At the encouragement of a couple of classmates who enlisted before me, I joined the Navy right out of high school. This was nearly 20 years ago so let’s see what I can remember.
Scene: the military induction center in New Orleans, summer, 1986.
If you’ve heard “Alice’s Restaurant”, you already have the general idea: a bunch of little rooms where they inspect, detect, and neglect you. No injections, they come later. One room we went into, the inspectors, detectors, and neglectors had us strip, bend over, grab our ankles, and walk around in a circle like we’re all trying to bury our head in the butt of the guy in front of us. My digestive system couldn’t take the pressure so I let out a little fart, which got the other naked guys laughing. Then the inspectors, detectors, and neglectors had us stop and turn to our left so they could stick their fingers up our butts. I guess they took one look at the skintag hanging down next to my anus and decided not to give me an exam.
Another little room was the one for hearing tests. They tell us to press the button as long as we hear the beeps but I processed this as having to press the button every time I heard a beep. The inspector, detector, and neglector was not amused by the mountain range I created so he had me take the test again. So I did. This time, I held the button for as long as I heard beeps but I missed an entire frequency range in one ear. This means I failed the test and was sent home to have my ears cleaned. Over the next week, my parents flushed out both ears with a cleaning solution and I went back to the induction center for another hearing test. I had some difficulty with the highest frequencies but this is normal. I had passed!
The final little room is where the inspectors, detectors, and neglectors tell you when the next available spot is. I get “Great Lakes, February.” On retrospect, I should have held out for San Diego or Orlando. I’m from the Chicago area, or rather close enough to the Chicago area to pick up their TV signals. I know what it’s like in February.
Scene: night at the Great Lakes Naval Training Center, early February, 1987.
Damn, it’s cold! A whole bunch of us just disembarked from a bus, lined up, and marched–hands out of pockets–to the processing center where we are to be inspected, detected, and neglected but not as much as at the induction center. Injections are still later. I can’t hear too well because I’m still having trouble with my ears after the flight up from New Orleans. Everything sounds tinny. A group of us from New Orleans ends up staying in the NTC processing center until 3am because the induction center screwed up our paperwork, or at least that’s what we were told. Those of us, like me, with screwed up paperwork end up in Company 051 and get temporarily assinged to barracks on the north end of the base, near one of the gyms.
We get issued our uniforms and green canvas duffel bags then we get two pneumatic markers, one white and one black, and a stencil with our names, initials, company number, and the last four digits of our SSN on them. White markers are used on dark items, like our peacoats and raincoats, while black markers are used on everything else. Different parts of the stencils are used on different items. Our last name goes on the fronts of our denim shirts; last name and company number inside our shorts; full name, company numer, and SSN on our duffels. I don’t get pants right away because they don’t have anything in my size, at least that’s what I was told.
One day, while the company commander is doing rollcall, I start getting thirsty and need to ask to visit the scuttlebut (waterfountain). Asking to do so right after the CC called someone else’s name is a bad idea.
Eventually, the company is issued permanent quarters in one of the two divisions on the south end of the base. So, we march with full duffels from one end of the camp to the other. Anyone using the pedestrian tunnel under Buckley Road is required to sing “Anchors Aweigh” while doing so. On the way to our new home, I notice that the cadence “Left, left, left right left” when echoing off the buildings sounds like “Little, little, little by little”.
At our new home, things start going downhill for me. Turns out that I’m not adept at keeping my area neat and I start getting pains in my feet, part of which turns out to be caused by ingrown toenails. That’s not so bad because it qualifies me for light duty. One day, I start having trouble putting my weight on my right foot so I drop out of formation while the company was on its way to mess. I start hobbling back toward the divistion house when another recruit notices my trouble and shortly after that a car pulls up behind me. Turns out that sickbay’s podiatrists are in that car! So they take me to sickbay with them and I get xrays. They ask if I’ve dropped anything on my foot, which I haven’t. Then when the xrays don’t show anything, they accuse me of malingering, telling them my foot was broken, and stopping because I knew they were behind me. All of which is BS; I didn’t know anyone was behind me! Then there’s the incidents with the psychiatrsts, which I’ve related elsewhere.
One day, with an inspection pending, I get sent to the company one deck below ours. They’ve just come through processing and have been issued their markers & stencils. I decide to stay out of their way, which is another bad move. At least a recruit there is also on light duty so I get to keep him company until I get sent back to my own company.
Little by little, Chief Ambrose (my CC) becomes more exasperated with me. He’s labelled me a bug and takes it upon himself to get me in line. He’s decided that, given that I’m a few pounds over the Navy’s ideal weight, I like Twinkies, so he has me give a little performance for all the other CCs in the division: “follow the bouncing twinkie”, encouraging me to do pushups. Only I don’t like Twinkies, and what he’s holding isn’t a Twinkie anyway. Later, he decides to get me to doubletime like I’m supposed to by giving me a demerit. Only he can’t give me a demerit himself so he goes and gets someone who can, which results in the rest of the company getting demerits. That night, after hearing that Ambrose was able to get those demerits reversed–which makes sense because he caused them–I learn that the other ricks in my company had planned a blanket party for me.
Ambrose’s attempts at pushing me don’t work so I get sent to Intensive Traning–which I pass–then to the Motiviational Traning Uni–twhich I not only don’t pass but those in charge of the MTU threaten to give me two tours. I can’t even get through one, how the hell am I supposed to do two?
I end up with a discharge hearing and get sent home the same day my original company graduates. I probably could have stayed in if I had informed the officer in charge of the hearing the reason that Ambrose’s efforts and those of the MTU had no effect on me: I was used to all their little mind-games because I had to endure the same sort crap from one of my brothers. They weren’t doing anything new.