Navy Chuck's

When I was 19 I joined the United States Navy. It was one of those decisions that everybody I knew tried to talk me out of but in the end, I signed on the dotted line. It was chilly in November when I left for Great Lakes Naval Base and my feet were getting cold through the canvas in my Chuck Taylor's. The Chuck’s I wore that day were one of my proudest pairs of shoes. They were deeply worn in, like a La-Z-Boy that has only cradled one ass.

I was dropped off at the O’Hare Airport in Chicago where I would sit in the USO office until a bus would come and take me to my impending doom of bootcamp. I sat in the USO office for hours as more and more recruits waiting to be a part of the U.S. Navy flooded in. I was getting bored and annoyed with all this waiting but when I closed my eyes for a quick nap, the door to the room flung open and hit the wall with a loud bang. I awoke up from my nap like someone had dropped me from the roof a building during my sleep. A voice screamed for two rows, guys on the right and girls on the left- over and over the voice yelled this- I was scared, I was nervous, I regretted signing my name on the dotted line, and no one in this room was going to care.

It is amazing how fear can control a person. As we walked from this crowed room through the airport being yelled at by two men in a black United States Navy uniforms with a red rope hung over their shoulders I wondered why anyone would listen to them. We outnumbered them almost 50 to one, yet we did as we were told. Single file lines all the way to the buses parked out front and I did not dare stray from the lines or exchange my sight for the view I had of the back of the head of the young man in front of me. I knew we were going to Great Lakes Naval Base, but what waited for me there I did not know, and when I would leave I knew would be in two months and if things continue as they have so far, it would be two months of hell.

The bus ride was short and quiet, creepy quiet, like when you are in your house by yourself for the first time at night with the power out. I felt like throwing up, wondering how I ever thought college could possibly be harder then what I had ahead of me. When the bus finally stopped at Great Lakes Naval Base, we took attendance of the people on the bus, this was not your everyday classroom attendance either, it was the equivalent to what I would imagine prison attendance would be like after a revolt and the guards just rounded up the stray prisoners and they are very pissed at them demanding your name and last four digits of your social security number. As we left the bus in a single file line I was the second person from the front and grateful not to be first, because the first person was being yelled at like a child who just broke his mothers favorite vase and now his mother, who had been hanging on her last thread of sanity, just snapped on him in a verbal rage. The only difference here is that the kid first in line is being yelled at before he does something wrong, in this case, his task as the leader of our single file line is to exit the bus, walk to the door of the building and stand there and NOT open the door. This is a nerve racking task when the man yelling at you is 6’4” and about to rip out of his uniform because his muscles are so huge that the material is going to fly off his body like the Incredible Hulk. This kid was scared, I know he was scared because I was scared and I was not even being yelled at. We left the bus and headed towards our destination and I discovered a sea of black uniformed men and women with red ropes over their shoulders and very short tempers like someone did not hug them enough as children. This sight must have been just too much for my not so fearless line leader because he did something horrible… he reached for the door, like a moth flying into a bug zapper on a wonderful summer day, this poor sap was heading for ultimate doom. I wanted to tell him to wait, I wanted to grab him and pull him back, but most of all I wanted to cover my own ass, so instead I did nothing and figured I would just see how this played out.

Like something you would see on the nature channel it was like the lions pouncing on the lonely zebra as three men in black uniforms and red ropes surrounded my line leader with a listening complex and yelled at him until his eyes welled up with tears and ordered him to the end of the line. Now I understand their decision to move this poor sucker to the end of the line, fate had handed him this unfortunate position of line leader and the difficult task of not touching a door. It was a no brainer; he needed to be removed from this position, however through his ignorance he had promoted me to this position of dumb luck and now I had to be the one who would mindlessly follow the orders of these angry people in black uniforms with red ropes. I was suddenly unsure of myself; I was sickened with the thought of embarrassment, and worst of all I really had to pee.

My first task as line leader was to walk through the door and down the hall while staying next to the wall and stop at the end of the hall. Okay, I thought to myself I can do this, I just had to remember how to walk first. It was like walking with two numb legs. I felt more like I was floating than walking and I stayed so close to the wall that my right shoulder rubbed against the bricks as I headed down the hall. Everything was going great until I met an obstacle in my way; someone had left a mop leaning against the wall right in my walkway. I had strict orders to walk next to that wall- it was time for my leadership skills. I had two options, to walk around the mop or walk through it. I went with the ladder; however as a skinny man in a black uniform with a red rope quickly and very unkindly pointed out to me, that was not the correct choice. He shared some insight on my intelligence and decision making process and when he was finished I was not lucky enough to go to the end of the line, instead I got his verbal lashing and had to continue down to the next hall still in front of everyone else and stand outside a room where I heard a lot of commotion and yelling. Now my heart was beating so fast I could see it through my shirt, I was sweating like I had just ran three miles in a dead sprint, and I still had to pee.

At this moment I, and everyone else who would soon become a recruit for the United States Navy, was in civilian clothes. I of course was still wearing my comfortable Chuck Taylors. This however would change as we entered the room of commotion and noise. We were issued white t-shirts some very uncomfortable white BVD briefs and a navy blue sweat suit. All the guys were in this room standing in columns and rows holding their new attire in hand and waiting for further orders on what to do next. Once everyone was in their designated position we began our quest to conform. We were told to put on our t-shirts first and here is the thing about that, I am not a large man being only 5’and 11” and weighing 150 pounds, so when I put on my large t-shirt I was swimming in it. The man in the black uniform with the red rope yelled at the group to find out if there was anyone who had a t-shirt that did not fit and slowly about 20 hands went into the air to let him know we had the wrong size. After we traded our old t-shirts for new ones we were told to try them on. Now you may ask yourself why I would care to tell you this part of my experience here at Great Lakes Naval Base, but you see when I traded my large t-shirt for a medium, I was handed another large t-shirt. The man in the black uniform now asked again if anyone had a shirt that did not fit, and I was the only person to raise their hand. All of the sudden I was alone, I was humiliated, and I really had to pee.

After my unwelcomed moment in the spotlight the group I was with was broken into smaller groups and sent to different areas. My group was the urine test group and it could not have come any sooner. A man in a black uniform with a red rope gave us instructions to drink water and walk up and down the hallway until we had to go pee, and to not enter the restroom unless we had to urinate. I needed to do no such thing. I had to pee and was happy to do so. I grabbed a cup and turned for the restroom which I was now instructed to refer to as a “head.” When I walked into the head I noticed the toilets were long tubs like you would find at Wrigley Field or in a barn for cows to eat out of. Also in the head, I found a little Asian man about five feet tall in a khaki uniform, meaning he is a Navy Chief, and he was just standing there in the middle of the head. This was odd to me and I do not think you would find this any other place besides Great Lakes Naval Base. I walked over to the tub and was about to pee when the little Asian chief stood next to my shoulder looking at what would be a stream of wonderful yellow relief but instead was air and male anatomy because he was yelling at me about why I would walk into his head and not have to go to the bathroom. He asked what was wrong with me and demanded I leave the head at once for not sending a flow of glory into the little cup in my hand. I was very confused, I was very clammy and I did not have to go pee.

After 40 minutes of drinking water, walking up and down a hallway, being forced to join a new group of recruits because the group I was in had paid their water bill and moved on and watching the perverted little Asian chief leave the head, I was finally able to go pee.

I began missing my house. I was missing my lazy life. I missed my Chuck Taylors that were in a box with my address being sent to my parent’s house. I quickly learned just what navy stood for- Never Again Volunteer Yourself.