Bootcamp.

“It kind of feels like we’re going to meet a set of Korean nuclear warheads,” said Nate, my bootcamp bus-mate and the brother of my friend Rachel from back home. 

“Yep, I agree,” I said.

A little nervous chatter followed after that, but not too much. You’re kind of in your own head when you’re mentally preparing to get your ass kicked for the next 8 weeks. We were en route to Cape May Training Center, where we would be indoctrinated, trained, and prepared for our entrance into the Coast Guard fleet. 

Boot camp is as tough as they say. No matter how many times you’re forewarned by military personnel that the intentions of boot camp are to “break you down then build you back up,” you’re still going to be broken down...then built back up. It’s just how it works. However, it’s training. As long as the end goal is kept in mind, it’s definitely doable. 

My longtime friend, Army 2LT Shane Greaves, sat with me a few days before my departure to ask me what my bootcamp plan was going to be. It was “to be relentlessly optimistic and tough.”  

No matter what happened, it was going to be one foot in front of the other until the bitter end. The advice and insight he gave me that day, including making sure I stuck with those intentions, was the best I’d received. So much of the advice I’d heard previously, which I never could take at face value, was all over the place and contradictory:

"Welcome"

“Hide in the background and slip under the radar.”

“Kerry, don’t worry. You’ll be totally fine.”

“It pays to be a winner.”

“Pray to not have a female company commander.”

“Be loud. Be proud.”

“Eat your protein.”
“Don’t trip!” (Thank you, Kristy Kelley).

Anyway... 

When that bus stopped, it became dead quiet. We were told not to look outside the windows by our bus driver. All we could see were shadowy forms in our periphery and flashing lights.

A man with a “smokey the bear” black hat, with a wide brim hat that covered his eyes, stormed onto the bus. No greeting. Simply, “FROM THIS POINT FORWARD, THE FIRST WORD OUT OF YOUR MOUTH WILL BE SIR OR MA’AM, AND THE LAST WORD OUT OF YOUR MOUTH WILL BE SIR OR MA’AM. YOU WILL RESPOND TO COMMANDS WITH AN AYE-AYE. UNDERSTAND?”

“SIR, YES, SIR!”

“LOUDER.”

“SIR, YES, SIR!!”

“NOW, GET UP. GET YOUR STUFF, AND FIND A YELLOW TRIANGLE TO STAND ON IN FRONT OF THE BUS. DO IT NOW!”  

I stood in front of the bus, clutching my bag, not sure if my arm was shaking from the freezing air or my nerves. Part of me was stifling a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all and as a natural stress reaction. The other part of me was thinking: “Holy smokes. What did I just get myself into now?”

Soon after: 

“Kelley! Wigton! Get back here. You signed below my line! I told you too keep your filthy names inside of the box. How difficult is that?!” 

Whoops. Fail #1 of a million.

 I also managed to “eyeball” (i.e. look at) a few Company Commanders and to even crash into one while we were issued our cold weather gear. One of the greatest takeaways from boot camp was to get comfortable with goofing up.

From there, I’d say boot camp took it’s predicted progression. My heart rate was through the roof for the next day or two. We were poked and prodded through medical, then handed to our company commanders (CCs) to be beaten. For those first weeks, we were the scum of the earth, sloppily marching around grounds in our sweaty sweats and ceaselessly being barked at by our company commanders. 

From there, we slowly learned what we had to do, and what we had to endure. I was constantly sore. I got sick. My voice was unrecognizable from all of the yelling. I was treated like a non-person. I fell asleep standing up. We were rather un-hygienic. We marched on edge, always wondering what our next “mistake” would be. 

It wasn’t fun, but it made us tough. We lost a few along the way, but they often were the ones who came in with doubts beforehand or the ones who were not quite made for the military. By the end, tight bonds were formed between shipmates, some that I believe will last through my career.

One memorable evening: 

A shipmate, while we were waiting for our CCs arrival, asked where my smile was that evening. I usually kept it tucked away until the few moments to ourselves before “racking out” after showers, but I threw caution to the wind and flashed one anyway. 

“Kelley-Kilo! Why is there a shit-eating grin on your face right now. Is something funny?” 

Damn.

“Petty Officer Matthews, Seaman Recruit Kelley-Kilo, nothing is funny.”

“Then why do you have a shit-eating grin on your face?”

I never did know how to lie. With my thoughts going at a rate of a million a minute under pressure, the only thing I could muster was the truth: 

“Petty Officer Matthews, Seaman Recruit Kelley-Kilo [gulp], just trying to stay optimistic.”

Out on the quarterdeck for push-ups I went, for a long time. I never did hear the end of that one. 

I made it through boot camp by looking for the bright spots everyday, and by holding close the knowledge that whatever was happening, it would end soon enough. My bright spots could be catching a peek of the beautiful Cape May sunrise, interacting with the ladies behind the food counter, or simply making it into bed for another night.  Letters and postcards from home and friends made a huge difference.

Eventually, it really did get better. We got better as a team, started respecting ourselves more, and the CCs started respecting us more too. The CCs started revealing their personalities as our training came to a close, and they were both hilarious and fantastic leaders. Slowly, we were melded into something worthwhile.

Someone told me beforehand that I was absolutely crazy for thinking that boot camp could be fun, in a way. I still stand by that. I loved the challenge of it, especially once we made it through the miserable part. I was a part of  wonderful group of driven, strong females (seriously, many times the ladies out-shined the dudes in our company!). We swam, we sang, we ran, and we learned cool things in seamanship and marksmanship. We “jousted” with giant, padded toothpicks. I wrote as a company historian and painted on the art crew.  The ice cream and hibachi dinner shared with a few friends on our single day of liberty, before graduation, was possibly the best I ever had...or at least, it felt like it.  I left boot camp with a few awards, two athletic regimental records, a re-inspired confidence, some of the craziest memories, and a few budding friendships. 

You don’t really talk about boot camp once you’ve made it out. It shows your newness. Yet, I still recommend it. It’s certainly one of the best experiences I’ve ever had, and it’s one I certainly hope to never repeat. 

Don't Think. Just Do

Juliet-189

Company Flag