“Attention on deck!” Standing at GQ at the foot of their racks, the recruits snapped to attention as the procession of officers and petty officers entered Compartment D-01. The buff and white walls had been brushed down, the deck shined to perfection, and each three-person locker had been checked and rechecked to ensure that all clothing was properly arranged and stowed. Friday, 13 October, would be a lucky day for Division 005.
“On behalf of Captain Gantt, our commanding officer, it’s a real pleasure to congratulate all of you on your decision to join the world’s greatest Navy, and I am proud to formally welcome you to Recruit Training Command.” Lt. Erin McAvoy (USNA ’93), Ship Eight’s officer, was about to commission Division 01-005. From now until graduation, each recruit would know exactly where the division stood in the training cycle. Today was their 1-1 day (first week, first day). Their goal was to reach 8-5 day, when they would depart RTC.
“When a ship is ready to begin its life at sea, the birth of the ship is marked by a commissioning ceremony. The area commander receives orders to place the ship into commission. The commanding officer gives the order to ‘set the watch,’ and the officers and crew take their stations.
“I am now giving the order for you and your RDCs to ‘set the watch’ and to unfurl and display your guidon proudly, just as a newly commissioned ship displays a commissioning pennant. These orders also direct you to begin your training here at RTC, and I challenge you to begin your path by honoring your decision to join the naval service, by remaining committed to the Navy, and by having the courage to reach the goal you set before coming here.
“Today marks a major milestone in your own personal naval history. Today, you are here to participate in the official commissioning of your division. This is more than just a ceremony, it’s a time-honored naval tradition. It’s performed for every new ship, squadron, and shore installation. It was on this very date, 13 October 1775, that the U.S. Navy itself was established. In 1911 Seaman Recruit Joseph W. Grigg entered the gates of this base as the first recruit on board. Since then, over three million others have completed their training at this facility. Many have gone on to distinguished naval careers. Today you stand where they stood before, as recruits, ready to chart your course into naval history.”
Much of that naval history is rooted at Great Lakes. By the turn of the twentieth century, it became clear that the Navy’s training facility at Coasters Island, Rhode Island, was inadequate. By 1902 the Navy decided that a training center on the Great Lakes would be useful, and considered eight sites in seven states. In a decision greatly influenced by local citizens who ceded land to the government at reduced cost, the Navy chose Lake County, Illinois. As would happen many times over the next century, the influence of a major training establishment upon the local economy was quickly appreciated. Congressman George Foss, who had spearheaded the campaign, became known as the “Father of the Great Lakes Naval Station.” On 28 October 1911, three hundred newly minted sailors passed in review before President Taft and ten thousand invited guests. Joseph Grigg of Indiana was the first sailor in line, and even today, recruits are held accountable for identifying him as the first “boot” to graduate from their training center.
The base grew rapidly during World War I. A total of 125,000 men were trained during the war, with a peak one-day census of 47,741. The base grew to over twelve hundred acres and for the first time expanded west of the Chicago and Milwaukee Electric Railroad, to the space now occupied by Recruit Training Command. Much of the credit for developing the current recruit training areas belongs to Capt. William A. Moffett. The Navy later recognized Moffett by naming the in-processing area north of Buckley Rd. in his honor. Although the name is less frequently used today, the area “through the tunnel” is still the first port of call for the Navy’s newest recruits.
At war’s end the base reverted to caretaker status, with but a handful of graduates each year. The base remained quiescent until 1 July 1935, when it reenergized and prepared for the expected war in Europe.
Within two hours of learning of the Japanese attack at Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941, Capt. Ralph Spalding, CEC, USN, sprang into action. On his own authority, the public works director quickly authorized the construction of thirty-two new barracks, two galleys, and a host of support buildings on base. It is a tribute to his engineering expertise that several of those temporary buildings, including four huge drill halls, are still in use today. On 19 March 1944 the base reached its peak one-day census of 100,156 sailors. In all, 965,259 recruits graduated from boot camp at Great Lakes during the wartime years.
In the drawdown following World War II, the future of the Great Lakes Training Center was often questioned. After GLTC had served as an out-processing and separation center for nearly a half-million sailors at the end of hostilities, the Navy gave serious consideration to the possibility of consolidating recruit training at Norfolk and San Diego. The Navy decided to keep Great Lakes, however, and, along with centers at Bain-bridge, Maryland, and San Diego, the base played a critical role during the Korean War. Nearly seventy thousand new recruits passed through the training center in 1951. The majority of their instructors and company commanders were battle-hardened World War II veterans who brought a wealth of experience to the training of recruits.
The third great wartime contribution began in the mid-1960s, as Great Lakes supported the Navy in Southeast Asia. Working from plans developed in 1957, the Navy brought twelve new thousand-man barracks into service by 1966. For the first time, all recruit training was consolidated at Camps Moffett and Porter, west of Sheridan Rd. In 1965 alone, 86,445 men graduated from Recruit Training Command. Then, in perhaps the most sweeping change of the last century, Great Lakes instituted full gender integration of all recruit training, accepting its first female recruits in 1993.
When Lieutenant McAvoy had completed her prepared comments, Senior Chief Tucker handed the furled guidon to Chief Zeller, as Petty Officers Russell and Kent stood at his side. Chief Zeller untied the half-hitches that had bound the wrapped pennant to its stick. Over the next weeks, the unfurled guidon would precede the recruits wherever they went: to class, to drill, and finally to graduation. They would be taught to guard the guidon with all their resources: scorn and unimaginable shame would fall upon any recruit who allowed others to purloin the simple blue cloth bearing their division number. Recruit folklore was replete with tales of “Ricky Ninjas” who had managed to sneak into a rival division’s compartment, and capture their “battle flags.” No one wanted 005’s honor to be so besmirched.
Both Senior Chief Tucker and Lieutenant McAvoy nodded approvingly as Collins, Caldeira, and the other recruit petty officers posted the colors at the front of the compartment. The division’s elongated P-day period had given them a chance to learn basic marching and facing movements, and their military bearing was noticeably better than other divisions at a similar stage of development. Still, marching with furled guidon and ship’s flag had advertised their newness and rookie status to everyone they encountered. The recruits were happy to shed the stigma of furled banners.
Mark Walls, 19, Aikoi, West Virginia
I hated it when we were still caterpillars. That’s what they call a division that can’t fly their flags. We look just like a caterpillar—two sticks up front for antennas, and a couple hundred legs, going down the road. I was glad we at least could show our number.
The recruits remained at attention until the commissioning party left, and spent the remainder of the day stenciling, folding uniforms, and practicing stowing and unstowing their belongings in the very small lockers provided for them. Much of the first week of training would be consumed by these simple, repetitive tasks. Petty Officer Dan Kent explains: “Well, the need to stencil everything is pretty obvious. There are eighty male and eighty female recruits in two brother divisions. With six pairs of socks, six sets of skivvies and tee shirts each—well, you figure out the odds of finding your own stuff on laundry day. As for folding and stowing, we tell them there are two reasons for our insistence on doing things exactly. First, the amount of space here or aboard ship is limited. But, much more importantly, this is the first lesson in following orders to the letter. I tell them nobody is going to care how you fold your skivvies when you’re in the fleet, but they are going to care if you can’t follow a work order, or tech manual, or instructions from the bridge. This is where they begin to develop the mindset of ‘there’s only one way—the Navy way’—to do something.”
Dan Kent had been a parachute rigger for nearly twenty years. (Although the rating was broadened to include other aspects of aviation survival equipment maintenance, the incumbents fought for, and kept, the prized PR designation, as well as the winged parachute for their specialty mark.) The recruits could have no better role model for achieving perfection, each time, every time.
The remainder of the first week of training concentrated on basic military values, naval history, the Uniform Code of Military Justice, and regulations that guided the relationships between male and female recruits, as well as between officers and enlisted members. While most mornings were spent in close-order drill, or logistic tasks like fitting uniforms, afternoons were spent in classrooms at either the main schoolhouse, Building 1127, or the training annex at Building 927. Not every moment of class was enjoyable.
Parker Classes here are deadly. It’s always warm in the classroom building. The instructor usually talks in a monotone. Most people have a real hard time keeping awake. Occasionally, though, you’ll get a hip one that can keep you awake for a while. The good thing is, though, if you can stay awake and take good notes, your notebook will get you through the academic tests real easy. The EPO [education petty officer] keeps good notes, and during night study, you can check someone else’s notebook and see what you missed if you fell asleep.
Professionals in adult education would agree with Seaman Recruit Parker’s assessment. Classes were usually conducted in enormous rooms with a minimum of 175 tablet armchairs; indeed, some had over 200. Many rooms were dingy and poorly lighted. Training aids consisted of charts, overhead projectors, or, if the recruits were exceptionally fortunate, computer-generated PowerPoint presentations. It was necessary to dim the classroom lights in order for the recruits to see the overhead projections. Instructors quickly learned that the combination of darkness, warmth, and recruit fatigue did not facilitate learning. Recruits were encouraged to walk to the back of the class if they felt drowsy, and within the first ten minutes of any class there was no standing room left along the rear walls. The constant movement of students from desk to rear, as well as those making head calls or refilling canteens, made for a challenging learning environment.
One instructor, who asked to remain unnamed, teaches classroom units dealing with sexual harassment, fraternization, and discrimination: “The things we teach are very important, but it’s difficult to keep the recruits’ attention. Even though I use a wireless microphone, and have a good, clean PowerPoint presentation, it’s difficult to keep their focus—hey, it’s difficult for me to keep my focus, what with recruits getting up and down; standing, moving, knocking books off these tiny desks, and so forth. Our rules require us to allow hydration at any time, so there’s always someone going out to fill canteens. And although we only allow two recruits of each gender to go to the head at once, there’s usually a line formed up by each door.
“While this stuff is important, it’s certainly not much fun. Today, for example, we used a videotape ‘Brown Eyes, Blue Eyes’ about attitudes toward people who are different from us. It was made for grade-school students—in the late 1970s. You can imagine how that plays to the MTV generation, right?”
Fortunately, there were other, more active diversions. On Tuesday, 17 October, the recruits had their first exposure to the Olympic-sized swimming pool at Building 1425. The temperature outside was 66 degrees by noon; the morning’s haze had burned off, and the twenty-five-minute march from the galley to the pool was pleasant. After showering, the recruits were led to the water’s edge, and briefed by a water-safety instructor. Those who claimed to be unable to swim left the main group, and assembled on benches near a smaller, 3-foot-deep pool. The remainder climbed the 10-foot-high tower, stepped off the platform in groups of three, swam and practiced treading water for five minutes, and mustered beside the pool. Nonswimmers entered the smaller pool, where a cadre of instructors individually tested their aquatic abilities. Some were judged fit to attempt the swim test immediately, others after some remediation and practice, and still others were enrolled in a full course of swimming lessons, which they would complete over the next four weeks.
GMC(SW/CC)* Dave Gardner was chief of the deck for Division 005’s swimming qualifications. “We’re really proud of the new pool here, and our swimming instruction program. Recruits must qualify as third-class swimmers before graduation. That means they must swim at least 50 yards, tread water for at least five minutes, and understand survival procedures if immersed. The new pool cost the Navy over $9 million—which is a pretty good sign of how important the command feels water safety to be. All of the instructors here are first-class swimmers. Most are SEALs, Special Boats qualified, or air-sea rescue swimmers. And one other thing—the day of throwing recruits off the tower to watch them learn to swim on the way down is a thing of the past. We work with recruits who have a fear of heights or a fear of water, and, if necessary, their RDCs will refer them to the psychologists at the Recruit Evaluation Unit to try to get to the root of the problem. The shrinks even suggested that we change our command from “jump” to “step” to make it less threatening. But jump or step, these recruits will learn to swim, at least well enough to abandon ship if necessary, before they leave here.”
Most of the recruits thoroughly enjoyed the dip in the pool, particularly after some time in the muggy and humid atmosphere of the pool house.
Freeman That was the best moment so far in boot camp. I love swimming, and want to be a rescue swimmer. I went in, and the only problem I had was that there were so many people swimming around that I got kicked while I was treading water. But other than that it was fun.
Pankratz Well, promise you won’t tell? Some of us thought it was so much fun that we got out early, so that the instructors would yell at us and make us go back up. I went off the platform twice, and got twice as long in the pool.
Gildersleeve I never swam when I was coming up in Birmingham, so I just went over to the “kiddie pool,” and sat down on the bench. I thought they’d be yelling and screaming, but I had this lady instructor, and she said, “You ever swim?” And I said no, so she didn’t hassle me. She just told me to go see the guy at the table and get times to come to class.
Petty Officer Russell, who had accompanied the division to the swimming pool, explains: “There is some percentage of recruits who never learned to swim, and a smaller portion who are plain scared of the water. Why someone who is afraid of the water would join the Navy is something I never understood, but they do. So, rather than yell and scream and make things worse and slow down the swimming qualifications, we just have instructors with long poles every ten feet around the pool, and about ten more instructors in the water. You couldn’t drown during swim test if you wanted to.”
After completing their swim qualifications, and marching to Galley 928 for evening chow, the recruits returned to their compartment for more folding and stowing practice and routine evening duties. And, as was the case every night during those first weeks away from home, the recruits had a chance to reflect on things after taps at 2200.
Rasco I was starting to make friends, and that made things a lot easier. I wish that I could say that I became a friend with everyone in my division, but that just wasn’t the case. But there were several females in my division who were wonderful people and I started to think of them as family. There were times when it feels like I had forty moms, forty sisters, forty friends, and forty enemies! I guess I was pretty lucky when it came to shipmates. One night, when we first got here, I received a letter from my mom, and I was reading it after taps, and I began to cry uncontrollably. Several of my shipmates came over to my rack and patted me on the back and reminded me that we would all be okay, and that they were there for me if I needed to talk. I’ll never forget that night. I believe it was the first night that I had finally felt somewhat at ease. I lay there and cried for awhile, and my shipmates knelt by my rack and tried to be good shipmates and friends. And when I heard Volk, Adams, and Starks crying one night, I tiptoed to their racks, and I spoke to them briefly about what was bugging them. After each one told me their problems, I told them that I would say a prayer for them and that if they needed to talk any more I was there for them. I was glad to do for them what my other shipmates had done for me.
Many were a bit cautious about making friends too quickly, but by the end of the first full week of training, relationships had begun to form.
Gildersleeve When I first got to boot camp I was kind of skeptical about hanging with the crowd, you know? Because I wanted to focus solely on myself and get out of boot camp fast. So at first I sort of stayed to myself. I sat back and checked out the guys to see who I can associate myself with. At first, I met this guy named Watkins. He was cool, and I began to realize we had a lot in common. He was easy to relate to. He was from Georgia and I’m from Alabama. We had the same taste in music and down-south women. But he got ASMOed on our 1-2 day. I have seen him since, but things aren’t the same, because we aren’t in the same house. Then, as time began to pass and I started getting familiar with everything, I started to chill with the crew. I hung with all the guys, getting to know their ways, and I got closer to picking my boys. We’re the “nasty nine,” and most of us clean the heads during field day. I hooked up with Caldeira, and he’s a cool and funny recruit. We can laugh and enjoy this boot camp and make time fly. Caldeira is from New York. I have cousins from New York so I can relate to his ways a lot. He has big dreams about being in the Navy and I hope that God blesses him and he can accomplish everything he set out to do. That is all he talks about: being an officer and flying planes for the Navy. He knows all his stuff and is very enthusiastic about going through with it. He caught my attention one day by being so jittery, moving all the time. And one day I said, “Yo, man, you can’t be still for nothing!” And we’ve been cool ever since.
My other buddy is Betton. Now, Betton and me are from opposite sides of the world. He is from L.A. and I am from Alabama. Betton is kind of brash and cocky. That’s one of the reasons why I think I click with him. He reminds me of myself when I was his age. Betton, Caldeira, and I are all going to the same school in Florida. So we will be together for a while longer but after that, who knows?
The recruits continued their heavy schedule of morning drill and afternoon classes. By the middle of the first week, the RDCs began to accelerate the pace of physical conditioning, to prepare the recruits for the intermediate PT test (PT-1) and final test (PT-2). Recruits had specific goals to meet for pushups, curls (a form of sit-ups), and the mile-and-a-half run. Failure to meet these goals by the seventh week of boot camp would disqualify a recruit from running battle stations, and without battle stations, one could not graduate from boot camp. Recruit folklore was full of stories of recruits who had failed their physical training tests repeatedly, and had spent six months or more at RTC before finally graduating. Attitudes varied regarding PT, which was usually performed well before dawn, either at a drill hall or on the grinder behind Ship Eight. It was fairly clear that it was almost no one’s favorite part of the day.
Leitner I’ve heard some recruits call PT “puppy training” or “pet training”: roll over, sit, stand, and so on. When I think of PT, I think of a healthy lifestyle. Since I’m a nutrition and food science graduate, eating right and exercising was a big part of my life. My husband I and lived a very active lifestyle. Once your body becomes adjusted to exercise, you can’t go long without it. Before boot camp, I did step aerobics three times a week. And my husband and I enjoyed bike riding and roller-skating.
PT in Navy boot camp is challenging, though. I never did PT with “crackers” in my eyes at 0400 before. Therefore, this was definitely an adjustment. PT in the training process is not made to be fun for recruits; it’s like a punishment, “puppy training”—on your stomach, on your feet, and so on.
I do think that more emphasis needs to be placed on nutrition, and the value and long-term effects of physical training on Navy recruits. The younger recruits feel threatened and don’t enjoy it at all, which makes it difficult for everyone as a team. Moreover, everyone is “beaten” by the RDCs if someone is not motivated, and I don’t feel that’s right. For me, physical training is a stress reliever, relaxation, and cleansing of my body. However, being “ITEd” and “cycled” should not be part of the regular training for good exercise. The RDCs yell and threaten, which is not encouraging and motivating.*
More emphasis needs to be placed on running, which is the most important goal to complete before battle stations. Yet I feel that, whatever you put into it, that’s what you get out of it. Everyone knows his or her goal and the time to achieve it. I feel you can do anything you’ve put your mind to.
Recruit Leitner had identified one of the chief contradictions of Navy boot camp. Over the last several years the Navy has deliberately tried to change its culture from one of indulgence to one that prizes physical fitness. Gone are the “two for one” happy hours at most service clubs. Smoking is banned at most facilities; indeed, at Great Lakes, smoking is prohibited even inside a private vehicle on base. And markedly increased emphasis has been placed on physical conditioning to build stamina, agility, and overall well-being. Unfortunately, one of the few forms of chastisement or correction available to RDCs is to require additional physical fitness training for even the slightest misdemeanor. Recruit Leitner—at age thirty-five, both the oldest and best-educated member of the division—quickly recognized the contrarian effect that this has on recruits. Who can develop a positive attitude toward exercise, when avoiding additional punitive exercises is the goal of every sensible recruit?
Table 1. Minimum Physical Training Standards for Navy Recruits
Others felt the same way, even if they articulated it less eloquently.
Caldeira I dread PT the most. It usually happens at about four-thirty to five every morning. It is pretty stressful to have to run and do pushups and situps and the large numbers of stretches we are required to do.
But then again, you have to look at PT as a motivational type of workout. When we do PT, we sing and have some fun. I just wish that it was a little bit later in the day.
The main reason that we run PT every day is to prepare for the PT tests. Of those two tests, PT-2 is the big cheese. If you fail PT-2 you won’t be able to run battle stations, therefore keeping you from your goal, which is passing in review and graduating.
So you have no other choice but to love PT, and to try your hardest to give 110 percent all the time. If you do, you’ll be fine when it comes to PT-2. Our division has a pretty good overall score at PT-0 [the preliminary baseline screening test], and we want to earn the “A” flag, which is the athletic flag. But I felt as if we just barely scratched the surface, because PT-2 is nothing to mess with. A pretty good number of recruits get ASMOed during this time. You just have to give your all and try to enjoy PT as best you can.
For one recruit, Physical Training was also an introduction to the loneliness of command.
Daniel Smith, 22, Vancouver, Washington
I’m the recruit athletic petty officer (APO). Nobody loves the APO. We jump out of our racks at four in the morning, and everyone knows that we are going to PT, so they are already mad at the APO. We get in our PT gear and head over to the drill hall.
When PT begins, it consists of a five-minute run as a division, and then we start the stretching and aerobics, which consist of 25 jumping jacks, 25 half-jumping jacks, 10 windmills, and 10 rotations. After stretch and aerobics, we run for ten minutes at my pace.
And again, everyone is cursing the APO. “Slow down, slow down, my legs are killing me,” and stuff like that. After the run we do a cool-down, stretch, and aerobics, with 25 more jumping jacks, rotations, windmills, hamstring, and deep bends.
Every other day we do in-house or courtyard exercises that consist of the same stretches and aerobics. But instead of running we do push-ups and sit-ups.
Now, when we are running in the drill hall some people drop out and go into the head. When I catch them I give them an UNSAT in their hard card, and I show that to Chief or one of the Petty Officers and they give them ITE [Instructional Training Exercises—more PT]. It seems to me that they should just finish the run and they would not have to work out more.
I personally like PT, although I wish we could work with free weights. The RDCs give me a lot of freedom as the APO, but nobody ever likes the athletic petty officer, anyway. I don’t mind, though.
Nevertheless, as the week ended, there was a noticeable improvement in physical conditioning among the recruits. Those who had been able to manage only a few push-ups or curls now were well into double digits, and the RDCs were able to increase the pace slightly for each morning’s run. Chief Zeller comments: “One of the big differences between when I came into the Navy and now is the level of physical activity that these young men and women are used to. It might be video games, or MTV, or what—and I’ve noticed it with my own kids, too—but they just aren’t as ready for physical challenges as we were fifteen or twenty years ago, I think. The problem is, though, that a hawser weighs just as much now as it did then, and loading munitions on a flight line hasn’t gotten any easier. They must pass PT-2 or risk a setback, and we use that to motivate them when we have them in the drill hall for morning PT.”
*Chief Gardner is a chief gunner’s mate (E7), with both surface and close combat warfare qualifications.
*“Being beaten” and “cycling” are recruit jargon for what is properly called ITE (instructional training exercises). ITE is one motivational tool permitted to RDCs. It consists of a very energetic series of exercises, and must be conducted under strict guidelines, with specific cycles of exercise, hydration, rest, head-calls, and so forth.