FORMING COMPANY part two That first day of boot camp was exhausting! Everyone is yelling. We get herded from this place, to that, being told the whole time we are moving too slowly. Turns out we are only the first of several groups of boys making a go of the Coast Guard today. While waiting for more guys to arrive, we finally get a chance to rest. The room we were in, a large open room with dozens and dozens of bunk beds. Well, not exactly beds; they looked more like cots. The room itself was unkempt, and it looked like pretty much what it was, a human holding pen. There were all of three chairs. Good for the dudes that got them, this floor is good enough for me. Ahhhh nice cool linoleum floor. The odor, perhaps from the dusty, uncirculated air, reminded me of working on the stage back at Reseda. At some point, a guy comes in to the cavernous barracks with the harsh fluorescent lighting where we all had been cloistered. This guy is not shouting & all that; he seems pretty sedate, all things considered. He was just a bit taller than me. His aviator sunglasses complete perfectly the effect he must be going for. He’s carrying around a riding crop for God’s sake. His tropical blue uniform was clean and pressed. Newly acquired ribbons proclaiming his proficiency with the .45 an M-16 adorn the left side of his chest. The taps on his shoes made it clear to us this guy with the slicked down dark hair is pretty important. We stop whatever it was we were doing at that moment; we had already learned (I did, anyway) that paying attention was going to be vital if we are going to survive this ordeal. “Relax guys, I’m not here to get you all riled up.” Says Seaman Export-A, nicknamed for his insistence that the only brand of cigarettes worth smoking anywhere in the world are “Export-A,’” imported from Canada. “We’re waiting for one more group to make it from the airport, so just sit tight. We’ll have some box lunches & drinks here in just a few minutes. I’ll be looking after you guys until you are all ready to be introduced to your Company Commander who will be in charge of you for the rest of your time here. He fields several questions, doing his level best to set our nerves at ease. He notices the kid with the fishing poles & stuff. Seaman Export-A asks what on earth possessed him to bring so much recreational gear. “I heard we’d have a lot of free time, and I wanted to be sure I had things to do to occupy myself.” “Trust me,” responds SN Export-A, “you are not going to have ANY free time really, and when you do, you are going to want to sleep, not play tennis.” At some point, we were relieved of our civilian clothes, and each given black coveralls to wear. Chow time came, and SN Export-A formed us up into three columns & made us jog (double time) to the mess hall. It was pretty clear I wasn’t the only guy who was in need of physical conditioning. I was fine for like the first 37 seconds, and then my body started complaining. Thank God SN Export-A & his buddies were there to encourage us to “get a f&^%ing move on.” We get to the mess hall, & we are lined up single file from the front door, out & around the corner. “NUTS TO BUTTS, LADIES, DON’T BE SHY.” We are all of standing with the building to our left. Some guys are close to the building, some are a step or six away. Most everyone got the meaning of SN Export-A’s coaching, and tidied up the line a bit. Smoking one of the lauded Export-As, while he keeps an eye on us from a short distance away. He sighs heavily, throws down the cigarette, using the heel of his right shoe to crush out the cherry. He walks up to the front of the line and hands his riding crop to one of his retinue. He moves his sunglasses up to the top of his head, and takes the first two guys in line by the shoulder, saying “nuts…” his voice trails off as if stretching a clue on a game show. Just ever so much higher in pitch at the end. He repositions them just so: Fellow 1 is gently moved to the left, so that his left shoulder and arm are touching the building. Maintaining his hold on Fellow 1 with his right, SN Export-A uses his left hand to gently guide fellow 2 forward so that his front side comes in contact with Fellow 1’s back side. He reinforces the lesson by saying the words “to butts” just as he brings the two strangers together, his tone clear: “like so.” He moves down the line, patiently repeating the procedure, over and over until he was certain we were clear on his meaning. “Weird,” I remember thinking. “What’s the point of that?” ….Next: SEA SHOWERS
Posted on: Thu, 14 Nov 2013 05:34:29 +0000
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