Stamp I was just relieved that it was over. Every part of my body was hurting.
Krofta I felt that I was finally done, that I was out of here, and all I had to do was pass-in-review and I’d be gone.
Johnson I was just thinking about my daughter, and making her proud of me. See, Gildersleeve had to keep motivating me all night because I’m older, I’m thirty-one, and I can’t be doing this stuff like these young dudes, but my man here kept me going, you know?
McClellan We had that big, muscular monster-guy as our facilitator, I don’t know his name [Petty Officer Scott Bowser]. When I first saw him, back in the compartment, he scared me, and when he took over as the facilitator for our team, it was, like, okay, I’m going to be back in the rack by midnight, I guess. But he was the coolest and nicest of the whole group, I think. He explained things, and told us the story of each of the events, and he was really, really cool. I went over and shook his hand after the ceremony. I want to go over and see him after pass-in-review if he’s around.
Johnson Yeah, I was getting scared, and when we got to that one event [Petty Officer Bowser] took me aside and said, “Johnson, you got two strikes on you, right? You go over there and be the victim this time.” And he probably saved me, because if I got three strikes, I’d have been out of there for sure.
Joseph Schau, 19, Smithfield, Virginia
I was thinking I finally got the cap, because I’ve been here a long time, and I was glad I could finally graduate and see my family.
Burger That song “Proud to be an American” always got to me, but this time it really got me going. And the national anthem too. I nearly started crying, but I didn’t want to look like one of the girls.
Adams Freeman was crying as soon as we got in there! Petty Officer Russell said, “What are you crying about? You ain’t even in there yet.” I never thought I’d make it through the night, but the minute that music started, I felt better than I ever had in my entire life.
Freeman I felt so relieved that it was over. I felt like I had accomplished something, I was so proud. And when I went into the room and saw the captain and Lieutenant McAvoy, and when they started playing the national anthem, and we started saluting. And seeing the RDCs that ran all night with us—like Senior Chief Nelson and he didn’t even have to be there, because he had gotten transferred—it was awesome.
The division returned to Compartment D-01 at 1130. Exhausted, most wanted to fall into their bunks and sleep—for at least a month. But this was still boot camp. Sleep could come later.
“This is a part of the training cycle that worries the command a lot,” remarked ETC(SW) Debbie Reilly, the highly experienced RDC who had watched the division pass by during their battle stations exercise. “For weeks, we’ve been pointing the recruits toward battle stations, and when they finally complete it, there is a natural tendency to slack off. Recruits start doing stupid things, and if they’re not careful, they can find themselves ASMOed so far back that they have to do it all over again. So we do lots of things differently during their last weeks here—for one thing, the RDCs sleep in the compartment with them for several nights during the period. We’ve had unfortunate incidents in the past, and we’re determined to do what we can to keep them from happening in the future.”
Chief Zeller and Petty Officer Kent were well aware of the dangers. “There’s not much really going on after battle stations,” remarked PR1 Kent. “There are a couple of important classes, but mostly it’s logistics, getting uniforms squared away, practicing for pass-in-review, and then weekend liberty. So we have to be innovative to keep the division on-spot and moving. The cap may say ‘Navy’ but they’re not out of here yet, and they need to remember that.”
Nevertheless, Kent and Zeller allowed the recruits to muster at forward IG under the guise of debriefing the events of the past twenty-four hours, and many of the recruits were able to nod off during the afternoon. Chief Zeller wisely sequestered himself in the division office, having first taken the prudent step of doubling the fore and aft watch, lest unannounced visitors interrupt the period of reflection. Reenergized, the division marched to evening chow, still inordinately proud of the Navy ball caps that distinguished them from the mass of recruits clogging Galley 928. Later, Chief Zeller granted early taps to the weary recruits, and lights were extinguished promptly at 2000.
Trindade I was dead. I was out on my feet. I have no idea what we had for chow that night. I’m not even sure we went to chow, to tell the truth.
Brunney I ached all over. My legs hurt, my back hurt, my arms really hurt. When we sat down at forward IG, I actually didn’t think I’d be able to get back up, I was that far gone. I usually fall asleep right when I hit the rack, but, that night, I think I was asleep even before I got into my bunk. I was zonked.
The recruits found the weekend relaxing.
Hopkins Basically, all we did was practice for pass-in-review on Saturday and also on Sunday afternoon. We spent most of the time in Drill Hall 1000, and we must have made the circuit inside that drill hall a hundred times. We’d start on our “spot,” listen for the beats of the bass drum, start off and march down the back row, turn, and march back up past the reviewing stand. Over and over.
Ward I kept telling him, just keep hanging lefts, man. It’s like NASCAR.
The recruits had a treat on Sunday evening. Petty Officer Kent had rented a few videotapes, and with a little jury-rigging, a video monitor, usually used for training broadcasts, was mated to a VCR cumshawed from the schoolhouse. The recruits spent the evening at forward IG, watching action-packed features. A visitor marveled at the sight of forty adolescent males and forty adolescent females, separated by a 6-foot fire lane patrolled by vigilant adults. It reminded him of eighth-grade dances in parochial school. But no matter—the recruits enjoyed the videotapes, one of which, in tribute to the Coast Guard, was the newly released film The Perfect Storm.
Banter among the recruits suggested that they could lick the Hooligans at their own game.
“I don’t know where recruits get the idea that the Coast Guard is easy duty,” Kent remarked later. “Especially since the closest any of these knuckleheads have gotten to water is when they flew in here over the top of Lake Michigan. They can’t even see the lake from here; it’s three miles away. So I had to explain to them that, while the Navy trains constantly for disaster and dangerous conditions, the Coast Guard works under those conditions, day and night. These kids ought to know that before one of them pops off in a bar somewhere, and gets a face full of fingers, don’t you think?”
By Monday morning, things had returned to normal. The recruits had a full week of morning classes scheduled, and afternoons would be consumed in drill practice or logistic tasks.
Master Chief McCalip explains: “There was a time when recruits might finish battle stations on a Tuesday, say, and graduate on Friday morning. But with conditions in the world the way they are, more and more emphasis has to be placed on terrorism, and how to keep safe, even when you are away from your ship. So the last week is spent mostly in working on those issues. The idea is that this is the last thing they hear in boot camp, so maybe they’ll retain it when they get out to the fleet.”
The week did start with good news, though. Shortly after completing PT, the division learned that its five members who had “struck out” during battle stations, as well as two additional members who had failed PT-2 the week previously, had passed battle stations with a “straggler group” on Sunday evening. They rejoined their shipmates after the traditional celebration brunch, and the entire division now sported the coveted Navy ball cap.
Hattrich I was really happy for them and for us. It would be awful for them to watch the division march out of the compartment for pass-in-review, and not be able to go along.
“I was worried about some of them,” Chief Zeller admitted later. “You really hate it when you work so hard to develop teamwork and a feeling of being shipmates, and then some don’t get to graduate with the rest of the
team. I was particularly concerned about one recruit. She had been with the division since the first day, but was just unable to get her speed up to pass the running portion of PT-2. By some miracle, she really bettered her time on Friday afternoon, so she was added at the last minute to the Sunday battle stations schedule. It took meetings with Senior Chief Tucker, and the intervention of Lieutenant McAvoy, but she wound up finally in the stragglers’ group.”
After noon chow, the division adjourned to the schoolhouse for the first of a series of lectures on terrorism, personal accountability, and life ashore, both at home and in foreign ports. These lectures would be different than most attended by the recruits so far.
Joshua Haight, 18, Omaha, Nebraska
Well, usually, some old chief or petty officer would get up in class, and start off with some lame joke—really lame jokes—to sort of warm up the class and get us in a good mood. That was usually the signal to look around and, if you were in the middle of the room and nobody could see you, close your eyes and get a nap for awhile. Not this time.
Silently, the instructor (who requested that his name not be used in this context) stepped to the podium and turned on the overhead projector. A wall-sized slide of the USS Cole filled the front of the room. The Cole, a Burke-class destroyer, had recently been attacked by terrorists, while on a routine refueling mission at Aden, in the Republic of Yemen. The instructor quietly progressed through a series of slides, each showing different facets of the damage caused to the port side of the ship. The usual dull roar of recruits moving about the classroom stopped, and all paid close attention as the veteran chief began.
“How many of you ever got into trouble for goofing off in grade school?” Several hands sheepishly went up. “And what happened? Got sent to the principal’s office, maybe?” They nodded. “And how many of you didn’t pay attention in high school?” A few more hands went up. “Flunked the course, maybe? And in college?” One or two hands went up. “Got kicked out, right?” “Well, listen up, sailors. If you don’t pay attention in my class, you are going to die.”
Ward Okay. That got my attention, right there. No nap for me—not in this class. Not today.
The instructor then read from, and commented on, RTC’s Terminal Objective (TO) 6.8: “Terrorism is an indiscriminate crime that comes in various forms of threats and violence and is used primarily to attain political goals. Terrorists generate fear through acts of violence, or try to intimidate and coerce. Acts such as the attack on the Cole occur routinely in certain parts of the world, making almost every sailor a potential victim. It’s frightening and the results, as the pictures show, can be horrifying. As the attack on Cole shows, these people have reached new levels of organization and sophistication. These acts are changing and they challenge the effectiveness of our current security measures. We must increase our level of awareness, because, believe me, it can happen anywhere. It can even happen right here in the United States.
“You and your families are important. You are a target, whether you like it or not. The terrorist may not know you or your wife or your baby. But he will strike at you just the same. Security against terrorism is the responsibility of every member of the armed forces. As a member of the military, you are the most valuable—yet most vulnerable—resource.
“What you will learn over the next few days will assist you in becoming less vulnerable to terrorists. You will not be immune, but you will be safer, if you follow some commonsense precautions. You can protect yourself and your family from terrorists—but only through constant awareness and self-discipline.
“Today, I am going to discuss three steps that every sailor and military family member must take, either overseas or functioning as a member of the armed services:
“You must keep a low profile. Your dress, conduct, and mannerisms should not attract attention. You must make an effort to blend into the local environment. Avoid publicity and don’t go out in large groups. And stay away from any civil disturbance and demonstration.
“You must be unpredictable. You must vary your routine to and from work and the times that you leave and return home. Don’t exercise at the same time and place each day, and never do it alone, or on deserted streets or country roads. Be sure your shipmates know where you are going, what you will be doing, and when you should be back. And if one of your shipmates is overdue, report that fact immediately. Don’t wait, and don’t worry about sounding a false alarm. Fifty false alarms—five hundred false alarms—are better than one alarm that doesn’t get sounded when it should.
“Lastly, you must stay constantly alert. Watch for anything out of place. Don’t ever give personal information over the telephone. If you think you are being followed, go to a preselected secure area. Make sure you report anything that looks the least suspicious. Let the security personnel sort it all out. Your job is to be the eyes and ears of your command. If it makes you uncomfortable, let someone know, and do it immediately.”
Assisted by other instructors, he then gave detailed, specific instructions to the recruits regarding threat conditions, and security measures implemented fleetwide. It is imprudent to record specifics here, but the recruits paid rapt attention to the instructors—none took the traditional walk-to-the-rear-of-the-classroom, the usual defense against sleepiness.
Broders You know, I’m sitting there, and it’s like, what is today? December 4 or something? And I’m out of here in like, a week, and then I have two weeks of seaman apprentice school, and, like, oh shoot, man, I can be on a ship before the end of the month, right? That could be me this guy is talking about, you know?
After returning from a short break, one of the recruits from Division 006 raised his hand and asked about the USS Cole. “We know they were bombed and all, but what really happened, Chief? We don’t get to read the newspapers or listen to the radio much in here.”
“I’ll tell you what I know,” the instructor replied. “On 12 October, at about noon their time, Cole was tying up to a fuel dolphin at Aden in the Republic of Yemen. The ship was at Security Condition Charlie, as it should have been. There were armed men topside, and the fueling was about to begin. One of the small boats—there’s some controversy as to whether it was one of the line handlers, or one that didn’t belong there—came along the port side, right about amidships, and set off an explosion that blew a hole 40 feet by 40 feet in the portside hull. It was right at the waterline, and adjacent to engineering spaces. One deck above, a messing area ran athwartship, across the entire width of the vessel. The force of the explosion—you can see it from the slides we had up here earlier—tore machinery lose, and dropped part of the messing space down into the engine room, and the engine room down into the bilge. Within seconds, seventeen sailors were dead, and many more injured. If you’ll recall, as soon as we got word of the explosion, Captain Gantt set Security Condition Bravo here, and armed guards went up all around our base till we got a better handle on what was happening. You may not realize it, sailors, but you’ve targets here, just as much as if you were out on the Cole, or any other ship that might come under attack.”
The recruits nodded. They recalled how they had been called together, shortly after chow on 12 October, the day before their division was placed into commission, and told of the attack on USS Cole. Later, Petty Officer Russell recounted the story. “Well, Dan [Kent] had the division all morning, and I was scheduled to go in at 1300. About noon, I turned on the news, and heard about the attack. I called Chief Zeller, and told him to turn on his TV. I recognized the pictures they were showing as a Burke-class destroyer, and Chief Zeller had just come from three years on the Arleigh Burke itself. So, from looking at the pictures on CNN, and from his knowledge of how the ship was laid out, and my knowledge as a damage control specialist, we pretty much had an idea of what was happening and how bad it was. And it was really, really bad.”
The recruits remember their reaction when Petty Officer Russell broke the news.
Caldeira When we heard, we were all hurt. They we
re kids, most of them our age, right from here. It really shocked us when Petty Officer Russell told us. She was real beat up by it, and it takes a lot to get her beat up. But they were sailors, and we’re all sailors, you know? We’re like a team; we’re all family. It made everyone quiet for the rest of that day, just staring around in space, thinking what happened, people that young.
Paes Most of the people in the division were really terrified. We were so unhappy that that happened. When I heard that, it nearly broke my heart. I feel it heavy in my heart, and I don’t know why, but I think it’s because we are all the same. I mean, right here on my shirt, it says “U.S. Navy,” you know? And I was always asking Pierce and the others what had happened, if there was any more information about it, or what. I just wish that whoever did that would get caught. I think we got a lot more serious about things. I know that I put a lot more attention to what I had to do.
Scorsone When I heard about it, my eyes got teary, and I realized that I have to make the best of every day, and I never know when I’ll be starting the last day of my life. Everything is a risk, but every day in the Navy is more of a risk.
Hooton-Hetrick When we heard about the Cole, I got a real lump in my throat. I was totally saddened by that. I think everybody was shocked that it happened, and that some of the people on board were just as young as we are, and they had just gotten out of boot camp within the last six months. Some people came into the Navy for college money, or to get away from home, but it’s not fun and games and you can die, you might die, trying to save your ship-mates, or whatever. It’s scary.
Volk I was really surprised. It felt like there was going to be a war. We all sat down and prayed that night. I never saw the serious side of anybody until that night. Everybody was saying, what if it had been us? One girl in our division, she got really emotional about it, because her dad is over there somewhere close by.* She was really upset, and all of us chipped in and talked to her, and held her hand, and tried to help her.
Honor, Courage, Commitment Page 22