Ronald Reagan and I both started our respective federal government jobs on the same day.
Let me back up a bit.
I had enlisted with the US Navy to join the submarine service, but there was a minor issue that had to be resolved before I could be inducted into the military. You see, I had no high school diploma.
This is not as bad as it sounds - I had completed high school and passed all the required classes. Unfortunately, at some point in my senior year, I had checked out a library book and returned it seven days too late. The late fee for this returned book was $3.50.
As the end of senior year approached, the staff at Boise High School began announcing various misbehaviors that would result in their withholding the diploma come graduation day. Among the list of things that would cause the school to withhold your diploma was - you guessed it - late fees at the school library.
I have never responded very well to coercion and threats. I figured that if they were going to hold $3.50 over my head after owning 12 years of my life, they could keep their damn diploma. To be honest, I didn't care about it, nor the pageantry surrounding it. School had been a pretty unpleasant experience, and all I felt was relief that it was soon going to be over. I certainly needed no glad-handed recognition for enduring the process.
I was at work while the rest of my graduating high school class put on their caps and gowns, and got their handshake and diplomas. The real diplomas were still withheld from the other students, just in case they misbehaved during/after the graduation ceremony. The school couldn't relinquish control, even at that point.
More than a year passed, and I managed to get along quite well without a high school diploma - right up until I volunteered to join the Navy. The recruiter informed me that he needed a copy of my diploma, so it was up to me to locate it.
The records office for Boise Public Schools was at that time located in an unused civil defense bunker (AKA an underground Bomb Shelter). I entered the renovated bunker and told the receptionist that I needed my diploma. She located it, and told me that I needed to pay $3.50. She asked what the $3.50 was for, and I told her it was a late book fee. She was appalled. "You never got your diploma over a $3.50 fine????". "Yep. Thank you for your help". I left the building with the needed document, and the Boise Public Schools belatedly got their pound of flesh. I did not consider it a win.
With the diploma photocopied, the process could begin. I took a group physical along with 20 other guys who were bound for various branches of the military. There are few things more awkward than being asked to drop your drawers while being surrounded by strangers who are doing the same thing.
After completing all the required medical and legal steps, the recruiter asked when I'd like to begin active duty. I decided that sometime after Christmas would be OK, and by coincidence, I reported for duty on January 20, 1981. Thus, as Ronald Reagan was taking the oath of office for Commander in Chief, I was flying to basic training (boot camp) at Naval Training Center, San Diego, California.
Boot camp was eight weeks of marching, physical training, eating rapidly, folding clothes and making bunks meticulously. There was lots of shoe polishing, memorizing the chain of command, and classroom time on stuff the Navy deems important: First aid, fire fighting and flood control - among others. My boot camp group was "Company 022" - the 22nd group of 80 men inducted into Navy Basic Training in San Diego in the year of 1981.
One week of boot camp was dedicated to service in the mess hall. You had to work 16 hours a day prepping meals, washing dishes, cleaning pots and pans, washing tables and mopping the floors. This happened three times a day for seven straight days. The sleep deprivation was pretty brutal, even at that young age.
One day, several companies were marched on board small boats. The small boats made their way across the harbor to the 32nd street naval station "Home of the Pacific Fleet" to attend fire-fighting school.
The guys above are geared better than we were in the early 1980's. We fought the same fire in the same building, only we were wearing the clothing below. The instructors wore the good stuff, just in case any of us dropped.
Another time, groups of 10 of us were marched into a large gas chamber, which was filled with CS (tear gas). Before entering, we were told to don respirators, clear them and test them for leakage. We entered the chamber and before long you could faintly taste the gas inside the respirator. Then they made everyone remove the respirator and then things were quite a bit more unpleasant! In short order tears were streaming, snot was flowing, and there was a sensation of burning where you had shaved earlier in the day. Not fun. They made everyone recite the chain of command, or the 10 orders for watch-standing or something silly like that. Then they told us to get out so they could run the next group through.
Boot camp was not a pleasant experience - it was somewhat harsh both mentally and physically. But at least it was brief. I understood that this was the process the military used to shape a group of wildly disparate individuals into a uniform group of trainable sailors. I considered it a tough but necessary step to get to where I wanted to be, which was trained and skilled at something.
I have a picture somewhere that looks similar to this one:
Let's now discuss training, since that's what makes the US Navy the best in the world. It's also what makes their personnel so very employable in the civilian world.
The Navy has many, many options for "rate training". In the Navy, "Rate Training" has the same meaning as "Trade School" in the civilian world, but with a significant difference. Unlike the civilian world, the Navy doesn't typically allow you to leave your chosen field once you have been trained in a particular rate. Occasionally you can cross-rate, if there is a demand, and if you have the aptitude for a more technical rate. For example you might be able to cross-rate from Storekeeper to Gas Turbine Tech, but not the other way around.
One enlistment option is that you can join the Navy as a "nonrate". This means that you enlist without selecting a trade school, or "rate". After boot camp, a nonrate would go home on leave for a week, and then afterwards report to a ship. Once on board the ship, he could see first-hand what each rate (or trade) did, and then decide whether it was a job he might want to learn. At that point he could "strike" to begin shipboard training, with the goal of being sent to school after a period of on-the-job training.
Another option is that you can join the Navy, with a commitment from the Navy that they will train you in the field you pre-selected at the time you enlisted. Most of the people in Company 022 fell into this category. They had chosen a technical field, and following boot camp, they would attend training school prior to assignment to the fleet. This arrangement works out well both for the new recruits and for the Navy.
A third option is that you can enlist in the Navy for one of the advanced training programs - of which Nuclear Propulsion Training was one. The three rates that the nuclear program offered were Electronics Technician, Electrician's Mate, and Machinist's Mate. Electronics Technicians attended a 6 month long program. Electrician's Mate school is 7 weeks. Machinist's Mate school is a mere 4 weeks long.
The advanced training programs come with some perks and also with some disadvantages.
First, the perks of the advanced track: You start off at Enlisted pay grade 3, or E-3, instead of E-1. After completing your first trade school, you automatically get bumped to E-4. That progress to E-4 pay took me just 6 months. The same progression might take 2-3 years if starting from scratch.
The disadvantages of the advanced training track (specifically nuclear power): The Navy normally guarantees you a "rate" (trade school training), but it will not offer this guarantee under the nuclear program. So you sign up for nuclear training, and have no idea whether you will end up a machinist, electrician, or an electronics technician. It's understandable why the Navy does it this way, because most people would probably prefer the most training, and nobody would chose electrician or machinist. This way the Navy gets to make the training assignments they need to fill after they have you on the hook.
Another disadvantage: You sign up for 5 years of active duty instead of 4. And once you begin Nuclear Power classroom training, for each day of school, your enlistment extends 2 days, until you reach 6 full years of active duty.
The worst possible outcome of this last disadvantage is to get all the way through the 6 month Nuclear Power School classroom training, and then fail academically. You will have extended your enlistment out to 6 years, without getting the benefit of a passing grade or gotten any hands-on nuclear operating experience.
The rambling along above about how Navy training worked back in the 1980's is all just to get to this statement: About halfway through boot camp, I was informed I would be an Electrician's Mate. I had really been hoping for Electronics Technician, but it was not to be. In the end, it turned out well enough.
A week after completing boot camp, the professional training began that brought me where I am now.
Part 3 is here:
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