Command Master Chief McCalip I think things are changing. Everyone in this command is aware of the school problem, but, in the last couple years we’ve gotten much more involved with the schools. The flag officers, other officers, senior enlisted, every level. We even have a liaison team of military parents who work with the school board. They know that we’re paying attention to the problem, and in the two years that I’ve been here I’ve seen huge changes.
Chief Lucas You want to know what the schools are really like? Okay, go find out where the senior officers are sending their kids. Gurnee, Lake Forest, wherever; it’s sure not North Chicago. Then check and see how many home-school parents we have among the enlisted. I bet there are a hundred, at least. My wife home-schools our kids. Check out the number of guys that live up in Wisconsin—up above Kenosha, some of them. These are RDCs that get up at 0200 to make 0400 reveille here. It’s nothing but the schools.
Petty Officer Kent Between that and the base layout, it takes a lot out of you, for sure. I can tell you how bad it is. I did a push out of Ship Thirteen, down at the south end. In that first few weeks when you are going back and forth through the tunnel all the time, it’s murder. When those kids first get their seabags, its like the Bataan death march, it’s that bad. When you are centrally located, like at Ship Eight, it’s not so bad. But from Ship Thirteen to the Fire Fighting Training Unit? A good thirty-minute march. Unfortunately, your schedule will read the same as a guy’s in Ship Two, so you had better walk faster, leave earlier, and if you try to follow the schedule, you’ll never make it. So you’re always thinking, “How can I save time, or how can I cut a corner to stay on schedule?” when you’re at the ends of the base.
Senior Chief Atkinson It’s fun in the summer. But in the winter it’s bad. Marching is one of the things that RDCs enjoy the most. But in the winter it is atrocious. Ice, snow, people slipping, potholes, you name it. March from swim call back to Galley 1128 in the wintertime—how many sick recruits will you get out of that?
Senior Chief Nelson In the winter, it does get bad. If you march recruits from one end to the other, it’s hard. Here’s something that nobody else told you, I bet. You get out there in the traffic pattern, the first thing you look at is the guidons of other divisions heading your way. If you get behind a division that just got here, and hasn’t learned to march, it’s like being behind a truck on the Dan Ryan Expressway. It really slows you down.
Senior Chief Atkinson Well, if they were only going to keep one, it should have been San Diego or Orlando. All our bases are on the coasts, the weather is better. It’s all politics. I think they ought to put things right next to the fleet. We get days here, like right now, when the weather keeps us from doing much of anything.
Senior Chief Tucker Having the base here is just dumb. You have guys who won’t come here, good guys who would really make fantastic RDCs—because they are settled on one or the other coast, and why come here for just three years? You know you’ll have to move back to one of the fleet homeports when you are done. But, more than that, we need to have these young people around the military, they need to see sailors just going about their business, day after day. This place is artificial, all they see are those jobs that are necessary to run this training center, and they never see a machinist mate working on a ship’s engine, or a storekeeper running a forklift, or anything like that.
Command Master Chief McCalip Great Lakes was the wrong decision. I would have kept San Diego, and I would have built a new boot camp right next to Norfolk. We’d be in fleet concentration areas, and sailors will stay in the Navy if you can keep them in the same place. Families get 51 percent of the vote about staying in—and if you keep them in one place and not move them unnecessarily, we’d be lots better off.
Petty Officer Kent At surge, when the June high school graduates all hit, things are bad. It’s worst at the galleys. You can get to the galley, and have six or seven divisions ahead of you. If you have an event you have to get to, and it’s all the other way across base, you are in a world of hurt. What do you do? You can’t buck the line, the other guy has the same problem, and you can’t be late for the event, because there are two or three divisions coming over after you. So what do you do? It’s eat up and get out, folks. Dinner becomes five minutes. The other problem is putting ninety-four people in a compartment. When you have racks down the middle, you can’t see what’s going on in the back. The kids back there get away with murder.
Petty Officer Russell The last division we had was a ninety-four. The grinders were so bad you couldn’t get them out of the way to get into class. And the chow lines were bad. Everywhere there were lines. And it tears up the barracks. I’m the ship’s building maintenance and supply petty officer, in addition to pushing a division. The wear and tear is bad when we have twelve eighty-person divisions in the building. With twelve ninety-fours . . . [Shaking her head.]
Chief Lucas And lots of the stuff that we need, we have to buy ourselves. The Navy doesn’t issue irons to press uniforms, so the first thing we do when a new division arrives is pass the hat and buy enough for the division. At the end, when they graduate, we put all the dogtags into a hat, and the winners get the irons, and spare cleaning gear, and whatever else we bought. Our cleaning supplies—the soap and polish and everything—is so watered down to meet HazMat requirements, that it’s just better for us to run over to the commissary and buy our own supplies. Every RDC here has a load of stuff in the back of his car. Any one of us could open up a janitor’s service, with what we carry around in the trunk.
Command Master Chief McCalip But, you know what? There are over seven hundred recruit division commanders on this base. And I bet you every single one of them would do it all over again. Fifteen of them will march into that pass-in-review tomorrow. And they wouldn’t trade that moment for anything.
17
Bravo Zulu, Young Sailors-Well Done!
Reveille sounded early on graduation day. Chief Zeller hit the lights at 0330, but for once no one felt like dawdling in their racks. After early chow, they returned to their compartment for showers and, for the female recruits, that long awaited moment when they could wear makeup again. All three RDCs worked with the recruits, ensuring that each uniform fit perfectly and—with judicious use of tape, pins, and (in at least one case) staples—perfecting the work of the contract tailors who had last altered the uniforms.
Petty Officer Russell explains: “Recruits—mostly female recruits—are constantly complaining about how their uniforms don’t fit. They really bad-mouth the tailors. But what they don’t realize is that they aren’t the same people who took the uniforms over to the tailor shop during their fourth week here—they’ve lost twenty pounds, or moved it around or whatever. So how can they expect the uniform to fit perfectly the first time they get into it? Any RDC who has been here awhile brings a sewing kit on pass-in-review day.”
After a last-minute inspection, the division left the compartment at 0750. The holding area, because of the inclement weather, had moved to Drill Hall 800.
Hopkins I figured, typical boot camp. There’s snow all over the ground, it’s freezing cold, we’re going to Drill Hall 1200, which is way north of our ship, and the first thing they do is send us south, to Drill Hall 800. The guys on the front are yelling to me, “You’re going the wrong way, Hump,” but that’s where Chief told me to go, so that’s where we went.
While the recruits were mustering at Drill Hall 800, twelve hundred visitors had arrived and checked in at MCPON Hall. Because of the snow, and the danger of accidents, Senior Chief Atkinson held the visitors there until just before 0900. A cadre of Service Week recruits then escorted the visitors to Drill Hall 1200. They were entertained by the Great Lakes Navy Band, founded in 1917 by LCDR John Philip Sousa. Conducted today by MU2* Alan Miller, the band played traditional holiday tunes and then broke into a rousing military cadence, echoing that of the recruit band leading the 412 graduating recruits through the double doors at the south end of the
cavernous drill hall.
McClellan We could hear them cheering as the other divisions went in before us, and as we hit the door, we could hear the applause and cheers coming from our left. I tried to look around and see where everyone was sitting, but, being next to last, we only had a real short time before we stopped and dressed to attention. It seemed like the people that were there for our division were off to our left slightly, though.
Wirsch I wanted to see my little brother Matthew so bad! After we dressed right, and came to parade rest, I was looking around a little to see if I could spot him. When the chaplain gave the invocation, I could hear a baby crying, but it didn’t seem to be him. But I just knew, somehow, that everyone had made it okay, and that they were in that crowd somewhere.
Hopkins Well, my dad uses a wheelchair, so I spotted him right away. They had the disabled guests up on the front row. I couldn’t see anyone else, but I knew if he was there, then everyone else was, too. I just wanted to get my drill commands right, so that I’d make him proud.
The command takes great pride in the recruit graduation ceremonies. Every element of Navy protocol is on display during the ninety-minute pass-in-review. A formal quarterdeck is permanently established at the far north end of the fifty-year-old drill hall. Sideboys manned the rail, as six bells, followed by ruffles and flourishes, signaled the arrival of Rear Adm. David Polatty, commander, Naval Training Center. Four bells and bosun’s pipes marked the arrival of Captain Gantt, accompanied by Capt. David O’Brien, the day’s reviewing officer. In honor of the fifty-ninth anniversary of Pearl Harbor Day, two guests of honor, both Pearl Harbor survivors, joined the entourage as they moved toward the reviewing stand. Joseph Triolo, BMC, USN (Ret.), and Ambrose Ferri, PNC, USN (Ret.), would take the recruits’ salute today.
The recruits stood at attention, heads bowed, as the base chaplain invoked divine blessing on them and their families. They stood at parade rest as the recruit performance division—their battle stations comrades from Division 902—sang, marched, and drilled for the assembled guests. Captain O’Brien rose to speak.
Rasco Oh, man, I was feeling bad, standing there at parade rest. The FQA inspector behind us kept coming up to me and telling me to unlock my legs, or I’d pass out. I must have looked white as a sheet. I know I was sweating and feeling pretty bad, but I kept my military bearing throughout it.
Leonard It must be the big moment for the guy that gets to speak. He thanks everybody that’s there—the admiral, the captain, the whatever—and finally gets around to talking to us. Meanwhile, we’ve been in that hot drill hall, surrounded by smelly shipmates [laughter] in those hot uniforms for, like, forever. I’m thinking, why doesn’t he just get on with it?
Captain O’Brien was mercifully brief. After a quick weather report from San Diego, where he commanded both Naval Air Station North Island and Naval Base Coronado, he spoke of his own memories as an aviation officer candidate years ago. “Wherever you go, and whatever you do,” he said, “you’ll always remember your recruit division commander. And even when you leave the Navy, after four years or forty years, you’ll mark significant anniversaries and events by where you were serving, and who your shipmates were, when they occurred.” He ended with the traditional Navy word of praise: “Bravo Zulu for a job well done.”
Commander Mary Kolar, who had relieved Captain Tubbs as executive officer, took the podium and identified recruits worthy of special accolade. Two were from Division 005, the only division to have more than a single honoree. Seaman Eric Hopkins, the recruit chief petty officer, received the Retired Officers Association Leadership Award as the outstanding RPOC in the graduation group. The irrepressible Jared Ward, whose sardonic optimism had so enlivened and encouraged the division, received the Navy League Award for exhibiting those characteristics best summed up by the word “shipmate.” The division’s four operational flags: athletic, academic, drill, and STAR (for compartment readiness) dipped in honor of these two outstanding recruits.
The band struck up “Anchors Aweigh,” and the crowd rose, cheering. The divisions kicked off, and marched the length of the drill hall, turned, and marched before the west side bleachers. As Division 005 passed the reviewing stand, an entire section of the bleachers broke into sustained and enthusiastic cheers. Division 005, eighty-one young men and women, from cities large and small, in thirty states, was going to the fleet.
Pandemonium erupted as liberty call was announced, and parents and other family members rushed onto the drill deck to seize, hug, and kiss their recruits. An old sailor, standing in the shadows, served as a willing surrogate for several members of Division 005 whose families had been delayed by the winter storm. It was the least he could do.
Afterward, the recruits and their families spoke of the past few months.
Captain Frank Moll, USN (Ret.), is SR James Troeger’s grandfather. A World War II veteran, he stayed on active service through the 1960s. “I was very happy when James decided to join the Navy, but apprehensive. I’m still apprehensive. Even the best-laid plans can go wrong.”
Ms. Susan Markley is James Troeger’s mother. “Well, we had heard from him only once the day he got to Great Lakes, and then it was several weeks till his first letters arrived. And we were so worried—what are they doing to him up there? And then, when they marched in, we weren’t able to spot him in the crowd.”
Melissa Burns is Troeger’s fiancée. “I was trying to use the viewfinder of my camcorder to spot him, but I couldn’t see him in the crowd. We were seated off to his left, so we really didn’t have a good angle to see him when they first marched in.”
Troeger I saw my grandparents as soon as we walked into the drill hall, but I didn’t see anybody else. I kept moving my head during formation, figuring everybody would be together, but I couldn’t see them from where I was standing.
Melissa Burns It’s funny, but the first thing I noticed is how much hair he has now! [Laughter.] His head was shaved before he went to boot camp, so it looks really different now.
Captain Moll I noticed a substantial change in his bearing. Much more confident, and a real change in the person from two and a half months before.
Melissa Burns He looks good in his new uniforms, that’s for sure!
Some recruits had practical things in mind as soon as liberty call was announced, while others were more philosophical.
Hopkins The first thing I want when I get off base is a hot shower, and a big steak. In fact, I want the steak so much that I thought of eating it in the shower.
Buki It’s like a burden is off my shoulders, finally. It’s gone by really fast, but now I’m going to miss a lot of the people that were here. For a while, I wanted to wring their necks, but now I’m happy that we stuck together and everything.
Rasco I’m scared. We’re getting ready to go out to the fleet, and start another whole part of this career, you know? Boot camp was hard, and I’m excited about leaving, don’t get me wrong. But we don’t know what’s going to happen to us. I have a two-week school, and then I’m out to an aircraft carrier or a squadron or whatever. Like, I know I’ll have two weeks of Airman Apprentice School at Pensacola, and then I have no idea where we’ll go.
Wirsch I have six months of school, to be an electrician’s mate, but still, I don’t know what that is going to be like or what is going to happen afterwards, like Rasco says.
Rasco I’ll miss everyone. We’ll probably never see each other again, you know?
Wirsch I thought boot camp was going to be a lot harder than this, though. When we were doing battle stations, or when we were doing PT, it was, like, okay, okay, it hurts already, stop it. But the rest of the time, it wasn’t all that bad, really.
Freeman Except for the sleep. I don’t care where I go next, for the first two weeks there, I’m going to sack out. Y’all come wake me if something happens, okay? [Laughter.]
Wirsch I’m scared that the same thing that happened to the Cole will happen to whatever ship I’m on. We hear all the time, t
he world is just waiting for us out there, and it could happen anytime.
Freeman I know that going to war is what the Navy is there for. My dad is an ex-Marine, so I knew that coming in.
Rasco Yeah, but you think about that stuff, and then you don’t, really. You don’t think about death all the time. You don’t think your cousin is going to get killed in a car wreck or anything bad is going to happen. It just does.
Freeman I think being on the ship is going to be fun. It’s going to be hard work, sure, but it’s going to be first you work, and then you play. But I’m going to experience so many things that I’d never experience back in Dequincy [Louisiana] or if I stayed in college just to play softball.
Buki The best memories that I’ll take out of here will be the weird things that happened to us. Like, when we are on watch at night in the female compartment, there’s always someone who sits up at attention, right in her sleep, and it’s so funny. I know we got cycled the other day, and we had to do lots of arm circles, and I woke up in my sleep and my arms were going around and around. [Laughter.]
Freeman Well, the best memories I’ll have are Wirsch singing in the shower! [Laughter.] When I first got here, and we had eighty females, trying to shower in three minutes, I was so nervous, I didn’t know what I was going to do. And then Wirsch thinks she’s Madonna, it helped me chill out. And I’m going to miss those little things like how we all say good night to each other at lights out, and always having someone to lean on.
Honor, Courage, Commitment Page 25