Expectations - Boot Style

My friends and I thought that Coast Guard boot camp would be like a militant version of Bay Watch. We would train on the beach, practice valiant ocean rescues, and learn advanced first aid. However, the only thing Baywatch-like would be our cheap and ultra thin bathing suits that showed every crevice and nipple detail. 

As three woman who signed up for this in Ventura, California, we received tons of athletic swag from the recruiter (who took us surfing on base like he had some kind of backstage pass, which he kind of did). It was a tough reality to find out that the Coast Guard was not sponsored by Billabong and pushups were not going to give us a Pam Anderson physique. We were about to have eight weeks of bootcamp nonsense led by three dudes of varying respectability.

Of the three company commanders (CC’s) in charge of leading our group, one was mostly respectable, another was half-way decent, and the third was a grown man taking out his Black Sabbath tee shirt and chain wearing raging teenage insecurities out on a group of 18 to 28 year olds. If it had been allowed, he would have left us for days in a room with heavy metal blasting like Guantanamo Bay detainees (gtmo)

It was easy to analyze the three of them as they took turns controlling a group of 150 young adults, like summer camp counselors rotating through their shifts. Similar to summer camp, some genuinely cared about you, others liked the attention, and still others overly enjoyed the control and structure they lacked in their regular life.  

The favorite CC of mine cared about your development, but he had to yell at you, even for doing the right thing. If he didn’t yell, the other CC’s would think he was soft, “WHAT DID YOU TWO FEMALES DO? THIS CLOTHING LAYOUT IS WRONG, BUT YOU DID IT WRONG TOGETHER. WHAT DID YOU COLLABORATE? DID YOU FIND AN ANSWER CLOSE ENOUGH TO THE CORRECT ONE WHEN THE CORRECT ONE WASN’T AVAILABLE AND CARRY IT OUT?!”  

He said this and then walked away, leaving us to acknowledge momentary success and be thankful he was in charge. The next day, a different CC was in charge and our folded clothing was thrown in various directions, scattered throughout the bunk room, “YOU HAVE 30 SECONDS TO CLEAN THIS UP AND GET INTO THE FORMATION OUTSIDE.”

I question a lot of the teaching philosophy of boot camp,  which makes me think that maybe I wasn’t the kind of person who should be in this business. Giving me 30 seconds to do something that everyone knew would take 5-10 minutes didn’t make me hurry, it made me confused about how much time I actually had to do this task. Should do it, or just throw the clothes in my bunk and head out to formation? Either way, I was going to be wrong, so I became apathetic, which made boot camp easier. So maybe I was right for this line of work.

“WALSH - WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING?!”

“The wrong way, Sir.”

It was summer 2009 and swine flu was raging, plus the economy had tanked six months earlier. It wasn’t a bad time to be in a place where the only news of the week was the schedule of who had the midnight watch. Plus, I was making a salary for the first time in my life, an achievement other millennials graduating college in this period didn’t experience until years later. So what if I had someone spit-yelling in my face?

Anyone who has seen any military movie knows that bootcamp starts with getting off a bus and large men screaming in your face as you scramble to find out where you are supposed to be standing. I had never watched military movies in my then 22 years on earth, so this was all new to me upon arrival. I had never even really been yelled at - which I’m not sure was a bad thing. I hadn’t had someone an inch away from my face talking in a high volume, yet alone screaming because my hair was in a ponytail and not a bun. I had a physical reaction to all of this and my body almost rid itself of everything in its digestive tract. I didn’t know before this first day that there was a literal reason for the phase, “to scare the shit out of you.”

Luckily it didn’t happen. The yelling and alarms at unknown hours continued, their impact on my bodily systems lessened. Mid-training I finally caught a real break - swine flu (flashback to coherency) At the height of the pandemic, the pathological CC took it upon himself to force 50 trainees into a steamy shower, fully clothed, and make us yell (something dumb I’m sure) with sweat spewing everywhere all while holding stupid fake rifles over our heads. I got the flu despite the stringent protective measures.

I spent 4-5 days in the sick ward where we were all untouchable to the CCs. They even had to lower their voices in this area. I felt weak and disillusioned because of a high fever and because I was fed packaged lunches of white bread and canned peaches. The only upper was when I was walking back to my bed and accidentally looked over to the front desk. A CC was standing there. I mistakenly made eye contact and he scream-whispered with gritted teeth, “What do you think you’re looking at blondie?” 

That was all that I needed to hear to be in a better mood. This guy - in his muscle milk mustache cockiness - thought that he was God’s greatest gift to earth and his physical presence and rude attention was why I smiled as I continued back to my bed, but his overly pumped physique and arrogance that stemmed from some sort of insecurity had nothing to do with my inner joy. I was truly just happy to know that after five weeks, my blond highlights were still in tact.

And so went bootcamp. I thrived at caring enough to get through it, was intrigued by its Stanford Prison experiment-like atmosphere, and enjoyed the physical exercise when nothing was right. I went eight weeks without a cell phone as smart phones were becoming a thing. I never could memorize the eight digit serial number of the stupid fake rifle I was provided. I am sad to say that despite the Coast Guard label, not only did we never swim in the ocean in bootcamp, but there were zero Ashton Kutchers hanging out in their own cheap and thin swim shorts. Was it all really worth it?

Bootcamp has its purpose though - which is in its essence is to get large numbers of people, from all types of backgrounds, through a program that takes away some of their individuality so they can go to field and focus on learning their job.

...if only that was what the field was like.

Every military or Coast Guard person has their own bootcamp stories and I recommend asking a veteran for theirs because there are far more outrageous antics to laugh and cry at in disbelief.