Joining the US Navy in the 90s, part 4 "These balls, so blue..."

Previously in part 3

Sometimes we needed to go somewhere on base alone, usually for a medical appointment. Which ever way we took to get there was fine, but we had to run. Failure to do so would result in a stroke chit. It was usually issued on the spot, right there on the sidewalk by some random company commander who happened to cross your path. If you had the dubious pleasure of receiving one of these, you had to present it to your company commander back at your ship who would then order you to go to IT in the wee hours of the morning. IT was short for intensive training. For repeat offenders there was another version of IT that involved running while holding heavy rifles over your head, but I never heard of anyone going there. Not sure if it was an RTC urban legend or something.

Sundays tended to be a relaxed affair. We had all manner of chores of course, but we didn't have to go anywhere. Many went to the Recruit Memorial Chapel. That was the damndest thing I ever saw. No matter what your condition was, there was a service for you. I randomly walked into a Church of the Latter Day Saints service. I was received by two women in long skirts. I was the only one in attendance. Because of boot camp and how forgiving it made you in regards to looks, these two ladies seemed hot to me and when they smiled I felt a slight twitch in my nutsack. I made a mental note about that as I sat down with them for a half hour or so and talked about mormons. I wasn't very religious or interested for that matter but it was nice to talk to these bundled up lady bugs. We even sang a hymn or two together. When we finished they gave me a cinnamon roll and it was just the sweetest thing.

After a couple of weeks many of us got defcon one blue balls. Some of us even volunteered this information, others quietly suffered like dogs. One time when we were waiting around in the drill hall, there was a female recruit there who had some kind of office duty. I'm not sure. My brain could have manufactured some cliche porn plot. What I do remember clearly was her dungaree pants and the ass that dwelled within. The pants had no doubt been measured for her, but it seemed like her ass was an entity with a life of its own, independent of her, expanding and pushing the fabric of her pants like some giant delicious pulsating fuck pudding. Several of us guys were in the room talking to her, circling her like vultures wanting to pluck that ass clean off. I double timed it to the head and threw up.

A couple of weeks earlier that kind of situation would have been easily resolved, but in boot camp it was practically impossible to take care of business because we had zero privacy. When we went to the head, we went en masse. There were no doors in the stalls, so whenever you had to take a shit you had another recruit directly in front of you and a line forming behind him. Consequently I also had to stand in front of a shipmate as he made a deposit while waiting for my turn. After a while you got used to it. Point is, while it was cool to take a shit in front of everyone, it was not cool to stroke your shit in front of everyone. The only way to find relief was if you had the midwatch. If you knew what was good for you, you let the midwatch decide how to run his shift.

Part of basic training consisted of a week's worth of galley duty. The mess specialists prepared all the food, but the chopping, peeling and cleaning was done by recruits. It was an undesirable part of the training, but it had to be done. One might luck out and receive grounds duty instead and this is just what happened in the case of my division. It was a sweet week for us. We spent most of the time sweeping and picking up trash. We would break up into smaller groups to cover more areas, not just on our side of the base but the other side as well which normally was off ­limits to us. We especially liked the other side, SSC, because it wasn't part of recruit training command, so nobody gave two shits about what we were up to or how much military bearing we exhibited per ten feet. We dispensed with military protocol entirely and ate junk food and walked out of formation, behaved like boys really. We'd wrap up our work day at the groundskeepers' building and relax for the rest of the day. At the end of it, business as usual resumed.

One thing that was anticlimactic was that we were denied the two most prized training modules, shooting guns and going to the gas chamber. I had never fired a gun in my life and I was looking forward to finally getting around to doing it. Turns out that for a couple of minutes, each of us got to shoot an M16 with some kind of customized ammunition that left a hole the size of a thumb tack in a paper target. I couldn't verify for myself, but my shipmate managed to hit his and showed me. When we went to gas chamber it had experienced some kind of malfunction earlier in the day and we had to reschedule, but it never happened. We did however get to do some drills aboard the USS Marlinspike and of course, we got to go swimming. Loads of people in the division didn't know how to swim. I wasn't the best swimmer either, still am not. But I was pretty decent at not drowning.

Just about every day we would rehearse a marching routine in anticipation of our pass-­in­-review. This was to be performed at our graduation ceremony and was the final part of recruit training. It was a precision exercise and very difficult to teach to an entire division. The company commanders were heavily invested in this because it would show in a very real way how well they had done with training us. They weren't about to let us trip each other up and make them look like fools in front of the brass. This was my least favorite part of the training. We did a good job though and we were ready. Eventually basic training came to an end, culminating in pass­-in­-review. My parents and my sister flew up to see me graduate. I was deliriously happy when I got to meet them in the reception area. I felt very proud and they were proud too no doubt. Their boy had finished something he started. Holy shit. They marvelled at my physical transformation. I was a picture of health. After the pass­-in-­review ceremony, the company commanders got to meet my parents and they referred to me as their project to the amusement of many. I didn't mind.

After the ceremony we were cut loose. I had a great time with my family. We toured Chicago, explored the Great Lakes area and even took a road trip up to Milwaukee and deep into the Wisconsin boondocks. When liberty weekend was all over, it was time to move on to the next phase of training.

Continue to part 5