"I can imagine no more rewarding career. And any man who may be asked in this century what he did to make his life worthwhile, I think can respond with a good deal of pride and satisfaction: 'I served in the United States Navy.'"..... John F. Kennedy.
In the Navy, "A" school can be compared to high school. It's where Navy personnel learn the basics for their rating. There are a lot of ratings in the Navy and each has its own "A" school where newly graduated recruits go to learn a trade. Some ratings have a "B" school, which could be compared to college. Usually the personnel attending "B" school have been in the military and at their job for awhile and are further up the food chain. "B" school training is much more specific and career oriented. Some ratings have "C" school, which could be considered post graduate. In "C" school, you refine your training to a specialty. Most of the personnel attending "C" school are pay grade E-5 (petty officer second class) or above and have chosen to make the Navy a career. To the best of my knowledge, the Yeoman rating only has "A" and "C" schools.
I returned to Bainbridge, Maryland a new Seaman Apprentice (E-2) and ready to learn all about being a Yeoman. After boot camp, life in the military was a breeze. Oh, sure, there are regulations and inspections and watches to be stood. But after boot camp, you almost feel as if you're a normal human being again. I lived in the enlisted women's barracks. I had my own room. I didn't have to share it with anyone else and I didn't have to clean up anyone else's mess in order to pass inspection. If my quarters failed inspection, there was no one else to blame. Yes, we all shared the same head, and yes, we had work details and were assigned to maintain all the common areas on a rotating basis, as well as stand guard duty once in awhile. But, if I wasn't on duty, I could come and go as I pleased. I could go to the enlisted men's club and drink 3.2% beer (that stuff is awful) and dance with trees. I was my own master as long as I payed attention to all the regulations, didn't get caught out after curfew, and studied and passed everything necessary to graduate from school.
Actually, school was intellectually painless since I had an administrative background. We were taught how to properly format military correspondence and how to file it. We learned about security classifications and how each classified document was handled. And, we learned not to make typewritten mistakes because the Navy wanted 13 carbon copies of everything and there was no such thing as a photostatic copier (never mind a word processor or anything wonderful like a computer). The classroom was filled with males and females, though there were noticeably more males. Not coincidentally, there are also noticeably more males enlisted in the Navy than there are females (by about three to one). We had a lot of fun together.
One day while we were taking a break between segments, I was standing around outside with a group of classmates, probably smoking cigarettes, when one of the guys accidentally popped me in the mouth with his fist. He had been playing around and had not really meant to hit me. And, he didn't really hit me that hard. I felt it, but by the time we got back in the classroom, I had all but forgotten the incident. Until the middle of the night. I woke up with an agonizing toothache and it was the tooth he had accidentally hit. That tooth throbbed with each heartbeat. I took some aspirin or something (this was long before the plethora of today's pain relievers) but there was no relief (or sleep) to be had. The next morning, I reported to dental sick call. One of the benefits of being in the military is free medical and dental care. Unfortunately, mine was a case of you get what you pay for. My tooth had abscessed at the root and I needed a root canal. Now this was not my very front tooth, but the one right next to it. Obviously, this tooth was going to show every time I smiled (I don't smile often, but when I do, I don't want any gaps). I did NOT want it removed, I wanted it saved. And so it began. Oh, did I forget to mention, the dental staff in the Navy had apparently never heard of that great new invention -- Novocaine -- which had only been in common use since the early 1900's. The dentist had both his hands and a number of dental implements in my mouth all at the same time. I have a structurally small mouth; an awful lot of noise comes out of it, but it is not very big. The dentist drilled a hole in the back of the tooth and then took several different sized "reamers" and used them to rip the nerves from the tooth. I was awake and NOT ANESTHETIZED throughout the entire procedure. Then he punctured the abscess and plugged the hole to allow the abscess to drain. It was some relief to have the pressure of the abscess diminished, but I had been sitting in that chair with my mouth propped open by a dental dam for over an hour. I thought I was going to have lockjaw from this simple procedure. I had to go back two more times to have an anchor inserted in the tooth to keep it from loosening now that it was "dead" and to finally permanently fill the hole in the back of the tooth. None of the subsequent trips was any where near the horror story of the original, but I have to tell you, I would still be reluctant to visit a military dentist to this day. I have a niece currently in the Air Force who has just recently had a root canal and, apparently, no one has yet informed the military about the use of Novocaine.
Yeoman "A" school was nearing completion and we were all anxious to get our new orders. Once again the Navy allows you to choose, sorta. They ask for your top three choices where you would like to be stationed. Again, no promises are made. I picked Jacksonville Florida, San Diego California, and Honolulu Hawaii. Sometime during our last week of school, an officer came into our class and asked if anyone in the class knew how to take shorthand. There were a few women who raised their hand. They took all of our names and asked if we would be interested in participating in an experiment. It seems the Navy was curious about sending nonrated (meaning E-3 or below) personnel to "C" school. Yeoman "C" school was specifically for long term Yeoman personnel intent on becoming NEC 2514, Flag Officer Writer. This meant you were assigned to an Admiral (Flag Officer) as his personal secretary or admin. Cushy job if you can get it, and it was, up to this point, only offered to lifers. But, in a totally uncharacteristic and unprecedented flight of capriciousness, the U. S. Navy chose one of those nonrated Seaman Apprentices to go to Yeoman "C" School -- ME!!!
So, once again my preferences were ignored. No Jacksonville. No San Diego. No Honolulu. But this time it was by my choice so I was thrilled to receive orders to report to Yeoman "C" School in Bainbridge, Maryland.
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