my stomach. I was not prepared for an assault and unfortunately in my surprise opened my mouth to tell her where she should go with her floundering at precisely the moment her other arm came down and pushed me beneath the water. I swallowed an enormous amount of pool water, came damn close to drowning and almost failed the swimming test. Our Company Commander cleverly insisted my five minutes had expired before I had a chance to retaliate. I did learn one very important thing during our swimming classes though. I learned to make waterwings out of my dungarees. I'm hoping I'll never need to use that little tidbit of information, but it's nice to know if I had to, I could do it.
As I mentioned earlier, we were all tested to find our strengths to determine for which rating (job) we would receive further training. Not everyone was chosen for additional training out of boot camp. Some girls who may not have tested well were immediately assigned to a duty station in an open billet and received on the job training. It was harder to make rank (pay grade) if you were sent to OJT. Each recruit was allowed three choices for additional schooling and training. You were not guaranteed to get your first, or your second, or even your third choice, but it gave the Commander some idea where you wanted to go with your Navy career. My first choice was Air Traffic Controller. I had no background in anything having to do with airplanes, but it sounded like an exciting job and that's what I wanted. I don't remember what my second choice was, but it was something equally off-the-wall. My third choice was Yeoman. It was my fall back choice since it was an administrative type job and I had been an executive secretary for three years prior to enlisting. I had done well on the testing so I was fairly confident I would get my first choice. WRONG!!!! I was selected to go to Yeoman "A" school (which coincidentally was right there in Bainbridge) directly from boot camp. When I protested (you're not supposed to rock the boat; that's what following orders is all about but I have always played by my own rules), I was told they could not in good conscience ignore my three years of practical experience and it would be best for all concerned if I were to be designated a Yeoman. Bull! And just so you know how much bull it really was, several years after I was discharged and had gone through a painful divorce, I thought I might re-enlist in the Navy and make a career of it. I went to the recruiter. I filled out the application and took all the tests again. They dug up my personnel file from my previous enlistment wherein I had been promoted in the Yeoman rating several times and received special training (we'll get to that later). Then they told me they were going to send me to Air Traffic Controller school as they currently didn't need any more Yeomen. So much for not ignoring practical experience. I was furious, so I tore the enlistment application into confetti, told the recruiter exactly where he could put his control tower, and never looked back.
While attempting to adjust to life as a Navy recruit, you are also expected to learn some things. We had a lot of book-learning to do. We took classes in military ranks, Naval and the other branches because you salute a General just like you do an Admiral. We studied Naval history, identification of ships and airplanes (ours and theirs), guns, artillery and weapons of mass destruction, and biological warfare. We all got a wonderful treat one day when we were exposed to tear gas. Oh, we were given gas masks, and learned how to put them on. It's just the tear gas canister was set off without warning and we had to don the masks as we were being gassed. What a disgusting mess. I truly hope I never come in contact with tear gas again. Thank God they only told us about nerve gas and gave us the atropine kit. I wasn't too worried about having to use the atropine because I knew I'd never be leaving U. S. soil. Of course, I also assumed no one would ever bring war here to our country. Well, I was right on one count -- I never was stationed outside the U.S. But I was tragically proven wrong on the other count on September 11, 2001.
As our ten weeks of training were drawing to a close, certain outstanding recruits were chosen for leadership roles in the graduation ceremony. I wanted very much to be the standard bearer for our class. The person who carried the U. S. Stars and Stripes during graduation ceremonies could not have received any demerit points during recruit training. We were only two weeks away from graduation and I was still in the running. Until one morning, as we were hurrying back from breakfast, I tripped going up the stairs and scuffed the toe of one of my shoes. We had no time at all to do anything other than get back to the barracks and muster for personnel inspection. I tried rubbing the scuff mark on the back of my leg, and that helped a little, but it was still there. The personnel inspection was conducted by the Company Commander of our sister company. One of her girls was also in the running for standard bearer. I got five demerit points for unshined shoes. I believe if anyone else had been conducting the inspection they would have let it pass, but she didn't. I did have a leadership role at our graduation, but it wasn't the one I wanted. Not only did her girl get to be the standard bearer, but I found myself having to attend shoe shine school one evening during my free time. I use the term free time loosely here. In boot camp, your free time is spent washing and ironing, studying, writing letters home (an unyielding requirement each week), stuff like that. No one is ever just sitting around contemplating their navel.
At last our recruit training was completed and we really were in the Navy. My mother and sisters came from New Jersey for the graduation and I went back with them for a few days of leave. It seemed no time at all before I was packing my seabag and heading back to Bainbridge for Yeoman "A" school.
No comments:
Post a Comment