Joined
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25,696 Posts
Whew, I do. I joined the US Navy in April 1956 in Raleigh, NC and the Navy flew me to San Diego, CA. The plane ride scared the crap out of me, since I had never been on an airplane. The Navy had a new program, whereby they would send a limited number of recruits to Calif. and the rest to Chicago, Il. I was one of the three from NC.
My first day at boot camp was something else. This mean talking Chief Petty Officer gave us the once over and laid the law down to us. We then were issued out Navy clothing and told to pack up our civies and send them home. Then we were marched to our barracks and the company would be housed on the second level. This Chief PO had us throw all of our clothing out of the upper level windows and then we were ordered down stairs. Then we marched over our clothing for an hour of so, then we had to pick out our clothing and wash every dang thing we threw out the window. We had a box of Tide, a brush and some tie ties. We scrubbed everything and hung then on a mast line, just like a ship, using our tie ties. Time flew by and it was close to 3 AM by this time and then we had to get up at 5 AM for a march to the chow hall.
I did not make it to the chow hall before this mean a$$ Chief PO pulled me from the rank and in front of everybody told me that I marched like a Tenn. plowboy. I corrected him and told him I was from North Carolina, oh sh-t, and he informed me that he knew where I was from and I stayed on his list untill the end of boot camp.
Screwed up again, which happened almost everyday and was assigned to guard the dumpster in our barracks area. I marched around that thing for four hours from 8 to 12 PM. The next morning before chow, the Chief called me out of line again, in front of the company and wanted to know if I had looked inside the dumpster to see if anything was missing while I was guarding it, I told him no sir and you know what hit the fan again. That night, I spent two hours in the dumpster (empty) and two hour outside the dumpster.
I was doing very good with everything except marching and calling a weapon a gun rather than a piece. I spent many a night sleeping with my piece laying on my fart sack (where they got the names for these different things, I don't know). I had very little beard back then and I would try to go three or four days without shaving, bull hockey on that outlook, ending up cleaning the head. Didn't get it clean enough for the Chief, so the next day and many more, I had to clean it with a toothbrush.
Toward the end of boot camp, we were practing on the tarmac for some big upcoming event and the Chief gets on me again about my marching and for whatever reason, I spoke back at him. Well, he takes my piece and hits me in the shins with it and oh sh=t, it hurt some kind of bad. He wasn't thru with me, he made me do a duck walk, with my piece behind me knees around the tarmac. From that day forward, I didn't speak to anyone with stripes, unless they ask me a question and the answer was Yes Sir and No Sir.
In the beginning, I told you that three of us from NC went to Calif., well, only one of us made it thru. One turned out to be a bed wetter (I believe he wanted to get out of Dodge) and the other one liked his mates too much.
After boot camp, it was smooth sailing. Would I do it again, heck no, but I would not take anything for the experience. GO NAVY
PS: the company collected money on the final day to give the Chief a present, everyone one contributed except one. Guess who
My first day at boot camp was something else. This mean talking Chief Petty Officer gave us the once over and laid the law down to us. We then were issued out Navy clothing and told to pack up our civies and send them home. Then we were marched to our barracks and the company would be housed on the second level. This Chief PO had us throw all of our clothing out of the upper level windows and then we were ordered down stairs. Then we marched over our clothing for an hour of so, then we had to pick out our clothing and wash every dang thing we threw out the window. We had a box of Tide, a brush and some tie ties. We scrubbed everything and hung then on a mast line, just like a ship, using our tie ties. Time flew by and it was close to 3 AM by this time and then we had to get up at 5 AM for a march to the chow hall.
I did not make it to the chow hall before this mean a$$ Chief PO pulled me from the rank and in front of everybody told me that I marched like a Tenn. plowboy. I corrected him and told him I was from North Carolina, oh sh-t, and he informed me that he knew where I was from and I stayed on his list untill the end of boot camp.
Screwed up again, which happened almost everyday and was assigned to guard the dumpster in our barracks area. I marched around that thing for four hours from 8 to 12 PM. The next morning before chow, the Chief called me out of line again, in front of the company and wanted to know if I had looked inside the dumpster to see if anything was missing while I was guarding it, I told him no sir and you know what hit the fan again. That night, I spent two hours in the dumpster (empty) and two hour outside the dumpster.
I was doing very good with everything except marching and calling a weapon a gun rather than a piece. I spent many a night sleeping with my piece laying on my fart sack (where they got the names for these different things, I don't know). I had very little beard back then and I would try to go three or four days without shaving, bull hockey on that outlook, ending up cleaning the head. Didn't get it clean enough for the Chief, so the next day and many more, I had to clean it with a toothbrush.
Toward the end of boot camp, we were practing on the tarmac for some big upcoming event and the Chief gets on me again about my marching and for whatever reason, I spoke back at him. Well, he takes my piece and hits me in the shins with it and oh sh=t, it hurt some kind of bad. He wasn't thru with me, he made me do a duck walk, with my piece behind me knees around the tarmac. From that day forward, I didn't speak to anyone with stripes, unless they ask me a question and the answer was Yes Sir and No Sir.
In the beginning, I told you that three of us from NC went to Calif., well, only one of us made it thru. One turned out to be a bed wetter (I believe he wanted to get out of Dodge) and the other one liked his mates too much.
After boot camp, it was smooth sailing. Would I do it again, heck no, but I would not take anything for the experience. GO NAVY
PS: the company collected money on the final day to give the Chief a present, everyone one contributed except one. Guess who