The Navy: it’s not just a job, it’s an adventure, as the advertising went. In truth it’s a job and so much more. How does one fit the “so much more” into a post about jobs? How does one choose to take on such an adventure?
It was the fall of 1987. I was a recent high school graduate working part-time at the local hardware store. Most of my friends went off to college, beginning adventures of their own. The thought of college didn’t excite me – the thought of becoming a future cube dweller didn’t excite me – and I put zero effort into applying. Still, I knew I was missing out on something and I wondered where I would find my adventure. I felt very alone at that point in my life.
My parents prodded me to enroll at the local community college but I wasn’t thrilled at that prospect, either. They then suggested the military, and without many other adventurous opportunities it began to sound appealing. My brother Allen had joined the Army earlier and seemed to be liking it. Why not look at the Navy?
It wasn’t just the fact that my brother was in the Army that made me consider the Navy, it was the varied experience the Navy offers. What other military branch does the depth of things the Navy does? There are ships, submarines, helicopters, planes, Seabees, SEALS, and many others. I’ve always loved the sea and felt at home on the museum ships I’d toured. From a practical perspective, yes I might get sent into harm’s way, but at least I’d be taking my bed, air-conditioning, and decent food with me. Six months at sea? Sure, it’s a long time but I was single with no kids. Nor was I in a hurry for a long-term relationship. The Navy sounded like something I could do. And hey, didn’t Top Gun just come out?
I called up a Navy recruiter by the name of Chief Norman Larson, a surface-warfare qualified gunner’s mate. I inquired about opportunities and asked about the education aspect of things, which Chief Larson happily answered. Then I politely said goodbye and hung up.
Only one does not easily end a conversation with a military recruiter! Not a good one, anyway. Chief Larson called me about once a week afterward, trying to talk me into visiting his office and taking the ASVAB test. I finally acquiesced and drove one afternoon to the Navy recruiting office tucked inside a Leesburg strip mall.
Chief Larson was a good salesman for the Navy. He answered my questions truthfully and shared some of his sea stories. He didn’t pressure me, but then again he didn’t need to. The tales of far-off places captured my imagination. It seemed the perfect antidote to suburbia. I soon agreed to take the ASVAB.
Taking the ASVAB involved a trip to Baltimore. I drove to the recruiting office where I met other recruits who would also be taking the test. An Air Force recruiter drove us all in a military van to the Baltimore MEPS station for our test. On our way home the Air Force sargent bought us beer at a convenience store, though I didn’t drink any. We were all underage and I thought it didn’t show much respect for the law. I was so square (though my sense of righteousness never stopped me from drinking at other times).
As for the test itself, I had already taken the SAT multiple times and the ASVAB proved no challenge to me. My test results showed I was among the smartest of recruits. Chief Larson suggested I consider nuclear power school. I thought that sounded like an exciting field – certainly not one for dummies. After a few weeks more of deliberation, I signed the enlistment papers, with entry into the Navy set for February 1988. I had set my course.
Only as the day drew closer I questioned my choice of nuke school. I wasn’t sold on the idea of serving on a submarine. All I’d known of submarines came from movies about World War II. I didn’t realize how much they’d changed. Knowing what I know now I would’ve loved sub duty but at the time I was a naive kid. I called Chief Larson and asked for a way out.
Being a recruiter means never taking no for answer, and Chief Larson was true to his profession. He agreed to change my specialty to something other than nuke school, something brainy but not involving submarines. I looked over the various specialities and found the job of cryptologic technician appealing. It was mysterious: even Chief Larson didn’t know the responsibilities of a crypto tech. It was something other than sub duty, though, and had a high bar for acceptance. I had my papers changed to become a Cryptologic Technician, Collection, and charted a new course.
The days ticked down. I said goodbye to my friends (and my girlfriend at the time) and prepared for the unknown. My parents drove me to the Baltimore MEPS station and dropped me off the night before. I didn’t know what to expect but I was on my way. I hopped out of the car and checked in with the man at the desk.
I don’t remember much about the MEPS process that night. It was a lot of waiting: the perfect introduction to military life. There were forms to fill out, and bad TV in the waiting rooms. They put us up in a local low-rent hotel. My roommate for the night was a small African-American kid of undetermined sexuality by the name of Bernard (“it’s ‘BUH-nard,'” he would always correct). He spent most of the night out partying while I tried to get sleep.
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The next day began very early and included more paperwork, physical exams, and interviews. And waiting, lots of waiting. I do remember raising my right hand in the oath of enlistment ceremony, however. That was the first time I’d taken the oath. I’d find out later that it wouldn’t be the last.
After the folks at MEPS had done all they could do to me, they put me on a bus for a short trip over to the neighboring BWI airport, where I boarded a Delta flight to Orlando. Arriving after nightfall, I stepped off the plane to see a large crowd of recruits at one corner of the airport. After some checking around I found my group and headed out from the airport to Recruit Training Command Orlando: my new home for the next eight weeks. I did some minimal checking in before being assigned a bunk in a room full of snoring fellow would-be sailors. I slept fitfully, not only because there were only four hours until reveille but also because I couldn’t quite believe I was actually there, that my adventure had begun.
It had been a long day. Little did I know my long days were only beginning.