A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “At my funeral, take the bouquet of flowers off my casket and toss them to the crowd. You know… to see who’s next.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “At my signal, unleash hell.”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear the following?
   I met a gin-soaked, bar-room queen in Memphis
   She tried to take me upstairs for a ride
   She had to heave me right across shoulder
   ‘Cause I just can’t seem to drink you off my mind

Thanks to those who commented on my previous blog, #72—Those Memorable Moments, Part 2—NAS Agana, Guam. Several comments were spot on and reminded me of things I’d forgotten. Here’s a few more shared “memories:”

• “We married while on Guam, at Two Lovers Leap.”
• “I was there in the crash crew. Learned to scuba dive. Never wanted to leave.”
• “Dad was stationed at the radio base 68-70. 2nd grade we went on a field trip to the Air Force base and got to walk thru a B52.”
• “Did some diving there & had a run in with a really big Moray eel.”
• “NAS Agana for 3 years. Loved it.”

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Boot Camp

It’s been a long time since I graduated Boot Camp (Orlando RTC, Co #163, August 31, 1973), but now and then, a memory (mostly good) pops up. I’m sure I’m not the only one.

For me, boot camp was a shocker: dormitory-style living, unidentifiable food, early mornings, and routines—totally different from home. I was all of 18 years old and “legally” able to sign documents. My parents didn’t know I had joined the Navy until “that” phone call.

When you’re young, you’re invincible. At least, you think you are. The Navy—and I assume all military branches—knows this. So it took a while but I later learned that a primary mission of boot camp was to break down all the individual recruits and build them back up as a team.

Even though I’d heard rumors from veteran friends while in college, none prepared me for what I would experience. Now… more than 47 years later, I know those first months in the Navy helped me develop a discipline that I (sometimes) still follow: listen, be aware, and help out when I can.

Yes, I know those aren’t necessarily the things taught in boot camp, but they’re traits I learned in the Navy, starting with my ’73 Orlando venture. I’m sure there are others who carry on many of those disciplines picked up in your service, whether it be the Navy, Army, Marine Corps, Air Force, or Coast Guard. We are veterans.

You can take the veteran out of the service, but you can’t take the service out of the veteran.

The Garbage Can “Alarm”

I think… yes, I know… that boot camp was the ONLY time I’d been woken to the sound of a 50-gallon metal garbage can being kicked down the middle of the barracks and someone shouting vulgar obscenities at the top of his lungs, “Time to wake up, ladies… You’ve got fifteen minutes to shower and shave.”

Welcome to the United States Navy—it’s 0400 (pronounced “O four hundred”). That’s four o’clock in the frigging morning. Before heading to the “head” (bathroom), we first stood in front of our bunks. The Company Commander (CC) counted to make sure no one had jumped the fence to go AWOL (Absent without Leave).

And yes, even today when the garbage collectors come by to pick up the weekly trash (curb service here) out in front of my house, banging the can as loud as they can, I periodically remember those boot camp days… but this time, with a smile. Thank God, it’s not 0400.

That First Haircut

“Hurry Up & Wait” was a mantra we all learned early on in the military. We spent so much time waiting in lines—and by that, I mean we were “nice & tight,” or as the Navy likes to say, “Nut to Butt.”

This was in the early 70s—“hippie days,” as we’d come to call them. Almost every recruit had long hair. Standing at attention outside the barber shop, we watched as recruit after recruit went in as one man and came out a completely transformed new man—rubbing the top of his head, like something was missing. Some smiled, others had that “what did I get myself into” look.

There were five or six barber chairs in the place. There was also about two feet of hair on the floor, almost like walking through a field of wheat—you remember that scene in the movie “Gladiator” with Russell Crowe walking through the fields.

I hopped into the chair and asked the guy with a slight smirk to “take a little off the top.” After 30 seconds of a close buzz, he barked, “How’s that smartass? Next!”

Welcome to the United States Navy.

Inspections Galore

Did I mention inspections? There were uniform inspections, there were personnel inspections, there were barracks inspections, there were locker inspections, and there were inspections of inspections.

This was also in the middle of summer, so we spent a lot of time outside. Let me tell you, the summer of 1973 in Orlando, Florida was hot and humid. Actually, every summer in Orlando is hot and humid. Every company was also in competition with every other company for the best inspection record. If a company scored perfect on an inspection, that company received a banner to put alongside their company flag.

During one of our outdoor whites uniform inspections, the CC got all the way down the last row, stopping in front of the guy next to me. His uniform, as everyone else’s, was impeccable, except that he had placed his military ID card backwards in his white shirt pocket. I got chewed out for his “mistake” too, because I should have inspected my buddy before the inspection and caught that significant “discrepancy.”

We flunked that inspection, just when we thought we would get our first perfect uniform inspection. Afterward, we let that young recruit know he disappointed us.

Locker Inspection – The “Tornado” Effect

We not only learned how to fold clothes the Navy way, we also learned how to properly store them neatly into our stainless steel lockers in front of our bunks, one stacked on top of another. No doors and only one drawer that we could lock which is where we put our personal valuables, such as money, writing paper, and stamps. At a glance, the CC could quickly inspect the neatness, or lack thereof, of all our lockers and clothes.

We learned how to fold and stack clothes quickly, because if everything was not ship-shape, the CC would go through the entire barracks and yank every recruit’s uniforms out of the lockers and scatter them all around. It literally looked like a tornado had hit the inside of the barracks.

Yeah, that was fun. Welcome to the United States Navy.

If any one of us failed inspection, we all failed as a company and that meant a deck party.

Hello Dollys

Anyone remember “deck parties?”

Oh yeah… lots of deck parties. Whenever anyone screwed up, which usually happened several times a day, the CC called the entire company to attention in front of their racks. A deck party is, by definition, a party on the deck. There are no floors in the Navy, only decks.

Picture this: 80 recruits on the deck in front of their racks at one time doing whatever the CC told us to do. Push-ups, sit-ups, jumping jacks and my favorite, “Hello Dollys.”

Hello Dollys are really simple, but they suck the strength right out of you. Today’s extreme core exercises can’t even compare to Hello Dollys.

Follow me on this one and try it… go ahead, I dare you.

You lie on your back face up with your legs stretched out in front of you, nice and relaxed. In Yoga, this is the Shavasana, or “Corpse” pose. The CC tells you to lift your legs off the floor six inches, keeping them straight, and hold them steady. And yes, he carried a ruler in his pocket to measure the distance off the floor.

No cheating now, you can’t place your hands under the small of your back, you lay them flat on the deck by your sides. Wait ten seconds or so—not too bad. Then, when the CC says to, raise your legs up another six inches.

After another ten seconds, the burning pain in your thighs reminds you it’s another fine day in the Navy. Then raise your legs up another six inches, more burning, more moaning. In an 80-person orchestra, this volume buildup would be called a “crescendo.”

Then just when you thought you’d get a break, spread your legs as wide as you can and yell at the top of your voice, “Hello Dolly.”

Yeah, you get the picture. It doesn’t take too many of those babies to help get your body in shape.

Service Week

One of the training exercises in boot camp is to send everyone in the company out to various jobs around the RTC for a full week.

One group goes to the galley (kitchen), one group goes to the scullery (dishwashing), another group goes to administration, another goes to help with newly arriving recruits, another goes to help with classroom training, and a few guys stay for barracks detail.

Groups would split out at different times in the morning and come back to the company barracks at night when their shift was over.

This was called “Service Week,” and designed to see if the company could hold together with everyone heading out in different directions throughout the day. Since I was the company Yeoman (the CC selected me when he learned I knew how to type), it was up to me to assign recruits to the various jobs.

Service Week: Power…

As the company Yeoman, I learned the term “wielding power.” If I didn’t like a guy, I’d send him to a crap job. If I did, I would send him to a skate job. Plain and simple. I didn’t abuse my position, I used it. Or so… I thought. It didn’t take me long to figure out that was not the way to lead. That helped me later when I became a Petty Officer and put in charge of other Crash crew at NAS Agana, Guam.

We’d often hear, “Make a hole, Service Week,” which meant that someone was in a hurry to do their job and you needed to quickly move out of the way in order for them to do it. Even today, I find myself saying, “Make a hole, Service Week,” usually when I’m in a crowd of people. It’s funny to watch their expressions when I say that, but they part like the Red Sea and I get through.

Am I the only one who still does this?

Service Week: Boring

As the company Yeoman, I stayed in the barracks during Service Week, in charge of the crew that kept the barracks clean. Big whoop tee-do. About the third day into Service Week, I decided I’d check on the guys in other areas. I headed to the mess hall and caught up with the guys who were in the scullery. There were about nine of them and they were sweaty and stinky with food all over their not-so-white T-shirts.

I joked around with them a little, and then one of the little bastards invited me to join them. Stripping off my utility shirt to my soon to be not-so-white T-shirt, I dove right in, helping them wash dishes. I spent a couple of hours there, laughing and joking with them.

This was one of those firsts I learned in life that if you want to understand what other people go through, you need to walk in their shoes.

That lesson has helped me in many ways throughout my life and my careers.

Graduation

I graduated August 31, 1973 with Company 163 from Orlando Naval Training Center. My parents received a letter from the NTC Commander noting what an exemplary young recruit I had been: “Outstanding Company Recruit.” For all I know, he sent the same letter to every graduate.

Unfortunately, I did not march on the parade grounds during graduation. I’d picked up a severe cold, and it had gotten so bad the CC (ADJ1 Louis Wright) didn’t want me to faint during the parade exercise, so I skipped out of the graduation ceremonies, though I sat in the bleachers and watched. It was quite a fanfare and even though my mom, dad, and sister were there, they didn’t know I was on the sidelines until later. I’m sure they kept looking for me on the parade field.

When I got home after graduation, I went to see my family doctor; he diagnosed me with pneumonia—fun. But with antibiotics an my mom’s great cooking, I got over it with little problem and was soon ready to report to ABH “A” School in Lakehurst, NJ. This would be my training to learn how to fight aircraft fires and how to direct aircraft on a flight deck.

More good times ahead. It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure!

Stay safe, my friends.

Until we meet again,
Andy

Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (’73-77) and the author of several books. His newest novel, NEVER FORGET, is the story of A Vietnam Veteran’s Journey for Redemption & Forgiveness. NEVER FORGET is FREE (eBook, PDF) for all veterans. Download your FREE copy HERE.

Previous posts mentioned in this blog:

• #72—Those Memorable Moments, Part 2—NAS Agana, Guam
• #4—From Civilian to US Navy
• #24—Hurry Up and Wait!
• #35—US Navy “A” School (ABH)

Answers

1. Anonymous.
2. Gladiator (2000), Maximus (Russell Crowe).
3. Honky Tonk Women (1969), The Rolling Stones; written by Keith Richards, Mick Jagger.