Misplacing military transfer orders
My 1st day of boot camp was on Halloween
1977. The next day was a HUGE reality check…with a hangover. The Navy recruits
were allowed to drink on the flight from Kansas City to San Diego but the
Marines on the same flight had to sit… at attention, while being “barked at” by
some drill Sargent. They glared at us every time we wobbled to the bathroom,
but never moved their heads. Right then, I knew I was glad I didn’t join the
few and the proud. Yet, your first day of boot camp is the day you go get all
your clothes and stuff. Everything they give you is stuffed into your sea-bag
and you are carrying it around all day. They probably could have let us
put it in the barracks before lunch but they have to mess with us since they
were pretty sure we all had hangovers.
Anyway, after doing exactly what I was told and never
getting in trouble in boot camp, I reported to my “A” and “C” schools for my
computer training, then a sweet 30 day temp duty thing called RAP duty
(Recruiter Assistance Program) in my home town. I got per-diem during this time
and I saw more money in those next two pay checks than I had ever made as a dishwasher
extraordinaire during my 3 years prior to enlisting. Then my orders said to
report to the USS Saratoga in Mayport, Florida. Funny thing, when we were in
our rating schools, we filled out these things called “Dream Sheets”. This is a
form where you put in 3 places you would like to be stationed next. I put
Alaska and 2 other places on the west coast, so the Navy sent me to the exact
opposite place. I made note of this. I always put the opposite of what I wanted
after that. Never did work out though.
So, when the Navy sends you to any briefing, it is in
your best interest to pay attention. I sat in my “transfer briefing” and they
must have told us about keeping our transfer orders on our person about a
hundred times. Seemed important. This manila folder had your orders, it had
your pay records, medical and shot records and such. This was way before there
were any “FILES” on any computer. So you had pretty much your career, what
little you had at the time, in that manila folder. OK, I get it. I will never
let go of it.
I flew into Jacksonville, Florida airport and at the
USO desk they said I needed to stand over yonder with the other 40 guys and wait
for the bus. I get on the bus and got ridiculed by some E-5’s that were having
fun with us E-1 boot camp newbies. Although in today’s world it would be
bullying I suppose. We did not have that 1-800-WHAA number back then. Just had
to suck it up. These guys were asking how many years you signed up for . Most
guys were doing 2, 3 or 4 and like a dummy I raised my hand when they asked who
signed up for more than 4 years. Mine was the only hand up.
I got off the bus at the Mayport Naval station in the late morning
and they divided us up within groups of duty stations and vans. A bunch of us
were going to the ships and others to administrative stations on base, etc. I
got into my van after throwing my sea-bag in the back with the others and
managed to get the front seat. The Chief driving the van was a duty Chief and
his job for the day was to drive us to our ships. Nobody liked having a 24 hour
“duty day”, but some duty jobs were easier than others. The Chief liked his
job, as he continued to ridicule us just like the guys on the bus had done.
Stuff like, “How long you in for …sucker?”
As we drove I could see the bay was like a huge “U” only
squared. The Chief would call out the ships names and if anyone answered he
would stop, they would grab their sea-bags and on we would go to the next ship.
There were many ships and they looked huge. Finally I was the last guy in the
van, so the Chief says, “I hope you are going to the Saratoga cause that is the
only one left.” Or something like that.
“Yes Sir.” I respond. Well, The Chief says, “Don’t call me
Sir, I work for a living. You call me Chief and you call the officers Sir.”
Alrighty then. You know I heard that a lot after that. So, we
pull around the corner and I see this monster of a ship. An Aircraft Carrier.
You can’t really get a feel for it until you see one in person. The Chief lets
me out and I go to the back of the van … my sea-bag is gone. What the? I tell
the Chief and he says to jump in and we will go back to ALL the ships to see
which idiot took the wrong one. They are probably standing around looking for
this van. We go back and there is no one looking around. So, the Chief says
that all I have to do is go up the after-brow and ask the watch guys if you can
search for it. He says to hurry up because he is heading to the Chiefs club for
(a liquid) lunch. Great, now I am rushed and I have to remember how you are
supposed to salute, who to salute and in what order when you board a ship. I
made sure I was behind a guy and watched him. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Monkey
see, monkey do. You walk up, then stop before setting foot on the ship and
salute the back of the ship which is flying the National Ensign (American
flag). Then you salute the quarterdeck OOD watch (Officer Of the Deck-not an
officer for the enlisted brow or gangplank or ladder, it’s called many things)
and ask permission to come aboard. He grants it to you and you show him your ID
card and you are granted permission to come aboard. I asked the OOD if any
sea-bags got left here by mistake and he says all the guys that just checked on
went to the other ship moored abreast this one. I did not know they did that,
but it seems the smaller ships could go at least 2 abreast. I go through the
same rigmarole and did find my sea-bag. I have to do the same process in
reverse getting off the ships of course. Back to the van with the waiting, if
not laughing Chief. He zips around to the Saratoga again and I grab my sea-bag
and he zooms off.
Finally… I am at my destination. I am dripping wet
because it is June in Florida and I am in my Navy whites hauling around this
heavy sea-bag. Up the gangplank I go and I make sure I have my manila folder
under my arm…Nooooooooooooo!
I left my manila folder with my transfer orders in it on the
dash of the van. I am freaking out. I know this is not going to have a happy
ending. But, the Chief said he was going to the Chief’s club for lunch. Good
thing I am a good listener. I started walking back to the area where we first
got off the bus. I would say it was a good mile, probably more, from where the
ship was moored to where all the base buildings were. I asked a few guys where
the Chief’s club was and got pointed in the right direction. I found the only
van with a manila folder on the dash and I sat by it. I didn’t know that an E-1
could actually go into a Chief’s club at this point. In about 35 minutes the
Chief comes out and starts laughing when he sees me. He takes me back to the
Saratoga and I grab everything I need and head up the ladder.
Midway up the “up” ladder, an E-5 starts hollering at
me from the “down” ladder. I freeze in my tracks. Ok, what did I do wrong?
He says, “Hey, are you a DP?” (He has seen my manila folder
and rating badge and DP means Data Processer)
“Yes Sir!” I said as I popped to attention and saluted.
“Wait right there, don’t salute me and don’t call me sir, I
work for a living.” He barks. (Told you I’d hear it a lot)
This shorter and a little older guy comes back up and meets
me in the middle of the gangplank, puffing away on a cig, with a few other guys
behind him. Hmm, will the hazing be starting now I wondered?
“So, you are a DP and I see your manila folder, which means
you are checking in, so I got just one question for you, and it’s important, so
be honest.” He orders me.
“Okay?” I said, quickly weighing all the ramifications of
the way he put that preamble.
“Do you smoke?”
“Um…not cigarettes.” I respond in a soft voice, a lean
forward and a wink of the eye.
“That’s the right answer!” He says and he pats me on the
back as I see smiles on all the other guys’ faces. “You will be on night shift
with us, I’m the shift supervisor, let’s go up and check you in.”
And that is when things started going good for me. If the
previous events had not happened, in the order they did, I may never have been
taken under DP2 Ski’s wings.
After checking in and finding a rack in the birthing area,
this bunch of guys took me out on the town in Jacksonville. I don’t remember
much. Two dollar bottles of Boons Farm apple wine, music, a van and barf, but I
really needed it after my ordeal.
I guess I should be glad I lost that manila folder
for a while there.
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