12        

Battle Stations! Fighting the Good Fight

2030, 30 November 2000, Ship Eight, RTC Great Lakes

Dan Kent and Lela Russell mustered with the Division 006 RDCs in the first deck lounge. Senior Chief Nelson rose and searched for a weather report on television. “Too early for the news, Senior,” remarked Russell. “I know, but I heard we might get snow this evening,” Nelson replied. “That’s what the radio said, anyway.”

Kent, Russell, Nelson, Brown, and Redekop were dressed in coveralls—standard issue, except for Kent’s. Kent, as a former battle stations facilitator, wore dress coveralls, identical to those worn by the staff at Building 1312. Royal blue, with gold accents, the dress coveralls identified “the best of the best.” Each battle stations facilitator had pushed at least six divisions as an RDC before winning the coveted assignment.

On the second deck, compartment D-01 was quiet. Taps had sounded at 2000. The only sounds were a few muffled coughs, and the footsteps of the compartment watch, provided tonight as a courtesy by Division 032. Battle stations was considered an all-hands evolution, even if several members of the division—those who had failed PT-2 or were sick in quarters—would not participate.

Gildersleeve lay in his bunk, exhausted. Earlier, there had been much debate among the Nasty Nine, as they conducted field day in the head. Was it better to get one hour’s sleep, or stay awake and let adrenaline carry you through the night? In the end, it was a moot argument, for the master-at-arms, like most of his shipmates, was too keyed up to sleep.

Topside, Stephanie Prosper tossed and turned. At reveille that morning, she had banged into Jenny Jones, her bunkmate, as they both jumped out of their racks. Her left knee throbbed from the collision. Let me keep going tonight, Lord, she prayed. She promised herself that in the morning she’d go straight to sickbay if it continued to hurt.

Below, on the quarterdeck, the outer door opened. The JOOD snapped to attention. A team of six battle stations facilitators, led by SMl(SW)* Scott Bowser, reported, turned, and entered the lounge. Bowser greeted Senior Chief Nelson and the assembled RDCs. “005 and 006 tonight?” Nelson nodded. Bowser checked his clipboard. “All eleven events are operating tonight. We’ll double-time between locations—the temperature is still about 35, and the wind chill is holding at about 24 or 25. If we get ice or snow later, we may slow ’em down, but right now it looks like we’ll run all evening. So, if you guys are ready . . .”

Senior Chief Nelson nodded again. Three divisions would run this evening. In addition to 005 and 006, Division 902, the band, choir, and drill division, would also participate. Dan Kent smiled. During summer surge, it was not unusual for six divisions to run, in two groups. With a single group, battle stations should finish not much later than 0800. That should help avoid total fatigue, he thought.

The facilitators reviewed the rules for tonight’s event. Any of three major infractions would cause a recruit to immediately fail, and be returned to the barracks. Cheating, gundecking, or attempting to “beat the system” was an automatic failure and, indeed, would no doubt result in a two- to three-week setback to a junior division. Balking at any of the exercises—the formal term was “refusing to train”—would also result in failure. Stopping during any run, or falling so far back as to exceed permitted transit times, was also grounds for immediate failure. Bowser explained that a recruit incurring three “strikes”—minor infractions or safety violations—would fail, and be required to repeat battle stations during the following week.

Because of the threat of snow and ice later that evening, the facilitators agreed to some leniency regarding transit times between events. They agreed that, so long as a recruit neither passed the facilitator leading the run, nor fell behind the RDC running as the aft safety observer, actual times would not be recorded.

Bowser also reviewed roles and responsibilities for the evening. Facilitators would conduct the events; two RDCs would accompany the division at all times to motivate and maintain discipline among the recruits. Unspoken, but understood, was the requirement to lead by example. While the RDCs were not permitted to assist the recruits in any way, they were expected to participate in the runs between venues, as well as to act as casualties, safety observers, and general cheerleaders for their divisions. Kent would lead two twenty-member sections of the division (the Blue Team); Russell would lead the remaining two, designated as the Gold Team. Chief Zeller, who had drawn duty as the ship’s OOD this evening, would remain behind as the “catcher,” responsible for any recruit who failed battle stations and returned early.

“No problems? Let’s go, then!”

2100, Compartment D-1

The 1MC squawked into action. A recorded announcement, with sound effects, filled the berthing spaces. “General quarters, general quarters! All hands man your battle stations. General quarters, general quarters. All hands man your battle stations. Incoming missiles, port side! Incoming!”

Bowser, accompanied by facilitators PN1(SW)* Robinson and AD1(SW)** Velasco, burst through the door of D-01. “RPOC! You have seven minutes to get your division into full battle dress and integrated! Move!”

Katie Abbott, 19, Pensacola, Florida

I was ready, because they were prepping us up earlier in the evening. I didn’t even sleep because I was nervous and excited, so I was ready when they came in.

Hattrich I slept good because I knew we were going to be up all night. But then, when I woke I up I was, like, where am I? What’s going on?

Quickly, recruits jumped from their racks, dressed, and grabbed their prepositioned seabags. The male members of Division 006 raced out the back door and up the aft ladder toward their space. As 006’s males entered the topside compartment from the aft ladder, 005’s female members left by the forward door. The first female members arrived in D-01 within four minutes; but it was nearly seven minutes before the division was completely integrated.

Bruce I think we were slow getting downstairs because most of us were tired, even those who slept. We couldn’t move that fast. And another thing. I don’t think we were listening to what they were saying. We weren’t following instructions.

Veronica Burrell, 18, Painesville, Ohio

I think it was because we were scared. This was our first battle station and we didn’t want to get any strikes or anything, so we were scared of getting failed or something.

There was additional delay, as it became apparent that there were not enough road guard vests to safely move the division between venues. Kent called Chief Zeller at the quarterdeck, and extra vests were quickly appropriated from other divisions in the building.

Bowser positioned the teams. The Blue Team mustered forward, the Gold Team headed aft. Confusion continued among the recruits: during “dress rehearsals” they had stood at their GQ positions, in front of the racks, facing inboard.

Andrew Krofta, 22, Cleveland, Ohio

There were some people, males and females, who were sleepy . . . I think the time was pretty good, at least in getting integrated.

Xavier Pasillas, 26, San Bernardino, California

We were anticipating things. I don’t think very many people went to sleep. We were just expecting them to come in there and start tearing the place up.

Katie Adams, 18, Hillsborough, North Carolina

We practiced different than what they wanted us to do. Like, we practiced getting to GQ, but they wanted us all forward. And we got mixed up with the 006 females, and it was a mess for a couple minutes.

Because of the confusion, it was eleven minutes before Hopkins reported the group ready and accounted for. Bowser noted the discrepancy on his tally sheet. The slow start would count against the division’s total score, but would not be counted against individual recruits. He began the formal introduction to battle stations.

“For the last eight weeks your RDCs have taught you everything they could about the Navy. Your classes have been focused on the technical knowledge you must possess and the discipline and teamwork has been steadily increasing as you went along. Tonight is your call to arms! You have drilled on getting into battle dress and handled some of the tools of a sailor’s trade. In a few short weeks you will be on station. Tonight you must put yourself in the place of sailors already on station and fight the enemy, just as you will when you ‘relieve the watch’ in the weeks ahead. Remember that tonight you are on a mission, just as surely as if you were at Valley Forge with George Washington, on the USS Yorktown at the Battle of Midway or in the submarine USS Louisville launching the first Tomahawk missile at Iraq.”

The facilitators inspected the teams, and except for a few minor discrepancies, all was well. After a final discussion with the facilitators, Petty Officer Russell led the Gold Team out the aft door and down the ladder, while PR1 Kent and the Blue Team exited through the front doors. Battle stations had begun.

2130, Indiana St., Just East of Ship Eight

The teams assembled in the roadway. It was cold outside, a few degrees above freezing. A northeast wind blew steadily off the lake at about ten miles per hour. The recruits were clad in battle dress—utility shirts and pants, with collars and sleeves buttoned, and trousers bloused into their boots. All wore utility jackets, with guard belts and full canteens. Kevlar battle helmets, weighing 3.5 pounds, completed the battle stations uniform. Each group of four recruits was also responsible for a full seabag, containing spare clothing to be donned later. The loaded seabags, weighing 20 pounds each, would play an important role in subsequent events.

As a preliminary warm-up, it was standard procedure to march, rather than double-time, to the first event. After a nod from Petty Officer Kent, Hopkins gave the command, and accompanied by Rasco’s familiar cadence “1, 2, 3, ahhh, 4,” the team began the half-mile march to Building 1312.

Half of the night’s events would occur at Building 1312, located at the extreme northeastern corner of Camp Porter, near the tunnel linking Camps Porter and Moffett. After each evolution at Building 1312, the team would double-time to another venue on the base. In total, the recruits would travel 4.7 miles, and, unless ice or snow prevailed, 4.2 miles of that distance would be completed at double-time. The longest segment of the run—about a mile—would be the section linking the Firefighting Training Center, along the far northern fence, and Building 1312. The recruits would gradually work up to that distance as the night progressed.

The recruits arrived at Building 1312. Facilitators quietly spirited away several larger recruits to act as casualties. As the recruits waited nervously, PNl(SW) Ed Robinson set the stage for the first event.

“Listen up. The story I’m about to tell you took place during the Vietnam War. But I don’t have to remind you that we live and work in a dangerous—very dangerous—world. You know what happened aboard USS Cole a month ago. One of those young sailors was here, in battle stations, less than six months ago. Think about that. Think about how you’d feel if you were a casualty, depending on your shipmates to get you to safety.

“We’ve made this as realistic as we can, but there are no real bullets flying, no real explosions, and no real blood. The next time you do this, they might be very real. Naval history is full of examples of junior Navy personnel who have found themselves in harm’s way and have risen to the occasion and performed heroic deeds. Two such examples are from the war in Vietnam.

“HM2 Alan C. James, stationed with the U.S. Marines in Quang Tri Province in 1968, took part in a three-day engagement with the enemy in which he personally organized company aid stations and casualty clearing points. He attended to each of the injured Marines and was almost constantly exposed to enemy fire. On several occasions he actually shielded the injured with his own body, and at one point he went outside the defensive perimeter to aid and evacuate a seriously injured Marine to a waiting helicopter. He refused rest and protective cover to assure the safety of these men.

“HM2 William L. Hickey, also stationed with the Marines in Vietnam, was along on a search-and-destroy mission when his unit came under heavy attack. He braved enemy fire and moved across an open field to aid and evacuate an injured Marine trapped in an amphibian vehicle. Although he was wounded he succeeded in removing the Marine to a safe area. Realizing that two other corpsmen needed assistance in treating the wounded, he again exposed himself to enemy fire to reach their position and was wounded a second time. He ignored his own injuries and continued to treat injured comrades and was wounded yet a third time by a grenade. Even with his multiple injuries he remained, refusing evacuation till the most serious of the wounded had been removed over a several-hour period.

“Here’s the deal, recruits. Your team has been temporarily put in barracks in an overseas port while awaiting your ship to make a port call and pick you up. A group of terrorists has blown apart your barracks and four of your shipmates are badly injured. The terrorists are attempting to take control of the installation, and small-arms fire and shells continue to threaten your position. You are unarmed and have been directed to move your injured shipmates to a secure area where they can be evacuated. You must provide first aid to your wounded and move them as quickly as possible to the designated area. Remember that your ability to use your individual strength and your combined strength and ingenuity as a team will make the difference between life and death for you and your shipmates. In the case of Doc James and Doc Hickey, they lived to receive the Navy Cross for their efforts and sacrifice in helping the wounded under their care. Many of the men they went into battle with survived as a result of the Honor, Courage, and Commitment which they displayed. Now it’s your turn, recruits.”

The division again separated into Blue and Gold Teams. Several four-person stretcher parties would navigate a darkened wooden maze, painted flat black. The floor of the maze was carpeted with pea-sized gravel. Tunnels, barriers, low walls, barbed wire, and a realistic machine-gun emplacement at the halfway point would have to be negotiated before the teams reached safety. Recruits were assigned as scouts, stretcher-bearers, corpsmen, defenders, and other roles likely to be required by a rescue party. Two facilitators, designated as safety observers, mounted a catwalk from which all areas of the maze could be easily observed. Recruits detected in any unsafe act, or those who became separated from their teams or became mixed with the other team at the crossover point, would receive a strike. Robinson, lead facilitator for the event, threw a switch on the bulkhead to begin the event.

The entire area was cast into total darkness, lit only by flashing strobe lights simulating weapons fire. Tape-recorded gunfire, explosion, screams, and other chaotic noises filled the area. The pre-identified “casualties,” including Petty Officer Kent and three recruits, moaned and screamed in simulated anguish. All were sporting hideous, life-threatening moulage wounds.

Freeman It was dark in there, and the sirens and the guns and the flashing lights and all, but the worst part was everyone screaming and stuff, and there was no way we could get organized. We couldn’t even hear each other.

For ten minutes, the teams labored to identify and treat the wounded and load them into Stokes baskets. As a siren sounded, the teams started through the maze, often spending precious minutes exploring dead ends before moving the casualties forward.

Gildersleeve I was the team leader, see, and we got slowed down for a couple minutes on the first part of the course. I went and found this way through, but it gets smaller and smaller, and I figured there was no way to get the stretcher through, you know? So I went through, and from the other side, I could see the lights and saw the other way to bring him through. But we got hung up there for, like, three minutes or so till I got it figured out. It was a real rush, with the guns and the lights and all. It got me awake and going.

The Gold Team had gotten a quicker start, and the two teams met somewhat beyond the midpoint. This provided a challenge, since they met in the narrowest part of the maze, and there was heated discussion between stretcher parties until the Gold Team retreated enough to let the Blue Team pass.

Bruce I hated those little bitty passageways on the ground, with barbed wire and stuff, and you had to drag this, like, 200-pound person through there. Collins was in our stretcher, and he’s, like, huge.

Burger I was a victim. The hardest part was screaming, and getting dropped on the ground twice, and someone kicked me in the gut when they were trying to get over me. Being a victim is hard, man!

Stamp I was a victim, too, and someone stepped on me when we were in there. They put all the big people on the stretchers, and we got slid over these rocks and pebbles and stuff.

The siren sounded again to end the exercise. Rising from his Stokes basket, Petty Officer Kent consulted with the facilitators, who agreed. “All in all, a pretty good run. Your south team leader got himself turned around as he tried to fit a 6-foot Stokes through a 5-foot hole, but, overall, they looked pretty good.” Covered in dust from the gravel, and exhausted by their efforts, the recruits were unsure about their own performance.

Rasco I was dead beat, and I thought to myself, uh oh, this is only the first event. I ain’t gonna make it through the night.

Hattrich I liked it, but I wish we hadn’t done that first, because we were all dusty and nasty all night, then. That dust and gravel gets all over your gear and in your hair and in your mouth.

Josephine Castillo, 19, Gardena, California

I liked it, except for my knees being on those little rocks, and on my hands, and trying to drag that heavy victim across all those obstacles.

2300, The First Run

Division 005 had made it through the first event unscathed. After gathering their gear, they mustered outside and set off at a moderate jogging pace, southbound on Indiana St. toward the Weapons Simulator. The temperature was falling slightly. O’Hare Airport, twenty miles to the southwest, was reporting 34 degrees. The wind continued from the northeast, but the group was sheltered for much of the run by the bulk of Building 1127, the schoolhouse, as well as Drill Halls 1200 and 1000. Shortly after passing Drill Hall 1200, however, one recruit made a tactical error. Intending, perhaps, to show his “warrior attitude,” he sped up and passed AEl(AW)* Richard Rotello, who was leading the run. Rotello picked up the pace, and what began as a jog quickly turned into a sprint.

“Facilitators run in the guidon position, outboard on the front row,” remarked ATC(AW) Mike Witcher, battle stations duty chief. “It’s a safety issue. There’s a lot of traffic at night, particularly trucks delivering to the galleys, and we don’t want anyone hurt. The RDC runs in the aft-outboard position to provide coverage from the rear. I appreciate gung-ho attitudes among recruits, but that’s not the time or place to get into a footrace.”

Hopkins I was up front, but I couldn’t see much of what was going on because it was so dark. All I know is that when we were in front of Drill Hall 1200, we really started moving. I had a seabag, and it was awfully hard to keep up. People kept running up the backs of my legs all night, but that time was worse.

Sison I had a seabag, too. People kept taking the seabags, and then giving them up after just a minute or two. I wound up carrying one all night. And the run to the rifle range was terrible.

The recruits—particularly those holding the seabags—were winded when they arrived at the Weapons Simulator. Shedding their utility jackets, they listened as the rangemaster described the scenario:

“Remember, as a sailor you may be called upon to perform extraordinary feats to accomplish any given mission. A good example of one sailor who rose to that challenge was BM1 James Williams. Being just eleven months from retirement in 1966, he believed he should do more and left his comfortable assignment on the East Coast and went to Vietnam as a boat commander for River Squadron 5 in My Tho, south of Saigon. He earned a Bronze Star in May 1966 for capturing enemy documents from a sampan his boat destroyed and just two weeks later earned a second Bronze Star for capturing another sampan with nine Viet Cong aboard. On 22 August of that year he was in charge of a two-boat patrol moving down the Mekong. Moving into what was an ambush, they encountered over one hundred enemy gun emplacements from both sides of the river. At the height of the battle, after knocking out several emplacements, he noticed a motorized sampan leaving the area. Suspecting that there might be high-ranking VC aboard, he ignored the enemy fire and pursued the fleeing vessel. Although wounded, he managed to kill the boat’s occupants and retrieved over one hundred important documents. He earned his first Purple Heart and the Silver Star.

“On 31 October Petty Officer Williams was again in charge of a two-boat patrol on the Mekong. Without warning enemy fire erupted from two sampans, and he instantly returned fire, killing the crew of one sampan and causing the other to flee. He gave chase and followed it into an inlet where the VC had laid a trap.

“Now he found his boats under fire from four enemy vessels. At this point he attempted to pull back and called in choppers to finish the enemy because he was overwhelmingly outnumbered. Along his route he stumbled onto an even larger concentration of vessels and plowed his way through the enemy boats, destroying seven junks and fifty sampans. Minutes later the choppers arrived and, not content to let the choppers finish the job, he turned on his searchlights and went back into the fray to completely rout the enemy. He received the Medal of Honor on 14 May 1968. Petty Officer Williams would go on to earn many more medals, including the Navy and Marine Corps Medal for rescue of civilians from a vessel destroyed by a mine. He left Vietnam in March 1967, having earned two dozen medals in an eight-month tour. Clearly he was a go-getter! He also had undoubtedly good aim and a warrior spirit that allowed him and his crew to take deadly aim against the enemy even in overwhelming circumstances.

“You and your shipmates have used the M16 before, but this time you are tasked to shoot forty rounds at the target, using proper safety precautions. Your team is operating in low light, and because a gas cloud has been detected, you must wear your gas mask. Any time a sailor has to use an M16 it will probably be in less than ideal conditions. How effectively can you concentrate? Are you as accurate as you were before, now that the rules of the game are changed? Will you become part of the Navy’s history or a statistic in the enemy’s body count? Now you must show commitment to your shipmates by giving your best effort in targeting your prey. Now you must display courage in giving your best concentration despite the distractions of battle. Now you must display honor in either striking a blow to the enemy with accuracy or laying down your life for your country!”

Petty Officer Bowser explained the rules to the recruits. They would use the same laser-light weapons they had used in training. Even though no live ammunition was used at the range, any unsafe act (pointing a weapon toward another, failure to cease fire on command, and so forth) was a strike. Failure to don and properly fit the gas mask within fifteen seconds was a strike. Failure to take a proper defensive posture or to score on target, or a slow reaction to other, non-safety-related commands, would result in the recruit being declared “dead.” Points would be deducted from the division score, depending on the number of deaths incurred during the exercise.

Petty Officer Kent spent three years at the Navy’s SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) School at Rangely, Maine. He has a unique perspective on firearms training at Great Lakes. “The recruits may think it’s rinky-dink, but the weapons range at RTC is designed only to give them a taste of what military firearms are like. In reality, except for the S guys [SEALs, Seabees, and Special Boats Divisions], most sailors never get near small arms. Those that do—gunner’s mates, masters-at-arms, and so forth—will get specialized training once they leave here.”

The recruits were issued gas masks, and the lights were lowered. On signal, each recruit began firing twenty rounds toward the targets fifty feet away. After the cease-fire command was issued, targets were scored, and additional groups moved to the firing line until all had had a chance to register with the M16-A1 laser-pointing simulator. At the command “Gas attack, gas attack,” the recruits sprinted to the opposite end of the firing line, found their gas mask, donned it, and returned to their firing positions. They then fired an additional twenty rounds, before securing their weapons and leaving the firing line. The scoring criteria for pass-fail might seem comically low to members of another service—one hit out of twenty was sufficient to avoid a strike—but the evolution was designed more to remind the recruits of gun safety and the proper use of the MCU2P gas mask than to teach marksmanship.

McClellan It was a cool event. I’m glad that we got to do that early, because if they tell you that you’re dead, you just lie down. And there’s a real danger of falling asleep. If you fall asleep, you’re done for the night. So nobody fell asleep, and that’s good. But if it was four o’clock in the morning, we’d have lost a lot of people.

Dizon Well, I died there. I didn’t get my mask on in time, so right off, I got one strike.

Bruce I died because I was slow getting back to my booth, and when I got back there, Zaragoza was in my booth, and she should have been in the one next to me, and by the time we got it all sorted out, we were out of time.

Alcazar I got a strike because I didn’t hit the bull’s-eye when we took off our face masks.

Hattrich I got one because I didn’t hear the “commence firing” command, when the lights went out, because I didn’t really understand the instructions. They said you could pick your position, and I like standing up, but then you couldn’t really hit the bottom target very well.

Johnson We got a lot of strikes about the gas mask. Our team had one guy, Kyaw, who took his off too early.

Adams I died too. I fired okay, but then they said the gas was cleared, so I took off my mask, and put it on the floor, and then they yelled “gas!” again, and I was fooling with the mask. But they didn’t give me a strike. I just had to lie there for a couple minutes, and that was okay with me.

Midnight: Investigate and Rescue

The teams gathered up their gear and mustered outside on Ohio St. Hopkins and Gildersleeve had nabbed those on the front row and issued death threats to anyone who tried to outpace the facilitators on the run back to Building 1312. “We meant it, too,” said the 6-foot, 5-inch tall master-at-arms afterward. “No way these long legs were going to make it through the night if we kept movin’ like we was.” The division got the hint.

The group double-timed its way down Ohio St. The pace had slowed somewhat, partly because Petty Officer Russell had taken the lead, and neither she nor Petty Officer Kent had any desire to burn out the division early in the evening. The group did experience its first strikeout of the evening, however. A helmet had fallen from one of the recruits running near the front of the line, and Airman Recruit Cumpson stopped to pick it up. This was a serious safety violation, as it endangered those running behind him. The division had been drilled, time and again, that any loose gear was to remain on the road, and the road guards, running in the last rank, were the only ones authorized to stop and pick up gear. Russell escorted the crestfallen recruit to the barracks shortly after midnight.

Sison It was too bad about Cumpson. I think he was trying to help out. But they had told us to call out “Gear on the deck!” if something fell during the run, and to let it lie there for the road guards on the last row to pick up.

Dispirited by the turn of events, the team reached the battle stations building behind schedule. They were met by PNl(SW) Robinson and AD1(AW) Velasco, who quickly ordered them to don oxygen breathing apparatus (OBAs) and divide into six-person stretcher teams for the investigate and rescue scenario—one of the most realistic and frightening exercises of the evening.

Petty Officer Robinson set the scene: “Your team has been assigned to investigate a smoke-filled compartment looking for, locating, and removing any victims to safety. You will have completed your mission when all of your team is accounted for, living or dead. Your assigned area is outside the primary fire boundaries, and because the ship’s fire party is committed to the main casualty, your team has only OBAs, two Stokes baskets, and two battle lanterns available to complete the mission.

“During a shipyard overhaul in 1992, USS Holland (AS-32) experienced a spill of hazardous material when a 5-gallon container of Xylene (a thinnerlike, toxic cleaning solution) was crushed in a cargo elevator, spilling contents from the main deck to the seventh deck and into a storeroom. Toxic fumes contaminated the entire forward third of the ship within minutes of the casualty. Most of the areas affected were berthing areas that berthed up to five hundred personnel. The primary concern for the fire party was to locate and remove any crew members who may have still been in the berthing area and possibly overcome by the fumes. Electrical power had been isolated in that part of the ship, making location of personnel difficult. Due to the methodical and effective and quick search of the areas, several of the crewmen were located and removed to the weather deck where the corpsmen could attend them.

“This particular fire party was quick on their feet and, even though fire fighting was not the mission of the party, they adapted their skills, teamwork, and can-do spirit to ensure the safety of their shipmates.

“The need for quick and effective action in this type of casualty can occur in port or at sea at any time of day or night. You must be able to adapt to the situation. Now you must show commitment to your team by staying together and saving your shipmates. Are you ready, recruits?”

The division was sequestered in a closed anteroom, lined with shelves of damage-control equipment. Robinson explained the dangers of the standard OBA. Once activated, the canister becomes very hot and must be handled with fire-retardant gloves. The facilitators had three criteria for their inspection—OBA not properly activated, timer not set, and poor seal on the face mask—any one of which could lead to fatality in a real fire. The recruits donned their gloves, breastplates, and face masks, and assembled by the door.

The first stretcher parties exited into an adjacent passageway. At the far end was a standard watertight door, tightly dogged. Inside that door was a compartment, identical to a typical berthing space at sea. Rows of bunks, tables, chairs, and personal effects filled the room.

Each six-person team removed a Stokes basket from the port bulkhead, and lined up fore and aft facing the watertight compartment. Robinson inspected them again, paying close attention to the operation of the OBA. Although the smoke in the room was not toxic, once the door was closed behind the fire parties, the recruits would be unable to breathe without support. Several recruits received their first strike of the evening for improper use of their life-saving equipment.

Johnson Well, I took one strike for not turning my timer back to 30. So that kind of disappointed me at that point.

Several recruits had been quietly removed from the anteroom and had been positioned—wearing functioning OBAs—as victims within the watertight compartment. Unlike in the mass casualty exercise, these recruits would be rescued only once, and would return later as stretcher-party members. Dan Kent, properly equipped, remained inside the smoke chamber as a casualty/observer, assisting MM1 Mike Bandlow, the safety manager for the exercise.

A smoke generator filled the room with thick, black, greasy smoke, and the lights were extinguished. The casualties were positioned as one would expect in a sleeping compartment, although safety rules prohibited placement in the upper racks. Two teams of six would enter together and search the area thoroughly. Teams were to stay linked at all times. Only the team leader’s hands were free to explore the deck, bulkheads, and equipment in the room. The others were required to keep one hand on the Stokes basket at all times, and the forward stretcher-bearer had the additional responsibility of holding the D-ring on the back of the leader’s OBA.

With a nod from Petty Officer Robinson, the teams entered the smoke-filled compartment.

David Mills, 18, South Daytona, Florida

We went inside, and they closed the door behind us. It was pitch dark. You’ve heard people say, “I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face”well, I couldn’t. The smoke was heavy, there were no windows, and no lights, and the mask of the OBA started to fog up. I had no idea where I was or what was around me.

McClellan Our team leader took my team right to the very back of the room, and then proceeded to lead us around in a circle for the whole time, like a two-foot circle for the whole time. Meanwhile, Petty Officer Kent is up in the front, dying from the smoke.

Alcazar I was the search leader for that stretcher party. I was nervous, because they had us line up, because he kept yelling, “Person Number Six, get the battle lantern!” and I didn’t realize right away that I was number six. You can’t see real well with those OBAs on. When we went in there, it was difficult, because our victim was in a really hard place to find. When we found Petty Officer Kent, he was hiding between the corner of the bunks and the place where you came in. He was real close to the door, but we went all the way to the back, before we realized that the victim could have been behind us. And he was.

Johnson Well, we passed right by a body, because it was in the bunk right near the front door.

Burger My group only got one victim. That was Petty Officer Kent, and that’s because he was big, and in blue. We never did find SR Burrellthey had her hidden under the bottom rack, right up against the wall. There was no way we could see her in the dark and smoke.

Melissa Stamp, 21, Englewood, Colorado

I was the dead person for the first team. I was the first one they used as a victim, and that team never did find me, and I was in there for awhile. So, when I was holding the stretcher later, I was trying to tell Freeman where to go and what to do, but she wouldn’t listen.

Freeman Man, I couldn’t hear anything, with the noise and the masks and all, and it’s a dark room and full of smoke, and I’m the search leader and I can’t see nothing! I got a strike there because I got away from my team, tying to find the body. I went left and they went right, and I wound up back by the door, and that’s where the body was, anyway. But I got a strike for getting away from my team.

Gildersleeve They had Atitsogbuie as our victim. That dude is heavy, and bighe’s like six-six. I thought there was a dummy, he was so heavy, till I felt, and he was flexible and soft, like, and it was, Oh man! It’s A.T.! We ain’t never gonna get this guy outta here. But we did.

Adams I was the team leader on my stretcher, and all I could see was bunks and bunks and bunks. And I was so afraid that Wirsch was gonna let go of my D-ring, and I’d get a strike, because if she let go, we’d never get back together. The only thing was, the team that was in front of us found their victim before we did, and laid the stretcher right between the bunks, and I tripped over Atitsogbuie and nearly killed him.

The teams cycled through the smoke-filled compartment. Some were successful in finding their casualties within the time permitted, others were not. The large number of strikes incurred by recruits who did not energize their OBAs properly concerned Petty Officer Russell. “That gets me right in the heart,” she said. “I’ve spent my entire career as a damage controlman. These kids think it’s a game. They get out into the fleet—somebody is gonna wind up dead from that kind of knuckleheaded mistake. They have got to learn that, and learn it now. We try to teach ’em but...,” she shook her head.

Still behind schedule, the team gathered outside Building 1312 for the transit to their next event.

Johnson Here’s the funny thing, see. I went back after we graduated, as part of field day, and man, that room is small! I thought it was, like, a gym or something, but it’s not much bigger than this office [about 12 x 20 feet]. It just seemed big, in the dark with all that smoke and the OBAs on and all.

*Petty Officer Bowser is a signalman, first class (E6), with surface warfare qualifications.

*Petty Officer Robinson is a personnelman, first class (E6), with surface warfare qualifications.

**Petty Officer Velasco is an aviation machinist’s mate, first class (E6), with air warfare qualifications.

*Petty Officer Rotello is an aviation electrician’s mate, first class (E6), with air warfare qualifications.