My (Naval) Adventure with Jesus — 24
Recruit Training Center, Part One
Among the techniques the Navy used to change civilian teenagers into military men in merely eight weeks was “Culture Shock”. It’s a method designed shock a person out of one life and into another. It begins by completely isolating a person from everything familiar then bombarding them with completely new sights, sounds and sensations. Added to this are many “mind games”. This is very effective on the typical youth, but I was neither “typical” nor a youth. I had my 29th birthday in boot camp. In addition my experiences in Shiloh and having the course of my life radically changed when I turned to Jesus had tempered my mind and soul. Most recruits are openly crying by the third or fourth week of recruit training.
Because of the enforced isolation, I had no way of knowing how Teri was doing or feeling. She was on her own. I know that her parents, Lee and JD Hall, helped. They always help. It’s who they are. Before I graduated eight weeks later, Teri, Jason, and Alondra had moved into an apartment. But more about that later.
Each day was full of fun filled activities. Up at 0400 (that’s 4:00 am), 80 of us had 30 minutes to “use the facilities”, shower and shave. Racks had to be made in a precise manner (which I can still duplicate if needed), and the barracks swept. Then out and formed up in ranks before 0500. We had to line up in a specific order. Three rows, shortest to tallest from left to right. We learned various close order drill marching maneuvers on the way to breakfast. After breakfast back to the barracks with more marching practice. Chief Hernandez chose the shortest recruit to be the “guidon”. The guidon is also the name of that company flag which he carried. He was responsible to lead the company as we marched, calling cadence and keeping us on course as a single unit. We learned later that the Chief chose the shortest “boot” to make sure we could all keep up. If the guidon was a tall guy the shorter men might not be able to make the long strides.
After our quick march to the Galley and breakfast we returned to the barracks to prepare them for inspection before continuing with our training, shots, etc. Each day our quarters were inspected and the results of the inspection produced positive or negative points for our company. Everything that one did or did not do affected all. All bunks were inspected as well as each and every locker. Our uniforms, socks and skivvies had to be folded in a very precise manner with no wrinkles of any kind. Now, we all know that once you wash a knit T-shirt, socks, or underwear there is no way to fold them exactly flat. But our CC (Company Commander) had an effective strategy. Each day one set of clothing went to the laundry to be washed while we wore another. At the end of each day the freshly laundered uniforms would be placed in a large pile in our barracks. We’d iron them that night and wear them the next day. We each wore two sets of cloths for the full eight weeks. The rest were perfectly folded and carefully placed in our lockers never to be touched, remaining ready for inspection at all times. And woe to the hapless recruit who moved or unfolded those “special” inspection uniforms!
The highlight of the inspections was the bathrooms. Take the shower, for example. No soap film was allowed to remain on the wall or floor. You may ask, “How does one check for soap film if it looks clean?” Here is the technique. Take black ball cap and wipe it the length of the 20 foot multiple shower head room. If there is any white residue on the cap, the shower failed the inspection. The same method was used on all the sinks and toilets too! To make our clean up for the inspectors a little easier our CC orders us to use only one half of the shower room, half the sinks and only one toilet and urinal. Theoretically that kept the unused facilities inspection ready. Of course this greatly complicated meeting the limited time schedule with all 80 of us getting ready to go each morning.
We tried many different approaches to cleaning the showers before we found a method that would pass every time. We would clean each individual tile one-by-one. The only cleaning agent that left no residue was spit. Yes, that’s right. We would spit on a 4”x 4” tile, scrub and polish it then move to the next tile. Cleaning this was caused two things. We passed the inspections and we all had “cotton mouth” when we were finished from spitting until we had no more spit to spit with.
In the berthing area every rack was inspected and measured. The sheets and blankets had to be stretched taut and folded back from the head of the bed. The distance from the head and the length of the fold had to be exactly equal. It’s pretty tricky to get them both the same and a specific length. They both had to be exactly one “BJM”, and the fold itself had to also be one “BJM”. A “BJM” is a special unit of measure for Navy boot camps. We had each been issued a BJM on our first day of boot camp along with all our other gear. The Blue Jackets Manual or “BJM” was our primary study guide and source of information for all things Navy that we were to learn and become proficient in. For measuring purposes a BJM was the length of the book. ¼ inch too long or too short failed the inspection.
No dust or “ghost turds” were allowed on the floor or under the racks. The best way to clean the floor was to wrap a mattress in a wool blanket and drag it under all the racks and over all the open spaces. The wool was like a magnet attracting all foreign material. We took turns volunteering our blanket for the floor duty.
After dinner we had lessons from Chief Hernandez lasting until late at night. Lights out took place at 2200 (10:00 pm). The CC stayed to make sure there were no sounds coming from us other than “sleeping” sounds. When someone thought it was safe to whisper to the man in the next rack and Chief Hernandez was still listening, the lights came on with the CC yelling and cursing. We’d all fall out to begin “steaming up the windows”. That meant very vigorous exercises next to our racks until the windows of the barracks were fully steamed up and dripping. Then with a stern warning to be silent we’d be ordered back into the racks. If no one spoke we’d stay there until morning. But someone always just had to say something so we’d so it over again. Some people were slow to learn to shut up when commanded to do so. I was glad I had been working out in preparation for boot camp!
Part of our processing was to be assigned to our “Rate” (job) in the navy. I ran into a snag at that point. During my interview with a CPO he became quite agitated when he heard that I had “experimented” with controlled substances (marijuana and hashish) 300 to 400 times. He was sure I had enlisted fraudulently! So he compared my remarks to the induction documents. Since they matched he could not kick me out and send me to jail. It seemed he was disappointed since I was not the kind of person he wanted in his navy. But, he told me that there was no way I would get into the Poseidon Electronics program. I wasn’t disappointed, since all I wanted was advanced electronics (Poseidon would have been icing on the cake). But since they could not give me what was promised in the contract I was required to call home to talk is over with my wife (Teri) because I could have legally separated from the navy since they could not keep their part of the contract.
Now this was a big deal! An easy out from my six year commitment! Plus, recruits don’t get a phone call until the fifth week of recruit training. This was during the third week. I got to call home two weeks early! Teri and I spend only a minute or two discussing whether to continue or not. We both thought I should keep on going. Then we talk for about 30 minutes about how each of us was doing. That’s when she told me that she was seeking the LORD again!
To me that was additional confirmation that joining the navy was really God’s plan after all. I did not really have doubts at that point. We really did not have time for thinking during those days. Our only free time was to write letters for a brief time each evening. We had been able to purchase some navy stationery with scrip and a small store called an exchange. I still had my address book, and wrote to every Christian I knew in the Phoenix area asking them to come along side Teri to help her continue with Jesus. I knew that spiritually she was very vulnerable and needed the support of fellow believers. I found out later that not one brother or sister called or visited her even one time. In light of how it all turned out it’s hard to not cast some of the blame on those who did not step up to help her. But as God has been and is forgiving to me for my own failures and does not condemn me at all, so I also seek to be gracious to my brethren from Phoenix at that time.
I was assigned to become an FTM or Fire Control Technician, Missiles. That means working with radars and weapon systems. But I really did not know all that would be involved yet.
