Now, I was a little bit suspicious of recruiters, see. Back, oh, three or four years ago, I talked to the Army recruiter, and, oh, didn’t he make the Army sound good! He told me that I’d have a nice desk job, tracking missiles and such, and that it was clean, good work. But I checked with my uncle who retired from the military. I read the job description and the MOS [military occupational specialty] to my uncle and he said, “That recruiter is lying! You’ll be out in a field in a tent where it’s cold and rainy, and you’ll have this little machine, and every time Saddam Hussein fires one of his missiles, you’re going to be the first one to get hit. You see, the Army guys, they just told you what you wanted to hear, so you’d join up with them, you know?” But Petty Officer Johnson, he told it straight. I was DEP [Delayed Entry Program] for a month and a half, and he kept in touch all the time, till it was time for him to come and pick me up and take me down to the military entry processing station in Montgomery. I’m looking forward to boot camp. I’m older than some guys, but I can march pretty good, and know all the commands from being in the marching band in high school. I’m going to be an aviation apprentice when I graduate, and I’m looking forward to getting down to Pensacola, which isn’t far from my family and daughter in Birmingham.
Kelly, Freeman, Hopkins, Gildersleeve, and all their new shipmates had similar experiences after deciding to enter the Navy. All were transported by their recruiters to one of sixty-five military entry processing stations (MEPS) around the country. There they were tested, screened for drugs, and presented with a formal contract outlining their obligations and what the Navy promised in return. Most enlisted for four years, although those who were accepted for advanced training made a six-year commitment. Many would receive substantial bonuses after completing initial training. All were introduced to the time-honored military tradition: hurry up and wait.
Arturo (Artie) Guiterrez, 18, Imperial, California
After my friend decided not to join up, they told me to be ready to go by myself real early Tuesday morning. Petty Officer Del Angel picked me up, and we left at three A.M. and went down to San Diego, to the MEPS station. We were supposed to be done there by eight o’clock, but they didn’t come for us until ten. We went over to the airport, and we had to hang around for a couple more hours. There were three of us, and we got separated at the airport, so we had to run around there at the end, looking for each other. It was my first flight, and it was fun. When you first go up, it kind of sucks you in; it’s like a roller-coaster ride. We stopped at Denver, and we had to run like crazy because we were late getting there, and it was raining.
Mary A. Smith, 21, Denison, Texas
I left my mom’s at three in the morning, too. We stayed up all night, packing my bags, and I pretty much had my whole family call, and I think I got maybe thirty-five minutes of sleep the entire night. My recruiter was supposed to be at my house at four o’clock, but I called him and told him to hurry up and come over before I changed my mind. My bags had pretty much been packed beside the front door, but I kept finding other things and packing and repacking just to keep busy. He came and got me, and took me to the processing station in Dallas. I got another physical, and waited around for awhile, then got on the plane with a lot of guys who were coming to the Navy, and we were all really nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. I don’t have any friends in the Navy, and I didn’t know what was going to happen, and nobody wanted to tell us anything. One funny thing happened at the MEPS station, though. They started calling me Smith Comma Mary, because there are so many Smiths, I guess, and the Navy has called me that ever since.
Jesse James Mathis, 19, Forest, Mississippi
I was on the delayed entry program, so I had been running an asphalt machine doing highway construction work all summer. It was pretty hot when I left Mississippi, so I was wearing a tank top and no socks. When the recruiter came and picked me up at the house, he took me to the MEPS station at Jackson, Mississippi. Me and a bunch of old boys there, we checked into a hotel and went across and ate at Denny’s. Then we went and got us a bottle of whiskey and about four cases of beer. There were about six of us, all coming into the Navy. We drank awhile there at the Best Western, and swam in the pool till, oh, one o’clock or so, and just partied the rest of the night. I was tired that next morning, but we all went back over to the MEPS station, did our paperwork, then we just stood around and played pool and talked and stuff. They finally called all the people who were going to boot camp, and took us over to the airport in Jackson. We flew on Northwest up to Memphis, and then we changed planes for O’Hare. I fell asleep on the plane to Chicago, so I missed the food and was pretty hungry and cold by the time we got to Chicago.
Schely Rasco, who thought air traffic control sounded interesting, also arrived at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport that afternoon. It had been her first flight. Adding to her nervousness, the recruiters in Kansas City had placed her in charge of a detachment of seven other recruits. The plane was crowded, and she wasn’t able to sit with anyone she’d met at the military entry processing station. She was among the last to leave the airplane, and by the time she did so, the others had lined up outside the gate, and saluted her. Laughing, they set off to find the United Services Organization (USO) center.
Marschel (Schely) Rasco, 24, Springfield, Missouri
It was a real mess. I’ve never flown at all, so I didn’t know what to expect at O’Hare. It’s huge, and we really didn’t know where we were supposed to go. We flew in on American Airlines, and we had to get to the United terminal. Then we had to find the USO. It’s up on a mezzanine above the ticket counters. We were wandering all over the place, looking for the stairs. Some of the guys wanted to stop and get something to eat, but I kept the group together. Finally, I asked a man where it was, and he pointed to this little unmarked door off to the side. We’d still be there if I hadn’t asked, I guess.
FC2(SW)* David Mesmer of the receiving detachment at O’Hare airport, explains: “The Navy contracts with the USO to use their lounge. Each recruiter is supposed to give his detachment detailed directions on how to find us. When they arrive, we go through the list of prohibited items, to give them a chance to dump cigarettes, snacks, and anything else they can’t take out to the base. We have a big-screen TV, drink and snack machines, and telephones for recruits while they wait. There are usually a couple of USO volunteers to help when we’re busy. Many recruits arrive in the afternoon, although they can arrive at any time, depending on the airlines. We expect most in the early evening, but we can send small groups out to the base by van or taxi, when we need to.”
The recruits met and socialized while awaiting the first bus to Great Lakes. Although there was no guarantee that they’d be assigned to the same division, those on the same bus had a better than even chance of staying together for the nine and a half weeks of boot camp. Rasco soon encountered others who would become part of Division 005. One was Devon Caldeira.
Devon (Dee) Caldeira, 19, Park Slope, Brooklyn, New York
I started meeting people right after we got to the airport. A bunch of us from Fort Hamilton, New York, had come together—Perez in our division is from Brooklyn too, East New York—and we all caught the bus over to Newark Airport. All the time I was on the bus, I was thinking about my family, and my house, and if I was making the right decision to come to the Navy, you know? When I was on the plane, I was looking around to see as much of New York as I could, looking down to see if I could see my house, even though I knew I couldn’t. I was just thinking about my family, my sister and my brothers, and maybe if I get to the airport I could change my mind, but once you’re on the plane, it’s a one-way street and you can’t come back. We got to Chicago, and I still wasn’t sure this was what I wanted to do.
Division 005 included recruits from thirty states, the largest contingent (15) coming from California.
Marleane Paes, 18, Rialto, California
I grew up about ten miles west of San Bernardino. When I got up that last morning a
t home, I thought I was just dreaming. I had a lot of regrets, because it was my last day at home, and I really didn’t want to leave. When Petty Officer Fuentes came to pick me up, I was really nervous, but I knew that I had to go. Once I got down to San Diego, they held me back for four days, because they thought that they had some incorrect tests for me, but it turned out that the results were right, after all. But I met up with two other people there at the MEPS station during those four days, so it was better. We flew over here together, the three of us, and the other girl, Jennette Zaragoza, wound up in 005, too. I was so scared, because I had never been on an airplane, and everyone was telling me to calm down, and not worry about the turbulence and all. When we got to Chicago, we went to the USO office as we were told, and we walked in the door in a little group. There were other people coming up to the office right at the same time we were. They made us empty out all food, all the stuff that they won’t allow. I talked to this nice girl from Missouri—it turns out it was Rasco, and we’d be in the same division and all.
By five thirty, the lounge was full. AME 1 (AW)* Myron Harris, a fifteen-year Navy veteran, entered the lounge. One of a cadre of experienced petty officers—he had “pushed” six recruit divisions during his tour at Great Lakes—Harris would escort the new recruits from the airport to Recruit Training Command. Standing in front of the reception desk, Harris, who had no need for the public address system, addressed the now silent recruits.
“All right people! Listen up! From now on, there’s no talking, understand? When I give you the word, I want you to get up, get your gear, hold that gear in your left hand, and if you have orders, hold those orders in your right hand. Is that understood? And let’s get one thing straight right now. The only acceptable answers are ‘yes, Petty Officer,’ ‘no, Petty Officer,’ or ‘I don’t understand, Petty Officer.’ Now, is that clear?”
“Yes, Petty Officer!”
“Very good, then. Line up outside in the passageway. I want the males to fall in to the right, and the females to the left. When I tell you, and only when I tell you, you will proceed down that passageway, down the ladder, and out onto the main deck of the terminal. You will stop as soon as you get out on that main deck, and you will wait for me, is that understood? Now, move out!” Several recruits chuckled at the unfamiliar nautical terms, but did as ordered. Petty Officer Harris was not amused. Later he explained, “Well, at some point they have to start boot camp. We’ve decided that the bus ride is as good as anywhere to get them into the right frame of mind. It gives them something to think about, going out there, too.”
Harris followed the last recruit down the ladder, and moved to the head of the line of waiting recruits. Quickly he led them to a large motor coach parked at the curb.
Jennifer Arcia, 19, Silt, Colorado
Oh my gosh, I was scared. This man was yelling at us, and he didn’t even know who we were. He broke everything down into little pieces. “First you open the door, then you go down the steps, then you open the door at the bottom, then you go out.” I thought, is this what boot camp is going to be like?
Petty Officer Harris continued, “Board the bus in single file, move to the back, and take the first available seat. Keep your belongings on your lap, and fold your hands on top of them. Place nothing on the floor, and nothing in the rack overhead. Now, do it.”
“Every single thing we do, we do for a reason,” Harris remarked later. “We make them keep their belongings in their laps, because, every time we’d made a bus run, someone forgot something. Or they’d get worried about contraband, and we’d find knives, drugs, you name it—up on the racks. These buses make three or four runs an evening, we’d have a mess every night. And lining up the way we did topside—well, that puts the females up front in the bus where I can see them and keep them out of harm’s way.”
Jennifer Buki, 19, Erie, Pennsylvania
The bus ride from the airport was completely silent, like, we weren’t allowed to even talk to the person next to us. Couldn’t talk, couldn’t do anything; you looked around and you saw no faces that you knew, whatsoever, and you were wondering, like, is this person going to be my friend and am I ever going to see this person again. It’s just, like, a total cultural shock, and you don’t know what to do, or where to stand or whatever, to avoid getting yelled at.
The bus was equipped with video monitors. A videotape The Days Are Long But the Weeks Fly By gave the recruits a hint of what to expect on arrival. The recruits remained silent, lost in their own thoughts, as the bus fought the early evening rush-hour traffic on the hour-long journey toward boot camp. The base is located thirty-eight miles north of downtown Chicago and twelve miles south of the Wisconsin state line. Their anticipation and anxiety grew as the bus pulled off Interstate 94, and headed east on Illinois 137. It took only a few minutes more to arrive at Great Lakes.
Woodrow (Woody) Carpenter, 23, Lebanon, Missouri
That’s when I got worried. I had been looking out the window, trying to figure where we were going, but it was dark and raining a little. But when we pulled up and turned in that gate, I figured, well, this is it.
Turning left into the base, the bus stopped at Building 1405, the Recruit In-Processing Center. Dedicated to the Golden Thirteen, the first African Americans to be commissioned as naval officers, the modern, red-brick center opened in June 1987. It replaced a rabbit warren of wooden barracks, which had served as the gateway to the Navy since the early days of World War II. For the recruits of Division 01-005 (generally shortened to 005), boot camp was about to begin.
*Petty Officer Mesmer is a fire controlman, second class (E5), with surface warfare qualifications.
*Petty Officer Harris is an aviation structural mechanic—safety (E6), with aviation warfare qualifications.
2
The Recruit Division Commanders
While the new recruits were flying to Chicago, six senior Navy petty officers crowded around their boss’s desk. MMCS(SW)* John Tucker consulted the master training schedule.
Senior Chief Tucker
Okay, then. Here’s what the schedule says. Chief Zeller, you’ll team up with Kent and Russell again, and you’ll be Division 005. You all have worked together before, right? And Senior Chief Nelson, you’ll have Chief Brown and Petty Officer Redekop as your partners, and you’ll be Division 006. Russell, did I hear you say that you’ll do the pickup? Now that summer surge is about done, things should go faster than last time. It looks like you’ll be ready to bring them over here around 0230. Kent and Redekop—why don’t you guys go topside when we’re done here and make sure your compartments are ready for the new divisions?
The recruit division commanders (RDCs) had mustered in Senior Chief Tucker’s office, just east of the quarterdeck in Ship Eight. To add nautical flavor to boot camp, the Navy has named each of its thousand-person barracks after a famous warship. The large brown and white sign outside formally identified the tan and white barracks as the USS Abraham Lincoln, but that name was rarely used in casual conversation. One of fifteen such buildings constructed during the Vietnam War, Ship Eight housed twelve recruit divisions and was staffed by two officers and thirty-six senior petty officers. MMCS(SW) John Tucker was the ship’s leading chief petty officer (LCPO).
Senior Chief Tucker I’ve been ship’s LCPO since March. I went to boot camp here, myself, over in Ship 13, in the spring of 1986. I’ve been in the Navy for fifteen years. After I finished boot camp, I attended service school across the street. When I finally left Great Lakes, I went aboard the USS Santa Barbara (AE28) in August 1986. We left on deployment that very same day; I remember I had only four or five hours to find a place to park my truck for six months. I stayed aboard the Santa Barbara for four years, and made it to MM2 before I left. I came back up here as an instructor. Everybody thinks teaching is easy, but we lit off that 1,200-pound steam plant and secured it three times a day. In a lot of ways, that was more work than sea duty. We were selling a lot of our frigates to other countries at the time, s
o I taught a lot of foreign Navy people, both enlisted and officers. That was a great job. After a shot at UDT [Underwater Demolition Team] training school in California, I went aboard the USS Mount Vernon (LSD 39) as LPO of the forward engine room in June 1994. I made chief there, and came up here for the third time in 1998. I pushed six divisions on the street here, and I became LCPO in March when I was promoted to senior chief. When I leave here, I’ll go back to sea, so I’m always concerned about the quality of sailors we’re producing at Great Lakes. Someday, my life might depend upon them.
The recruit division commanders who would lead Division 005 over the next nine weeks introduced themselves.
FCC(SW)* Martin D. Zeller, Kansas City, Missouri
I came into the Navy in 1985. Unlike Senior Chief Tucker, I attended boot camp in Orlando, Florida. After boot camp, the Navy offered me a job as an electronics technician, fire controlman, or sonar technician, and I preferred being in the thick of things in fire control. I was selected for fire controlman schools, for a total of fourteen months. My first ship was the USS La Moure County (LST 1194) based at Little Creek, Virginia. A couple years after that, in 1989, I got a real great assignment for a fire controlman—I was assigned to the USS Iowa, one of the last four commissioned battleships. I was only on board a short time, and the Navy decided to mothball the battle wagons. That was just a couple months after the accident in the gun turret, where so many guys were killed. I pulled shore duty in my hometown, and worked at the MEPS at Kansas City, Missouri. After three years there, I went back to sea aboard the Arleigh Burke (DDG 51). Without a doubt, duty aboard the Burke was the best duty I’ve ever had. So, all in all, I’ve been around on three different classes of ships over the last fifteen years, all in the weapons departments. This is my third recruit division at Great Lakes.
Honor, Courage, Commitment Page 3