The year was 1996. I was 19 yearsold in Navy boot camp. One evening, after a long day of marching everywhere andbeing fussed at about everything, our Recruit Division Commander gathered us(me and the other recruits) together in our compartment for a talk.
We sat Indian-style awaiting hiswords of motivation as he stood in our midst, staring each one of us down as ifwe were being inspected. Finally, he spoke.
“Recruit,” he said, pointing to awhite guy from the country. “Why did you join my Navy?”
”To serve and protect my country, Senior Chief!” he respondedin a proud voice.
”A– kisser,” said Senior Chief. “That’s that bull—-theysay on the commercial. You’re just saying that ’cause you thought that’s what Iwanted to hear.”
The country white boy dropped hishead in shame.
Senior Chief chose anothervictim.
”You,” he said as he pointed to another guy. “Why did youjoin my Navy?”
”To earn money for cooking school, Senior Chief,” he replied.
”You could’ve robbed a bank and got that. Stupid!” saidSenior Chief in those exact words (I kid you not).
I was waiting for him to pick me. I had my answer. “I joinedbecause the ladies prefer a guy in a Navy uniform over a McDonalds uniform,” Iwould’ve said, making a reference to my previous place of employment.
He didn’t pick me though.
”Do you want to know why you joined the Navy?” he asked usall. We were all on edge because we all thought we knew why we signed up to bein the military. According to Senior Chief, however, there was a deeper reasonthat not even we knew about, and he was going to enlighten us.
”The reason you joined is because deep down, you want tokill,” he told us as we sat dazed. “That’s what we do in the Navy. That’s thejob of the military. We blow sh– up and kill motherf—–s!” The sadisticsimplicity of his answer was unbelievable. The room erupted in a loud,testosterone-filled “YEEEAH!”
Senior Chief continued hisspeech.
”We’re the biggest gang on the planet,” he said arrogantly ashe paced the floor. “We’re bigger than your little neighborhood street gangsback home. The Bloods, the Crips, they ain’t got sh– on us,” he said with acocky smirk as we all looked on with immature grins on our faces. “We got allthese little countries scared to f— wit’ us,” he went on. “Somebody does orsays something we don’t like, we bomb the sh– out of them. That’s what we do.When you graduate in nine weeks, Navy blue will be your gang color for life.”
That’s what they told us in Navy boot camp. Imagine what theytell the marines.
Right now, at this very moment,this message is being drilled into the head of a teenager.
Parents, is that how you wantyour kids to think?
