Courage. “I will support and defend...” Accordingly, we will have courage to meet the demands of our profession and the mission when it is hazardous, demanding, or otherwise difficult; to make decisions in the best interest of the Navy and the nation, without regard to personal consequences; and to meet these challenges while adhering to a higher standard of personal conduct and decency. We will be loyal to our nation, ensuring that the resources entrusted to us are used in an honest, careful, and efficient way. Courage is the value that gives us the moral and mental strength to do what is right, even in the face of personal or professional adversity.
Commitment. “I will obey the orders...” Accordingly, we will demand respect up and down the chain of command, and care for the safety and the professional, personal, and spiritual well-being of our people. We will show respect toward all people without regard to race, religion, or gender, and treat each individual with human dignity. We will be committed to positive change and constant improvement, and will exhibit the highest degree of moral character, technical excellence, quality, and competence in what we have been trained to do. The day-to-day duty of every Navy man and woman is to work together as a team to improve the quality of our work, our people, and ourselves.
At 0730, DCCS(SW)* Tom Vogt strode to the front of the room. Leading chief of the in-processing division, Vogt explained the meaning of these core values and their importance in the lives of every sailor. He then led the recruits through the “Moment of Truth.”
“Lots has been written about the ‘Moment of Truth,’” he said, when asked later. “It’s something that VIPs like to see when they come here. But it’s not as dramatic as they make it out to be. We simply tell the recruits, ‘Hey, now’s the time to set the record straight. If there’s something that you didn’t tell us before, and it can affect your eligibility to join the Navy, now’s the time to get it out on the table.’ We tell them that the majority of stuff that we hear at ‘Moment of Truth’ is no big deal: somebody got a speeding ticket on the way to the MEPS, or they got caught smoking a joint in the bathroom in middle school, or something. But we do find people who admit concealed felonies, or those who are in the country illegally, or have done other things which would bar them from serving in the military.”
Senior Chief Vogt read from a list of things that the Navy counselors standing in the rear of the room would be interested in exploring further. A handful of recruits stood and, each escorted by a counselor, left the room. Most returned within a few minutes, but one or two were not seen again.
“We have a separation and segregation building,” Senior Chief Vogt continued. “If we identify a recruit who doesn’t belong here, we’ll administratively process them immediately, and get them back home as quickly as we can. But they never mix with the other recruits after we’ve identified them at ‘Moment of Truth.’”
The recruits remained in the classroom for the remainder of the morning. At intervals, specialized screening teams for nuclear propulsion, communications, and intelligence questioned the recruits. Much of the time, though, they were allowed to put their heads down on their desks and catch up on the rest that they had missed during the previous night.
Michelle Gray, 19, Baltimore, Maryland
I was really getting tired, and we hadn’t done anything physical yet. It was just hurry up and wait, all the time. We spent a lot of time in lines waiting to do something. There were lines for clothing issue, lines to get our Smart Cards, everything. I was wondering if we’d ever get any time to ourselves when we were in boot camp.
Marketta Hardin, 24, Springfield, Tennessee
I had a chance to talk to the girls near me. We were seated by divisions, so Pierce and Taylor and a couple others were right near me. The petty officers didn’t seem to mind if we talked softly, as long as there wasn’t anything else going on.
After a sack lunch, the recruits left the in-processing center and marched to the adjacent medical screening facility. They were interviewed about the general state of their health, had their eyes examined, and were issued any necessary prescriptions. Complete dental x-rays were taken and processed. The recruits were separated by gender, and each recruit received a complete, and private, medical examination. Once they had passed the medical screening, the recruits returned to Building 1405, and by midafternoon they were ready to leave the in-processing center.
Jessica (Blair) Hooton-Hetrick, 22, Colorado Springs, Colorado
Well, it was actually a lot better than I thought it would be. I mean, you’ve seen movies about boot camp, right? But the people were polite and professional, and there wasn’t the ‘herd’ thing, you know? I was surprised, I really was.
Fletcher I had signed up to be a hospital corpsman, so I was watching to see what they were doing, especially in medical. Most of them looked like they were real young, and I thought, gee, in a couple months, that might be me doing the physicals. That was kind of neat, seeing all that.
Kelly It surprised me that they were going to issue us new glasses. I had brought my own with me, but they said that everyone had to have the same kind for boot camp. I looked around, and saw a couple recruits with these big brown, ugly frames. I thought, man, they could do better than that. But that was the kind of glasses we were going to wear while we were at Great Lakes.
By early Wednesday afternoon the division had completed preliminary processing. Because of a federal holiday the following Monday, they would have a slightly extended P-Week (processing week) cycle. Most were so terrified that they wouldn’t notice the difference.
*Petty Officer Sparks is an aviation maintenance administrationman, first class (E6), with air warfare qualifications.
*Senior Chief Atkinson is a senior chief quartermaster (E8), with surface warfare qualifications.
*Senior Chief Vogt is a senior chief damagecontrolman (E8), with surface warfare qualifications.
4
Orientation
Chief Zeller and Petty Officer Kent had relieved Petty Officer Russell at noon. Together, they mustered the recruits in a classroom, introduced themselves, and gave the recruits an overview of what to expect during the next few months. After Monday’s holiday, they’d have a week of preparatory time, and the division would then be commissioned and begin a highly structured, eight-week training cycle. Recruits who showed acceptable progress would remain with the division and participate in Battle Stations, an exhaustive (and exhausting), twelve-hour test of every element of their training, in late November. Those who did not would be set back in training, and spend a few extra weeks—perhaps even a month—in boot camp. A training setback—generally referred to as an ASMO, for the assignment memorandum upon which the order was written—was an event dreaded by every recruit, and one to be avoided at all costs.
“We also try to give them an overview of the vocabulary of recruit training, even before we leave Building 1405,” remarked Petty Officer Kent later. “Simple things, like the use of the words ‘male’ and ‘female’ rather than ‘men’ or ‘women,’ or ‘guys and gals,’ or whatever they had used before coming here. We explain that the floor is now the ‘deck,’ the walls are the ‘bulkheads,’ and the restrooms are now the ‘heads.’ Otherwise, we might have some unfortunate social errors when they need to use the facilities.”
After a quick period of instruction on the grinder (the large paved area where drill is performed) outside Building 1405, the RDCs led the recruits back to barracks. Geography favored Division 005, since Ship Eight is near the center of the base. Constrained by railroad tracks to the east and west, and bisected by Buckley Road (Illinois 137), the base is about a mile and a half long, and a quarter-mile wide. Chief Zeller aptly describes it as being “like Manhattan, but without the subway.” As the weather turned colder, the recruits would appreciate their proximity to the galley, schoolhouse, and drill halls. Those on the far edges of the base could count on an additional ten- to fifteen-minute march each time they moved from building to building. The new recruits did not yet ap
preciate their good fortune.
Shannon Pierce, 19, Swainsboro, Georgia
Chief Zeller had us muster on the grinder, after we’d been at Building 1405 since early that morning. I had no idea where we were, or where we were going. He just told us to fall in, and to try to keep in step. We went through a tunnel, and on the other side I saw barracks up and down the lefthand side of the street. I remembered them from the night before.... I knew we were going the same way as we did with our seabags. Finally we came to Ship Eight.
The Navy is committed to complete gender integration. With the exception of sleep and hygiene, the recruits would perform all daily activities together. Male recruits were assigned to Compartment D-01 on the second deck of Ship Eight, and shared the eighty-person compartment with the men of Division 006. The female recruits likewise shared an eighty-person compartment with their counterparts of 006, one floor above. The male compartment would be used as Division 005’s “house,” and when integrated, the division would work together in D-01. The female space topside, Compartment D-02, would serve as Division 006’s home port. Ten other divisions berthed in Ship Eight. The senior recruits lost no time in making their new shipmates feel right at home.
Freeman Right after we got to Ship Eight, a guy asked us if we had seen Chuckie. I told him I didn’t think we had anyone named Chuckie in our division. He laughed. I hope not, he said. He’s a ghost. He told me that back in the old days, there was lots of sickness on the base. There was this recruit named Chuckie, and he was supposed to go on watch. I don’t know if he was on the compartment watch or ship’s watch or quarterdeck or what. But anyway, this guy got all dressed up in the uniform of the day, with his guard belt and flashlight with the red lens and everything. And as he was going to stand his watch, he died of the sickness.
But the thing is, he still is trying to stand his watch. People say that they have seen him, late at night, dressed up in the old uniform with the leggings and jumper with no stripes. They say he is wearing a watch cap, and his eyes are bright red with the fever. If you see him, you’re not supposed to stop him, because he’s been trying to get to his watch all these years.
When he told me that, I was afraid to go into the head for a while, till someone else told me that was just a story they tell new recruits to shake them up. If my division ever finds that dude again, he’ll have red eyes and won’t make it to his watch for a while!
After evening chow, the RDCs made preliminary selection of recruit petty officers, who would assist with administrative tasks. Recruit petty officers derive their authority from the commanding officer, via the RDCs, and serve at their pleasure. Chief Zeller chose Seaman Recruit Michael Collins, of Amarillo, Texas, to be the first recruit petty officer in charge (RPOC), and Jennifer Jones of Claremont, California, as his primary assistant (AROC). As training progressed, others in turn would get an opportunity to lead the division.
Reveille sounded at 0400 the following day. Because the recruits had yet to be declared “fit for full duty” by the medical unit, no physical training was scheduled for the morning. After breakfast, the recruits returned to the in-processing area for the bane of all military recruits, their preliminary inoculations.
Upon arriving at the clinic, the recruits were again segregated by gender. Each recruit was questioned about possible allergies. Six single-file lines were formed, three for each gender. Each line passed through a gantlet of six medical corpsmen, three per side. Wearing protective clothing, including a plastic face mask, each corpsman stood adjacent to a table, with dozens of hypodermic needles and syringes neatly arrayed upon it.
Megan Wirsch, 19, Auburn, California
On shot day, after various kinds of poking and prodding, I got six shots in a twenty-second period. All I can say is ouch! The first five weren’t so bad, but the last one really burned. Some of us took it better than others. As for me, I was bleeding and I felt like I wanted to cry. It was just as if I had walked through a hazing and been beaten up. It was kind of scary, but the funny thing is that I wasn’t scared in line. But I really wanted to cry after I was through the line. Things were moving fast, but I’m not sure if it made things easier or harder. Luckily, though, I am positively allergic to penicillin, so when everyone else got a shot in the butt, all I had to do was wear a sign saying that I was allergic. But I’d take that any day over a shot in my caboose. Some of the males looked really pale and we females were sure some of them would pass out. But of course, all the guys had to act macho.
If the males were indeed “acting macho,” they were hiding their anxiety well.
Paul Parker, 18, Coffee Springs, Alabama
Getting those shots was an experience I’ll never forget. First of all, they put the division in lines often to fifteen people. Then they told us to remove our shirts and roll up the sleeves of our tee-shirts. We walked into a room, and each one of us gave them our Smart Card. They put your name into the computer to show that you had received your shots. We lined up in single file, with three corpsmen on each side. Each one of them gave one shot, three in each arm, for a total of six. We went into another room, males in one line and females in another. My arms were throbbing from those six shots. They took six males at a time, and six females, into separate rooms. They lined us all up in front of a stretcher and said, ‘Pull down your pants.’ All six guys pulled down our pants and bent over for the final shot. I was scared when they said, ‘Drop your pants,’ because I don’t remember ever having a shot in my butt before. So I was worried and had a good reason to be. That last shot hurt.
To help the recruits “digest” the inoculations, the division mustered on the north parade ground. It was time to learn how to march. Chief Zeller remarked later, “There’s not a whole lot of strenuous stuff you can do during P-days. They don’t get cleared for physical training until all the medical tests get read, usually on the morning of their 1-1 day [the first day of the first week of training]. This group got an extra couple P-days, while we waited for enough female recruits to arrive to fill up Division 006. We’d be competing against 006 as we went through training. So, from our perspective, it was great to get some extra drill time in, to get a leg up on our brother division. And, besides, it got their minds off their sore backsides.”
The recruits spent most mornings drilling on the grinder between Ships Nine and Ten or on the north parade ground near the front gate. Afternoons were spent in lectures on the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Navy core values, and orientation to the various morale and welfare programs provided by the chaplains. But, mostly, they marched. And marched. And then they marched some more.
Dayna Scorsone, 18, Fort Gibson, Oklahoma
I remember our first attempt at marching, when Petty Officer Russell picked us up from Building 1405. “Get three abreast and keep up” was all she said. We all scurried like lost mice to get where we thought we should be. After being yelled at and straightened up, we start marching to our compartment. Getting in step was, and still is, the hardest part. All of us have different length legs and trying to understand that 1 and 3 mean your left foot—we were stepping all over each other. I recall almost losing my shoe and saying “I’m sorry” every time I stepped on another recruit’s ankle. Even after a couple of days of marching everywhere we go, we would still get out of step for one reason or another. After the first few days, we learned how to sleep while marching! You could look around and see at least three recruits marching with their eyes closed. It’s pretty amazing. I think that marching involves a lot of discipline and self-control. Teamwork is also involved. The first thing is to step off on the left foot at the same time. Most of the females have shorter legs than the males, and with short legs we have to put forth more effort in keeping up with the division. At the back of the division, we are all suffering.
Lawanda Leitner, 34, Detroit, Michigan
It took awhile, but I finally came to terms with the fact that there are some people who just shouldn’t try to march. There is always someone walking up the back of
your heels. And there are days when the cadence changes all of a sudden, and you can hear all the feet shuffling to try to get back on the step. It helps when we have a cadence caller who can sing, or at least keep a beat. It was nice the first time Petty Officer Kent sang cadence for us. The whole division was marching on air the whole day because he finally sang with us. He had told us that he would never sing on the street until the division’s marching was solid. And when he began his cadence call, we repeated everything as loud and clear as we could, just so that he would keep singing with us. It made me feel good because it gives us a chance to show everyone that we do have it within ourselves to be a real team.
Arron Betton, 19, Los Angeles, California
Well, I never liked walking anywhere, if I could help it. I’m from L.A., and we drive where we need to go, you know? But if I’m getting paid to do it, I guess it’s okay. It reminds me of JROTC in a way. I know how to march and to do all the steps and things, so the marching isn’t really a problem for me. It took me awhile to get used to all the people we have in the division, though. I love it myself; it’s cool, so sweet when everyone does their part right. I can say that I’m glad that I took JROTC while I was in high school. It put me a little step up on a lot of people who have never marched before. When I’m marching with the division, it sets my attitude for the day in a way. If we’re all in step and doing the moves correctly, it puts me in a great mood. Because we’re all in uniform, looking good, and people look at us and say, ‘Man, those guys are good!’ But if we’re out of step, and people talking and being stupid, yelling at each other, then that ticks me off because if two people mess up, the rest of us get messed up, and we look like we don’t know what we are doing at all. That makes me feel dirty and low. We are supposed to be representing the Navy and then we look bad. So it can go both ways.
Honor, Courage, Commitment Page 5