November 26, 1972, Sunday

Its afternoon and we just rambled back from the mess hall (cafeteria). Today I am with the crew that cleans the Latrine (bathroom). You know the place with sinks and commodes (toilets) and tile walls. (Bulk heads) We get extra yelled at if we don’t use correct navy terminology. Everybody screams at us. Chiefs, petty officers, recruits on work week. The only difference is the recruit’s cloths don’t fit. Dark blue pants. Blue work shirt and white undershirt, all two sizes too large. I call them baggy pants. They have little authority but more than us. We are constantly reminded that we are lower than worm shit. The theory is if worm shit could talk and wear a uniform it would be our superior. That’s pretty fuckin low.

They put a TV in each wing. It’s football season. The twenty baggy pants that oversee each wing loves this. A twelve-inch black-and-white TV and twenty baggy pants sitting and standing in front of the TV. None of us recruits ever hardly see the TV. Theft incidences went up, as they watch the TV day and night. Who could blame them they haven’t seen a TV in seven weeks. I rolled up my coat to try and make a ball. I tried to play football on the Tarmac (Unstriped parking lot). They shut us down on account it looked like too much like a riot. We spent our days talking in groups, marching to eat and back, cleaning, listing to rumors and searching for drugs that we couldn’t find. Later.

It’s almost time for taps. Earlier, before dinner a couple of buses drove in, followed by a navy chauffeur driven car. It was followed by a civilian limo. The first bus carried seventy or eighty young men. The second bus carried the press, reporters and cameras. The navy car carried top navy brass. The Limo carried a US Senator and a Congressman. They all got out of the buses and cars. They marched in unison. The young men were ordered to gather in a formation. They stood at full attention. Cameras were catching all the action. Panning between the men, the navy brass and the congressional guys. It was a great show. Now I see how it’s done, that marching thing. These guys know what they were doing.

Turns out, this is a Texas Company. Every one of them are from Texas. It was a staged event. The Congressional people from Texas needed a publicity stunt for votes to support the war. The opposite of our antiwar marches. They went on a state wide recruiting effort aimed at high school ROTC programs. Join now and be part of a Texans only company of ROTC recruits. Friends joined together, brothers joined together, cousins joined together and all the 18 year olds in whole small towns joined together. Once they had the number they needed they did a state wide bus tour. It’s the government’s way to showcase fresh fodder for the war.

After the tour they had a televised swearing in ceremony, followed by a plane ride and here they are. They even brought their own flags, two of them, bless their patriotic hearts. A Texas state flag and a flag that looks homemade and tells some sort of story. I could give a crap. It’s is dinner time and this bullshit is holding us up.

When the press and the Brass left with the politicians the trouble began. Seems that there was no room at the Inn. No problem for the stripes. They just took a portion of a wing. They designated the number of bunks they needed and told the occupants to move their crap out in ten minutes. After ten minutes anything left behind was tossed. Some of the displaced occupants were also from Texas, nobody cared, just move it.

To add more insult they made us wait in formation. We were already late for the dinner march because of the press. Now we were waiting for the Texas Company to get settled in. 4000 guys instantly hating Texans even the Texans with us hated them. When they did come out they went to the head of the formation. Nobody cared that they knew how to march. Nobody cared that they knew how to stand at parade rest. Nobody cared that they had flags and flag carriers. We cared that they appeared to be getting better treatment than the rest of us.

They didn’t pay any attention to us when they formed in front of us. They looked cocky when they got to go into the mess hall and eat before us. They felt superior when they stood at perfect parade rest. What they didn’t realize is, first man in means you wait for the last man out. In spite of the screaming and the yelling we ate extra slow. We used the mess hall latrine to the point that we over flowed the toilets, thus causing further delay. We were ordered to clean it up by the mess hall’s master-at-arms. Nobody left until it was spotless. We took our time.

It wasn’t a single person or persons that decide to do this. We all collectively knew it needed to be done. It took a toll on the Texan Company. A world wind day, a bus ride, a plane ride, the fan fair and standing at parade rest for five hours was too much. Two of them passed out, the rest looked to follow. I’m sure these guys are alright. Once that they hear of the crap we put up with here they’ll come off their high horse. Later.