Coast Guard – Martin's Mercurial Musings

Aug 11th, 1974 – On Command, Spread Your Cheeks!

Everyone experienced various ‘moments’ during boot camp whether physically demanding, frustrating and maddening or others laugh-out-loud funny. We were a couple days into boot camp (Company Echo/98) when the company was taken to the medical building for additional medical exams. Everyone filled out the necessary medical forms. We were then lined up around the outer perimeter of a large room in just our skivvies. A doctor came by and looked into everyone’s eyes, ears and nose. He also flexed hand and arm joints and then listened to our heart and lungs. The usual drill for a medical exam.

The next command caught most everyone by surprise, “Company, drop your drawers!” I gathered that the Coast Guard wanted to ensure that no one had “back-door” fissures or hernias. The next order was, “Company, about face.” And this was followed by, “Company, bend over, now!” As the doctor moved down the line, each person was subsequently ordered to, “Spread your cheeks.” The guy next to me apparently didn’t realize that the doc was going to check the bung hole. When ordered to spread his cheeks, this recruit, who was undoubtably qualified for a leadership position in X-ray company, placed his index fingers into his mouth and pulled his lips apart. One of the doctor’s aides shouted out, “No, you f**king moron, spread your frigg’n butt cheeks!” I could hardly contain myself. I knew I’d get reprimanded for laughing. Nevertheless, many of us who were aware of what had just happened snickered just about uncontrollably for the next 20mins. After this part of the exam, we were ordered to dress and were moved on to the next phase of the medical exams.

Throughout the next nine weeks I tried to figure out just who this guy was. However, given that we were all stressed, sleep deprived, confused, and looking the same in our newly shaved heads and Coast Guard dungarees, I never found out who this comedic genius was. But (pun intended) this little moment has lasted a lifetime, and I still laugh about it to this day.

Semper Paratus

Aug 9th, 1974 – What the F**k Have I Gotten Myself Into?

I’d enlisted in the Coast Guard and was now deeply entrenched into this little excursion called boot camp. I was so lost and confused during those first days. And exhausted. How had I come to make the biggest mistake of my young life? I felt clueless and couldn’t comprehend what was going on. Always running from point-A to point-B. Countless pushups. Constantly getting yelled at. Experiencing the wrath of the BM1 Beecham, the Echo/98 Company Commander, whose face often seemed positioned just in front of me. I didn’t dare look the CC directly in the eyes as he loudly berated me, told what a maggot I was, how I was not worth the pay rate of a seaman recruit. I wondered whether I had potential to call myself a Coast Guardsman?

Shortly after being merged from forming company into the Echo/98 company, and just after lights-out following another long, overwhelming and stressful day, this beautiful sounding tenor voice started singing, “Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay, Oh I believe, in yesterday. Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be, there’s a shadow hanging over me. Oh, I believe in yesterday.” After finishing that Beatles tune, one could have heard a pin drop in the barracks. There was no rustling about, no tossing or turning. Everyone was perfectly still in their racks. I didn’t understand it, but for the first time in a week I sensed some semblance of normalcy. I had tears in my eyes as this acapella tenor voice filled the room. Each night thereafter there would be another song just after lights-out. I’m sure the CC knew what was going on. Yet he allowed each night’s singing for reasons I’ll never understand.

Nevertheless, I’ve sometimes heard people talk about the power of music. During those nine weeks, I certainly experienced it. And it was wonderful. Many thanks, Seaman Recruit Renny Dozier, for helping me get through a tough time.

Semper Paratus

Aug 7th, 1974 – Who Knew I Was Colorblind? Not me!

Growing up in Tucson, AZ, it only made sense that I would enlist in the Coast Guard as a naive 19 year old in 1974. I took a battery of tests and qualified for most of the MOS (main occupational specialist) jobs. A small detail, however, was learning through the medical exams that I have a significant color perception deficiency. I can see primary colors well enough. And I never realized this all through high school. As is, I struggle to differentiate similar colors next to each other or see colors at all in low light. As such, that color deficiency precluded me from being considered for fields such as electronics or navigation. So, for the most part, that left administration type jobs. And so I was offered a guaranteed Radioman School after completing basic training. In all, those 4yrs were spent in completing bootcamp and Radioman A-School before being stationed for varying lengths of time at a radio station on Guam, Cape Cod Air Station and the Coast Guard Cutters Basswood (Guam), Duane (Portland ME) and Sherman (Boston MA). I am proud of my service as a radioman – or more accurately, a “dit-jockey” (aka a Morse code operator). I eventually attained the rank of petty officer 2nd class (E5). This page is intended to detail some of those experiences which have been carried forth through all these years and have helped shape me into the man I am today. Semper Paratus!