BOOTCAMP: BEING PUT ON REPORT
My first week in Bootcamp (Bainbridge, Md., Feb. 1959) was not without incident: when we lined up in our civilian clothes and were taught to march, right over to Stores for uniforms, I couldn’t help smiling. Since my mother had moved us to snowless CA from snow-laden RI when I was 16, I was so excited – besides being homesick for RI. I was put on report for looking up at the falling snow and smiling while marching and losing step. My excuse was just too lame for the Company Commander to believe. Okay, I told myself, just live with it – the Navy was going to be tough.
A few days later, sitting in the chow hall, I happened to sit next to a recruit who had been in Bootcamp for four weeks: a seasoned veteran for sure. Anyway, she pointed to the Shell Oil sticky, twisted strips hanging from the rafters and she asked if I knew what they were. I told her that I did know – they were there to catch flies. Looking back on this, I might remember this experienced recruit smiling; however, she went on to tell me that they were made to look like that but they were actually dripping salt peter into our food. Not knowing what she was talking about and not wanting to admit naivite’, I asked her ‘why’: her response didn’t make any sense at all – she said it was to keep us WAVES from jumping over the food service line and attacking the cooks. I quickly looked at the huge, sweaty sailors who were dishing out the food and I wondered why that was a problem.
So, not wanting to ask other WAVES about salt peter and exposing my ignorance, I did the only thing I could think of – I called my mother and asked her. My mother made me repeat the question at least twice before asking WHY I wanted to know. I did exactly what I had been taught and I told the truth: it is dripping into our food from things hanging from the ceiling to keep us away from overweight sailors. My mother told me not to worry about it – it wasn’t going to hurt me.
About a day later, I was called in by our Company Commander and asked why I had called my mother telling her such an outrageous story: seems that my mother had called the base asking for an explanation. I admitted that someone, in another company, had told me that and because I didn’t want to ask anyone else, I called my mother and asked her. The Company Commander demanded to know who had told me that story; fortunately, I had no idea so, although I was put on report, again, the real culprit remained free.
The third time I was put on report was when, marching with the WAVE’S Drill Team, practicing for a parade in Washington, DC, my toe scuffed on the very buffed wood floor and I fell down. I was 5’9” at that time so it was quite a ways down and my knees hit the floor first – boy, did that hurt. But, being the good recruit I knew I was supposed to be, I stood up and got into formation again – in the front row since I was one of the tallest. After Drill Team, I was once again called in and given a scolding about being so clumsy – and put on report. Actually, the punishment for report #2 was that each day for a week I had to buff the floor we marched on – rather ironic, I think. (Actually, if anyone had been watching the first time I used the buffer, I would certainly have been reprimanded again: I wasn’t prepared for how large and heavy and powerful it was and it got away from me – running wildly until it hit a baseboard.)
I made it through Bootcamp without any more demerits and, believe it or not, all of my memories are wonderful.